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diff --git a/old/54502-0.txt b/old/54502-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 85bddbb..0000000 --- a/old/54502-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13598 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Vacation Rambles, by Thomas Hughes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Vacation Rambles - -Author: Thomas Hughes - -Release Date: April 7, 2017 [EBook #54502] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VACATION RAMBLES *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -VACATION RAMBLES - -By Thomas Hughes, Q.C. - -Author Of ‘Tom Brown’s Schooldays’ - -Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator.--Juvenal - -London: Macmillan And Co. - -1895 - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0009] - -PREFACE - -Dear C----- So you want me to hunt up and edit all the “Vacuus Viator” - letters which my good old friends the editors of _The Spectator_ have -been kind enough to print during their long and beneficent ownership of -that famous journal! But one who has passed the Psalmist’s “Age of Man,” - and is by no means enamoured of his own early lucubrations (so far as -he recollects them), must have more diligence and assurance than your -father to undertake such a task. But this I can do with pleasure-give -them to you to do whatever you like with them, so far as I have any -property in, or control over them. - -How did they come to be written? Well, in those days we were young -married folk with a growing family, and income enough to keep a modest -house and pay our way, but none to spare for _menus plaisirs_, of -which “globe trotting” (as it is now called) in our holidays was our -favourite. So, casting about for the wherewithal to indulge our taste, -the “happy thought” came to send letters by the way to my friends at 1 -Wellington Street, if they could see their way to take them at the usual -tariff for articles. They agreed, and so helped us to indulge in our -favourite pastime, and the habit once contracted has lasted all these -years. - -How about the name? Well, I took it from the well-known line of Juvenal, -“Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator,” which may be freely rendered, -“The hard-up globe trotter will whistle at the highwayman”; and, I -fancy, selected it to remind ourselves cheerfully upon what slender help -from the Banking world we managed to trot cheerfully all across Europe. - -I will add a family story connected with the name which greatly -delighted us at the time. One of the letters reached your grandmother -when a small boy-cousin of yours (since developed into a distinguished -“dark blue” athlete and M.A. Oxon.) was staying with her for his -holidays. He had just begun Latin, and was rather proud of his new lore, -so your grandmother asked him how he should construe “Vacuus Viator.” - After serious thought for a minute, and not without a modest blush, he -replied, “I think, granny, it means a wandering cow”! You must make -my peace with the “M.A. Oxon.” if he should ever discover that I have -betrayed this early essay of his in classical translation. - -Your loving Father, - -THOS. HUGHES. - -October 1895. - - - - -VACATION RAMBLES - - - - -EUROPE--1862 to 1866 - - - - -Foreign parts, 14th August 1862. - -Dear Mr. Editor-There are few sweeter moments in the year than those -in which one is engaged in choosing the vacation hat. No other garment -implies so much. A vista of coming idleness floats through the brain as -you stop before the hatter’s at different points in your daily walk, and -consider the last new thing in wideawakes. Then there rises before -the mind’s eye the imminent bliss of emancipation from the regulation -chimney-pot of Cockney England. Two-thirds of all pleasure reside in -anticipation and retrospect; and the anticipation of the yearly exodus -in a soft felt is amongst the least alloyed of all lookings forward to -the jaded man of business. By the way, did it ever occur to you, sir, -that herein lies the true answer to that Sphinx riddle so often asked in -vain, even of _Notes and Queries_: What is the origin of the proverb “As -mad as a hatter”? The inventor of the present hat of civilisation -was the typical hatter. There, I will not charge you anything for the -solution; but we are not to be for ever oppressed by the results of this -great insanity. Better times are in store for us, or I mistake the signs -of the times in the streets and shop windows. Beards and chimney-pots -cannot long co-exist. - -I was very nearly beguiled this year by a fancy article which I saw -in several windows. The purchase would have been contrary to all my -principles, for the hat in question is a stiff one, with a low, round -crown. But its fascination consists in the system of ventilation--all -round the inside runs a row of open cells, which, in fact, keep the hat -away from the head, and let in so many currents of fresh air. You might -fill half the cells with cigars, and so save carrying a case and add -to the tastefulness of your hat at the same time, while you would get -plenty of air to keep your head cool through the remaining cells. - -My principles, however, rallied in time, and I came away with a genuine -soft felt after all, with nothing but a small hole on each side for -ventilation. The soft felt is the only really catholic cover, equal to -all occasions, in which you can do anything; for instance, lie flat on -your back on sand or turf, and look straight up into the heavens--the -first thing the released Cockney rushes to do. Only once a year may it -be always all our lots to get a real taste of the true holiday feeling; -to drop down into some handy place, where no letter can find us; to -look up into the great sky, and over the laughing sea, and think about -nothing; to unstring the bow, and fairly say: “There shall no fight be -got out of us just now; so, old world, if you mean to go wrong, you may -go and be hanged!” To feel all the time that blessed assurance which -does come home to one at such times, and scarcely ever at any other, -that our falling out of the fight is not of the least consequence; that, -whatever we may do, the old world will not go wrong but right, and ever -righter--not our way, nor any other man’s way, but God’s way. A good -deal of sneering and snubbing has been wasted of late, sir (as you have -had more occasion than one to remark), on us poor folks, who will insist -on holding what we find in our Bibles; what has been so gloriously put -in other language by the great poet of our time:-- - - That nothing walks with aimless feet; - - That not one life shall be destroy’d, - - Or cast as rubbish to the void, - - When God hath made the pile complete. - -I suppose people who feel put out because we won’t believe that the -greatest part of creation is going to the bad can never in the nature of -things get hold of the true holiday feeling, so one is wasting time in -wishing it for them. However, I am getting into quite another line from -the one I meant to travel in; so shall leave speculating and push across -the Channel. There are several questions which might be suggested with -advantage to the Civil Service Examiner, to be put to the next Belgium -attachés who come before them. Why are Belgian hop-poles, on an average, -five or six feet longer than English? How does this extra length affect -the crops? The Belgians plant cabbages too, and other vegetables (even -potatoes I saw) between the rows of hops. Does it answer? All the -English hop-growers, I believe, scout the idea. I failed to discover -what wood their hop-poles are? One of my fellow-travellers, by way of -being up to everything, Informed me that they were grown in Belgium on -purpose; a fact which did not help me much. He couldn’t say exactly what -wood it was. Then a very large proportion of the female population of -Belgium spends many hours of the day, at this time of year, on its knees -in the fields; and this not only for weeding purposes, for I saw women -and girls cutting the aftermath and other light crops in this position. -Certainly, they are thus nearer their work, and save themselves -stooping; but one has a sort of prejudice against women going about -the country on all fours, like Nebuchadnezzar. Is it better for their -health? Don’t they get housemaid’s knees? But, above all, is it we or -the Belgians who don’t, know in this nineteenth century, how to make -corn shocks? In every part of England I have ever been in in harvest -time, we just make up the sheaves and then simply stand six or eight of -them together, the ears upwards, and so make our shock. But the Belgian -makes his shock of four sheaves, ears upwards, and then on the top of -these places another sheaf upside down. This crowning sheaf, which is -tied near the bottom, is spread out over the shock, to which it thus -forms a sort of makeshift thatch. One of the two methods must be -radically wrong. Does this really keep the rain out, and so prevent the -ears from growing in damp weather? I should have thought it would only -have helped to hold the wet and increase the heat. If so, don’t you -think it is really almost a _casus belli?_ Quin said to the elderly -gentleman in the coffee-house (after he had handed him the mustard for -the third time in vain), dashing his hand down on the table, “D------ -you, sir, you shall eat mustard with your ham!” and so we might say to -the Belgians if they are wrong, “You shall make your shocks properly.” - Fancy two highly civilised nations having gone on these thousand years -side by side, growing corn and eating bread without finding out which is -the right way to make corn shocks. - - - - -Bonn, 22nd August 1862. - -I am sitting at a table some forty feet long, from which most of -the guests have retired. The few left are smoking and talking -gesticulatingly. I am drinking during the intervals of writing to you, -sir, a beverage composed of a half flask of white wine, a bottle of -seltzer water, and a lump of sugar (if you can get one of ice to add it -will improve the mixture). I take it for granted that you despise the -Rhine, like most Englishmen, but, sir, I submit that a land where one -can get the above potation for a fraction over what one would pay for a -pot of beer in England, and can, moreover, get the weather which makes -such a drink deliciously refreshing, is not to be lightly thought of. -But I am not going into a rhapsody on the Rhine, though I can strongly -recommend my drink to all economically disposed travellers. - -All I hope to do, is, to gossip with you, as I move along; and as my -road lay up the Rhine, you must take that with the rest. - -Our first halt on the river was at Bonn. A university town is always -interesting, and this one more than most other foreign ones, as the -place where Prince Albert’s education was begun, and where Bunsen ended -his life. I made an effort to get to his grave, which I was told was -in a cemetery near the town, but could not find it. I hope it will long -remain an object of interest to Englishmen after the generation who knew -him has passed away. There is no one to whom we have done more scanty -justice, and that unlucky and most unfair essay of W------‘s is -the crowning injustice of all. I am not going into his merits as -a statesman, theologian, or antiquary, which, indeed, I am wholly -incompetent to criticise. The only book of his I ever seriously tried -to master, his _Church of the Future_, entirely floored me. But the -wonderful depth of his sympathy and insight!--how he would listen to and -counsel any man, whether he were bent on discovering the exact shape of -the buckle worn by some tribe which disappeared before the Deluge, or -upon regenerating the world after the newest nineteenth century pattern, -or anything between the two--we may wait a long time before we see -anything like it again in a man of his position and learning. And what a -place he filled in English society! I believe fine ladies grumbled -about “the sort of people” they met at those great gatherings at Carlton -Terrace, but they all went, and, what was more to the purpose, all -the foremost men and women of the day went, and were seen and heard of -hundreds of young men of all nations and callings; and their wives, -if they had any, were asked by Bunsen on the most thoroughly catholic -principles. And if any man or woman seemed ill at ease, they would find -him by their side in a minute, leading them into the balcony, if the -night were fine, and pointing out, as he specially loved to do, the -contrast of the views up Waterloo Place on the one hand, and across the -Green Park to the Abbey and the Houses, on the other, or in some other -way setting them at their ease again with a tact as wise and subtle -as his learning. But I am getting far from the Rhine, I see, and the -University of Bonn. Of course I studied the titles of the books exposed -for sale in the windows of the booksellers, and the result, as regards -English literature, was far from satisfactory. We were represented in -the shop of the Parker and Son of Bonn, by one vol. of Scott’s _Poems_; -the puff card of the London Society, with a Millais drawing of a young -man and woman thereupon, and nothing more; but, by way of compensation -I suppose, a book with a gaudy cover was put in a prominent place, -and titled _Tag und Nacht in London_, by Julius Rodenburg. There was -a double picture on the cover: above, a street scene, comprising an -elaborate equipage with two flunkeys behind, a hansom, figures of -Highlanders, girls, blind beggars, etc., and men carrying advertisements -of “Samuel Brothers,” and “Cremorne Gardens”; while in the lower -compartment was an underground scene of a policeman flashing his bull’s -eye on groups of crouching folks; altogether a loathsome kind of book -for one to find doing duty as the representative book of one’s country -with young Germany. I was a little consoled by seeing a randan named -_The Lorelei_ lying by the bank, which, though not an outrigger, would -not have disgraced any building yard at Lambeth or at Oxford. Very -likely it came out of one of them, by the way. But let us hope it is the -first step towards the introduction of rowing at Bonn, and that in a few -years Oxford and Cambridge may make up crews to go and beat Bonn, -and all the other German Universities, and a New England crew from -Cambridge, Massachusetts. What a course that reach of the Rhine at Bonn -would make! No boat’s length to be gained by the toss for choice of -sides, as at Henley or Putney; no Berkshire or Middlesex shore to be -paid for. A good eight-oar race would teach young Germany more of young -England than any amount of perusal of _Tag und Nacht_, I take it. I -confess myself to a strong sentimental feeling about Rolandseck. The -story of Roland the Brave is, after all, one of the most touching of all -human stories, though tourists who drop their H’s may be hurrying under -his tower every day in cheap steamers; and it is one of a group of -the most characteristic stories of the age of chivalry, all having a -connecting link at Roncesvalles. What other battle carries one into -three such groups of romance as this of Roland, the grim tragedy -of Bernard del Carpio and his dear father, and that of the peerless -Durandarté? When I was a boy there were ballads on all these subjects -which were very popular, but are nearly forgotten by this time. I used -to have great trouble to preserve a serene front, I know, whenever I -heard one of them well sung, especially that of “Durandarté” (by Monk -Lewis), I believe. Ay, and after the lapse of many years I scarcely know -where to go for the beau ideal of knighthood summed up in a few words -better than to that same ballad: - - Kind in manners, fair in favour, - - Mild in temper, fierce in fight,-- - - Warrior purer, gentler, braver, - - Never shall behold the light. - -But much as I prize Rolandseck for its memories of chivalric constancy -and tenderness, Mayence is my favourite place on the Rhine, as the -birthplace of Gutenburg, the adopted home, and centre of the work of our -great countryman, St. Boniface, and the most fully peopled and stirring -town of modern Rhineland. We had only an hour to spend there, so I -sallied at once into the town to search for Gutenburg’s house--the third -time I have started on the same errand, and with the same result. I -didn’t find it. But there it is; at least the guide-books say so. In -vain did I beseechingly appeal to German after German, man, woman, and -maid, “Wo ist das Haus von Gutenburg--das Haus wo Gutenburg wohnte?” I -got either a blank stare, convincing me of the annoying fact that not a -word I said was understood, or directions to the statue, which I knew as -well as any of them. At last I fell upon a young priest, and, accosting -him in French, got some light out of him. He offered to take me part of -the way, and as we walked side by side, suddenly turned to me with an -air of pleased astonishment, and said, “You admire Gutenburg, then?” To -which I replied, “Father!” Why, sir, how in the world should you and I, -and thousands more indifferent modern Englishmen, not to mention those -of all other nations, get our bread but for him and his pupil Caxton? -However, the young priest could only take me to within two streets, and -then went on his way, leaving me with express directions, in trying to -follow which I fell speedily upon a German fair. I am inclined to think -that there are no boys in Germany, and that, if there were, there would -be nothing for them to do; but for children there is no such place. This -fair at Mayence was a perfect little paradise for children. Think of our -wretched merry-go-rounds, sir, with nothing but some six or eight -stupid hobby-horses revolving on bare poles, and then imagine such -merry-go-rounds as those of Mayence fair. They look like large umbrella -tents ornamented with gay flags and facetious paintings outside, and -hung within, round the central post which supports the whole, with -mirrors, flags, bells, pictures, and bright coloured drapery. Half -concealed by the red or blue drapery, is the proprietor of the -establishment, who grinds famous tunes on a first-rate barrel organ when -the merry-go-round is set going, and keeps an eye on his juvenile fares. -The whole is turned by a pony or by machinery. Then, for mounts, the -children have choice of some thirty hobby-horses, or can ride on swans -or dragons, richly caparisoned, or in easy _vis-à-vis_ seats. When the -complement of youthful riders is obtained, on a signal off goes -the barrel organ and the pony and the whole concern--pictures, -looking-glasses, bells, drapery, and all begin to revolve, with a -fascinating jingling and emphasis! and at twice the pace of any British -merry--go-round I ever saw. It is very comical to watch the gravity of -the little _Deutsch_ riders. They are of all classes, from the highly -dressed little _madchen_, down to the ragged carter-boy, with a coil -of rope over his shoulder, and no shoes, riding a gilded swan, but all -impressed with the solemnity of the occasion. But here I am running -on about fun of the fair, and missing Gutenburg’s house, as I did in -reality, finding in the midst of my staring and grinning that I had only -time to get to the boat; so with one look at Gutenburg’s statue I went -off. - -The crops through all these glorious Rhine valleys right away up to -Heidelberg look splendid, particularly the herb pantagruelion, which is -more largely grown than when I was last here. Rope enough will be made -this year from hemp grown between Darmstadt and Heidelberg to hang all -the scoundrels in the world, and the honest men to boot; and the tobacco -looks magnificent. They were gathering the leaves as we passed. A -half-picked tobacco field, with the bare stumps at one end, and the -rich-leaved plants at the other, has a comically forlorn look. - -Heidelberg I thought more beautiful than ever; and since I had been -there a very fine hotel, one of the best I have ever been in, has been -built close to the station, with a glass gallery 100 feet long, and -more, adjoining the “Speisesaal,” in which you may gastronomise to your -heart’s content, at the most moderate figure. Here we bid adieu to the -Rhineland. - - - - -Munich, 29th August 1862. - -A bird’s-eye view of any country must always be unsatisfactory. Still -it is better than nothing, and in the absence of a human view, one may -be thankful for it. My view of Wurtemberg was of the most bird’s-eye -kind. The first thing that strikes one is the absence of all fences -except in the immediate neighbourhood of towns. Even the railway has no -fence, except for a few yards where a road crosses the line, and here -and there a hedge of acacia, or barberry bushes (the berries were -hanging red ripe on the latter), which are very pretty, but would not in -any place keep out a seriously-minded cow or pig. - -Wurtemberg is addicted to the cultivation of crops which minister to -man’s luxuries rather than to his necessities. The proportion of land -under fruit, poppies, tobacco, and hops, to that under corn, was very -striking. There was a splendid hemp crop here also. They were gathering -the poppy-heads, as we passed, into sacks. The women and girls both here -and in Bavaria seem to do three-fourths of the agricultural work; the -harder, such as reaping and mowing, as well as the lighter. The beds of -peat are magnificent, and very neatly managed. At first I thought we -had entered enormous black brick-fields, for the peat is cut into small -brick-shaped pieces, and stacked in rows, just as one sees in the best -managed of our brick-fields. As one nears Stuttgart the village churches -begin to show signs of the difference in longitude. Gothic spires and -arches give place to Eastern clock-towers, with tops like the cupolas of -mosques, tinned over, and glittering in the hot sun. I hear that it -was a fancy of the late Emperor Joseph to copy the old enemies of his -country in architecture; but that would not account for the prevalence -of the habit in his neighbour’s territory. I fancy one begins to feel -the old neighbourhood of the Turks in these parts. The houses are all -roomy, and there is no sign of poverty amongst the people. They have a -fancy for wearing no shoes and scant petticoats in many districts; but -it is evidently a matter of choice. Altogether, the whole fine, open, -well-wooded country, from Bruchsal to Munich, gives one the feeling that -an easy-going, well-to-do people inhabit and enjoy it. - -As for Munich itself, it is a city which surprised me more pleasantly -than almost any one I ever remember to have entered. One had a sort of -vague notion that the late king had a taste for the fine arts, and spent -a good deal of his own and his subjects’ money in indulging the taste -aforesaid in his capital. But one also knew that he had been tyrannised -over by Lola Montes, and had made a countess of her--and had not -succeeded in weathering 1848; so that, on the whole, one had no great -belief in any good work from such a ruler. - -Munich gives one a higher notion of the ex-king; as long as the city -stands, he will have left his mark on it. On every side there are -magnificent new streets, and public buildings and statues; the railway -terminus is the finest I have ever seen; every church, from the -Cathedral downwards, is in beautiful order, and highly decorated; and it -is not only in the public buildings that one meets with the evidences of -care and taste. The hotel in which we stayed, for instance, is built of -brick, covered with some sort of cement, which gives it the appearance -of terra-cotta, and is for colour the most fascinating building -material. The ceilings and cornices of the rooms are all carefully -and tastefully painted, and all about the town one sees frescoes and -ornamentation of all kinds, which show that the people delight in seeing -their city look bright and gay; and every one admits that all this is -due to the ex-king Lewis. But he has another claim on the gratitude -of the good folk of Munich. The Bavarians were given to beer above all -other people, and the people of Munich above all other Bavarians, long -before he came to the throne; and former kings, availing themselves of -the national taste, had established a “Hof-Breihaus,” where the monarch -sold the national beverage to his people. King Lewis found the -character of the royal beer not what it should be, and the rest of -the metropolitan brewers were also falling away into evil ways of -adulterating and drugging. He reformed the “Hof-Breihaus,” so that for -many years nothing but the soundest possible beer was brewed there, -which is sold to the buyers and yet cheaper than in any other house in -Munich. The public taste has been thus so highly educated that there -is no selling unwholesome beer now. A young artist took me to this -celebrated tap. Unluckily it was a wet evening, so we had to sit at one -of the tables, under a long line of sheds, instead of in an adjacent -garden. There was a great crowd, some 300 or 400 imbibers jammed -together, of all ranks. At our table the company were the artist and -myself, a Middlesex magistrate, two privates, and a non-commissioned -officer, and a man whom I set down as a small farmer. My back rubbed -against a vociferous student, who was hobnobbing with all comers. There -were Tyrolese and other costumes about, one or two officers, and a -motley crowd of work people and other folk. The royal brew-house is in -such good repute that no trouble whatever is taken about anything but -having enough beer and a store of stone drinking-mugs, with tops to them -forthcoming. Cask after cask is brought out and tapped in the vaulted -entrance to the cellars, and a queue of expectant thirsty souls wait for -their turn. I only know as I drank it how heartily I wished that my poor -overworked brethren at home could see and taste the like. But it would -not pay any of our great brewers to devote themselves to the task of -selling really wholesome drink to the poor; and I fear the Prince of -Wales is not likely to come to the rescue. He might find easier jobs no -doubt, but none that would benefit the bodily health of his people more. -The beer is so light that it is scarcely possible to get drunk on it. -Many of the frequenters of the place sit there boosing for four or five -hours daily, and the chance visitors certainly do not spare the liquor; -but I saw no approach to drunkenness, except a good deal of loud talk. - -The picture collections, which form, I believe, the great attraction -of Munich, disappointed me, especially the modern ones in the new -Pinacothek, collected by the ex-king, and to which he is constantly -adding now that he is living at his ease as a private gentleman. I -daresay that they may be very fine, but scarcely any of them bite; I -like a picture with a tooth in it--something which goes into you, and -which you can never forget, like the great picture of Nero walking -over the burning ruins of Rome, or the execution picture in the Spanish -department, or the Christian slave sleeping before the opening of -the amphitheatre, or Judas coming on the men making the cross, in the -International Exhibition. I have read no art criticism for years, so -that I do not know whether I am not talking great heresy. But, heresy -or not, I am for the right of every man to his own opinion in matters -of art, and if an inferior painting gives me real pleasure on account of -its subject, I mean to enjoy it and praise it, all the fine art critics -in Christendom notwithstanding. The pictures of the most famous places -in Greece, made since the election of the Bavarian Prince Otho to the -throne of Greece, have a special interest of their own; but apart from -these and some half dozen others, I would far sooner spend a day in our -yearly exhibition than in the new Pinacothek. The colossal bronze statue -of Bavaria is the finest thing of the kind I have ever seen; but the -most interesting sight in Munich to an Englishman must be the Church -of St. Boniface, not the exquisite colouring proportions, or the -magnificent monolithic columns of gray marble, but the frescoes, which -tell the story of the saint from the time when he knelt and prayed -by his sick father’s bed to the bringing back of his martyred body to -Mayence Cathedral. The departure of St. Boniface from Netley Abbey for -Rome, to be consecrated Apostle to the Germans, struck me as the best of -them; but, altogether, they tell very vividly the whole history of the -Englishman who has trodden most nearly in St. Paul’s footsteps. We have -reared plenty of great statesmen, poets, philosophers, soldiers, but -only this one great missionary. Yet no nation in the world has more need -of St. Bonifaces than we just now. The field is ever widening, in India, -China, Africa. We can conquer and rule, and teach the heathen to make -railways and trade, nut don’t seem to be able to get at their hearts -and consciences. One fears almost that were a St. Boniface to come, we -should only measure him by our common tests, and probably pronounce him -worthless, or a dangerous enthusiast. But one day, when men’s work shall -be tested by altogether different tests from ours of the enlightened -nineteenth century kind, it will considerably surprise some of us to see -how the order of merit will come out. We shall be likely to have to ask -concerning St. Boniface--whose name is scarcely known to one Englishman -in a hundred--and of others like him in spirit, of whom none of us have -ever heard, Who are these countrymen of ours, and whence come they? And -we shall hear the answer which St. John heard: “Isti sunt qui venerunt -ex magna tribulatione et laverunt stolas suas in sanguine Agni.” I felt -very grateful to Munich for having appreciated the great Apostle to the -Germans. - -The one building in Munich which is quite unworthy of the use to which -it is put, is the English Church. The service is performed in a sort of -dry cellar, under the Odeon. We had a very small congregation, but it -was very pleasant to hear how they all joined in the responses. What a -pity it is that we are always ready to do it abroad, and shut up again -as soon as we get home. Even the singing prospered greatly, though we -had no organ. But, alas! sir, the Colonial Church Society have done -their best to spoil this part of our service abroad. They seem to -have accepted from the editor as a gift, the stereotyped plates of a -hymn-book, copies of which were placed about in the Munich church, and, -I daresay, may be found all over the Continent. The editor has thought -it desirable to improve our classical hymns. Conceive the following -substitution for Bishop Ken’s “Let all thy converse be sincere”-- - - In conversation be sincere; - - Make conscience as the noon-day clear: - - Think how th’ all-seeing God thy ways - - And all thy secret thoughts surveys. - -This is only a fair specimen of the book. Surely the Colonial Church -Society had better hastily return the stereotype plates with thanks. - - - - -The Tyrol, 2nd September 1862. - -Next to meeting an old friend by accident, there is nothing more -pleasant than coming in long vacation on some flower or shrub which -reminds one of former holiday ramblings. In the Tyrol the other day we -came suddenly on a bank in the mountains gemmed over with the creamy -white star of the daisy of Parnassus, and it accompanied us, to our -great delight, for 200 miles or more, till we got fairly down into the -plains again. The last time I had seen it was on Snowdon years ago. When -we got a little higher I pounced on a beautiful little gentian, which I -had never seen before except on the Alps above Lenk, in Switzerland (the -Hauen Moos the pass was called, or some such name--how spelt, goodness -knows), which I once crossed with two dear friends on the most beautiful -day I ever remember. - -The flora of the Tyrol, at least that part of it which lies by the -roadside, seems to be much the same as ours. With the above exceptions, -I scarcely saw a flower which does not grow on half the hills in -England; but their size and colouring was often curiously different. The -Michaelmas daisy and ladies’ fingers, for instance, were much brighter -and more beautiful; on the other hand, there was the most tender tiny -heartsease in the world, and forget-me-nots, which were very plentiful -here and there, were quite unlike ours--delicate little creatures, of -the palest blue in the world, all the fleshiness and comfortable look, -reminding one of marriage settlements and suitable establishments, gone -clean out of them. In moving eastward with the happy earth you may -easily get from Munich to Strasburg in one day; but, if you do, you will -miss one of the greatest treats in the world, and that is a run through -the Tyrol, which you may do from Munich with comfort in a week. There is -a little rail which runs you down south or so to Homburg, on the edge of -the mountain country, from whence you may choose your conveyance, from -post carriage down to Shanks’ nag. If you follow my advice, whatever -else you do you will take care to see the Finstermunz Pass, than which -nothing in the whole world can be more beautiful. I rather wonder myself -that the Tyrol has not drawn more of our holiday folk, Alpine Club and -all, from Switzerland. The Orteler Spitz and the glaciers of his range -are as fine, and I should think as dangerous, as anything in the Swiss -Alps--the lower Alps in the Tyrol are quite equal to their western -sisters; and there is a soft Italian charm and richness about the look -and climate of the southern valleys, that about Botzen especially, which -Switzerland has nothing to match. The luxuriance of the maize crops (the -common corn of the country) and of the vines trained over trellis work -in the Italian fashion, and of the great gourds and vegetable marrows -which roll their glorious leaves and flowers and heavy fruit over -the spare corners and slips of the platforms on which the vineyards -rest--the innumerable fruit-trees, pears, apples, plums, peaches, and -pomegranates all set in a framework of beautiful wooded mountains, -from which the course of the streams may be traced down through all the -richness of the valley by their torrent beds of tumbled rock--. -remind us vividly of the descriptions of the Promised Land in the Old -Testament. Then the contrast of the people to the Bavarians is as great -as that of the countries. The latter seem to live the easiest, laziest -life of all nations, in their rich low flats, which the women are -quite aide to cultivate, while the men drink beer and otherwise disport -themselves. But in the part of the Tyrol next Bavaria it is all grim -earnest: “Ernst is das Leben” must be their motto if they are to get in -their crops at all, and keep their little patches of valley and hanging -fields cultivated--and it does seem to be their motto. After passing -through the country one can quite understand how the peasantry came to -beat the regular troops of France and Bavaria time after time half a -century ago, and the memoirs of that holy war hang almost about every -rock. There is no mistake here about battle-fields, and no difficulty in -realising the scene: the march of columns along the gorges, the piles of -rock and tree above, with Tyrolean marksmen behind, the voices calling -across over the heads of the invaders “Shall we begin?” - -“In the name of the Holy Trinity, cut all loose”; and then the crash -and confusion, the panic and despair, and the swoop of the mountaineers -on the remnant of their foes. A great part of the country must be -exceedingly poor, and yet only in the neighbourhood of two or three -villages were we asked for alms, and then only by small children, who -had apparently been demoralised by the passage of carriages. Except from -one of these children, a small boy who flirted his cap in my face, and -made a villainous grimace, when he got tired of running, and from -the dogs, we had no uncourteous look or word. The dogs, however, are -abominable mongrels, and there was scarcely one in the country which did -not run barking and snapping after us. The people seem to me very much -pleasanter to travel amongst than the Swiss. - -I had expected to find them a people much given to the outward forms -and ceremonies of religion at any rate--every guide-book tells one thus -much; but I was not at all prepared for the extraordinary hold which -their Christianity had laid upon the whole external life of the country. -You can’t travel a mile in the Tyrol along any road without coming upon -a shrine--in general by the wayside, often in the middle of the -fields. I examined several hundreds of these; many of them little rough -penthouses of plank, some well-built tiny chapels. I wish I had kept an -exact account of the contents, but I am quite sure I am within the mark -in saying that nine out of ten contain simply a crucifix; of the rest, -the great majority contain figures or paintings of the Virgin or Child, -and a few those of some patron saint. All bore marks of watchful care; -in many, garlands of flowers or berries, or an ear or two of ripe maize, -were hung round the Figure on the cross. Then in every village in which -we slept, bells began ringing for matins at five or six, and in every -ease the congregation seemed to be very large in proportion to the -population. I was told, and believe, that in all the houses, even in the -inns of most of these villages, there is family worship every evening at -a specified hour, generally at seven. We met peasants walking along the -road bare-headed, and chanting mass. I came suddenly upon parish priests -and poor women praying before the crucifix by the wayside. The ostlers -and stable-men have the same habit as our own, of pasting or nailing up -rude prints on the stable-doors, and of all those which I examined while -we were changing horses, or where we stopped for food or rest, there was -only one which was not on a sacred subject. In short, to an Englishman -accustomed to the reserve of his own country on such subjects, the -contrast is very startling. If a Hindoo or any other intelligent heathen -were dropped down in any English country, he might travel for days -without knowing whether we have any religion at all; but, most -assuredly, he could not do so in the Tyrol. Now which is the best state -of things? I believe Her Majesty has no stauncher Protestant than I -amongst her subjects, but I own that a week in the Tyrol has made me -reconsider a thing or two. Outwardly, in short, the Tyroleans are the -most religious people in Europe. Of course I am no judge after a week’s -tour whether their faith has gone as deep as it has spread wide. You -can only speak of the bridge as it carries you. Our bills were the most -reasonable I have ever met with, and I could not detect a single attempt -at imposition in the smallest particular. I went into the fruit market -at Meran, and, after buying some grapes, went on to an old woman who was -selling figs. She was wholly unable to understand my speech, so, being -in a hurry, I put a note for the magnificent sum of ten kreutzer (or 3d. -sterling) into her hand, making signs to her to put the equivalent in -figs into a small basket I was carrying. This she proceeded to do, and -when she had piled eight or ten figs on the grapes I turned to go, but -by vehement signs she detained me, till she had given me the full tale, -some three or four more. She was only a fair specimen of what I found on -all sides. The poor old soul had not mastered our legal axiom of _caveat -emptor_, but her trading morality had something attractive about it. -They may be educated in time into buying cheap and selling dear, but as -yet that great principle does not seem to have dawned on them. - -There may be some danger of superstition in this setting up of -crucifixes and sacred prints by the wayside and on stable-doors, but, on -the other hand, the Figure on the cross, meeting one at every corner, -is not unlikely, I should think, to keep a poor man from the commonest -vices to which he is tempted in his daily life, if it does no more. He -would scarcely like to stagger by it drunk from the nearest pot-house. -If stable-boys are to have rough woodcuts on their doors, one of the -Crucifixion or of the _Mater Dolorosa_ is likely to do them more good -than the winner of the Derby or Tom Sayers. - -But my letter is getting too long for your columns, so I can only beg -all your readers to seize the first chance of visiting the Tyrol. -I shall be surprised if they do not come away with much the same -impressions as I have. It is a glad land, above all that I have ever -seen--a land in which a psalm of joy and thankfulness seems to be rising -to heaven from every mountain top and valley, and, mingled with and -beneath it, the solemn low note of a people “breathing thoughtful -breath”--an accompaniment without which there is no true joy possible -in our world, without which all attempt at it rings in the startled -ear like the laugh of a madman. Those words of the old middle-age hymn -seemed to be singing in my ears all through the Tyrol:-- - - Fac me vere tecum flere, - - Crucitixo condolere, - - Donee ego vixcro. - -I shall never find a country in which it will do one more good to -travel. - - - - -Vienna, 10th September 1862. - -The stage Englishman in foreign countries must be always an object of -interest to his countrymen. He is a decidedly popular institution -in Germany, not the least like the Dundreary type, or the sort of -top-booted half fool, half miscreant, one sees at a minor theatre in -Paris. The latest Englishmen on the boards of the summer theatres here -are a Lord Mixpickl, and his man Jack, but the most popular, and those -which appear to be regarded in fatherland as the real thing, are the -Englishmen in a piece called “The Four Sailors.” It opens with a -yawning chorus. Four young Englishmen are discovered sitting at a German -watering-place, reading copies of the _Times_ and _Post_, and yawning -fearfully. The chorus done, one says, “The funds are at 84.” - -“I bet you they are at 86,” says another, and on this point they become -lively. It appears by the talk which ensues, that they have come abroad -resolved on finding some romantic adventure before marrying, which they -are all desirous of doing. This they found impossible at home; hitherto -have not succeeded here; have only succeeded in trampling on the police -arrangements, and getting bored. They all imitate one another in speech -and action, saying “Yaas” in succession very slowly, and always looking -at one another deliberately before acting. Now the four sailors appear, -who are three romantic young women and their maid, disguised as sailors, -under the care of their aunt, a stout easy-going old lady, dressed as a -boatswain, and of lax habits In the matters of tobacco and drink. After -hornpipe dancing and other diversions, the young ladies settle to go -and bathe, and cross the stage where the Englishmen are carrying their -bathing-dresses. A cry is raised that their boat is upset; whereupon the -Englishmen look at one another. At last one gets up, takes off his coat, -folds it up, and puts it carefully on his chair, ditto with waistcoat -and hat, the others doing the same. They walk off in Indian file, and -return each with a half-drowned damsel across his shoulders. Having -deposited their burthens, they return to the front of the stage to -dress, when one suggests that they have never been introduced, upon -which, after a pause, and looking solemnly at each other and the -audience, they ejaculate all together, “Got dam!” They then take refuge -in beer, silence, and pipes. At last one says, “This is curious!” Three -yaas’, and a pause. Another, “This is an adventure!” Three yaas’, and -a longer pause. At last, “Dat ist romantisch!” propounds another. -Tumultuous yaas’ break forth at this discovery. The object of their -journey is accomplished, they marry the four sailors, and return to love -and Britain. - -The summer theatres are charming institutions, but somewhat casual. For -instance, while we were at Ischl, there were no performances because the -weather was too fine. Ischl itself is wonderfully attractive, and as he -has not the chance of getting a seaside watering-place, the Kaiser Konig -has shown much taste in the selection of Ischl. The Traun and Ischl, -which meet here, are both celebrated for beauty and trout (a young -Englishman was wading about and having capital sport while we were -there). You get fine views of glaciers from the hills which rise on all -sides close to the town, and the five valleys at the junction of which -it lies are all finely wooded and well worth exploring. The town is -furnished with a drinking-hall (but no gambling), baths, a casino, -pretty promenades, and Herzogs and other grand folk, with Hussar and -other officers in plenty to enliven them. You can dance every evening -almost if you like, and gloves are fabulously good, and only a florin -a pair for men, or with two buttons, for ladies, a florin and ten -kreutzers; so, having regard to the number which are now found necessary -in London, it would almost pay young persons to visit Ischl once a year -to make their purchases. There is also a specialty in the way of pretty -old fashioned looking jewellery made and sold here cheap, but the Passau -pearls found in the great cockle-shells of these parts are dear, though -certainly very handsome. I must not forget the rifle-range amongst the -attractions of the place. I fell in with two members of the Inns of -Court, and we heard the well-known crack, and soon hunted out the scene -of operations. We found some Austrian gentlemen practising at 100 yards -at a target with a small black centre, within which was a scarcely -distinguishable bull’s-eye. When a centre is made the marker comes out, -bows, waves his arms twice, and utters two howls called “yodels.” When -the bull’s-eye is struck a shell explodes behind, the Austrian eagle -springs up above the target, and a Tyrolean, the size of life, from each -side--which performance so fascinated one of my companions that he made -interest with the shooters, who allowed him to use one of their rifles. -I rejoice to say that he did not disgrace the distinguished corps to -which he belongs. At his first shot he obtained the bow and two howls -from the marker, and at his fourth the explosion and appearances above -described followed, whereupon he wisely retired on his laurels. - -You proceed eastwards from Ischl, down the beautiful valley of the -Traun to Eben; see the great store-place for the salt and wood of the -district. The logs accompany you, in the river, all the way down; and -it is amusing to watch their different ways of floating. Such of them as -are not stopped in transit by the hooks of the inhabitants are collected -by a boom stretched across the head of the Gmünden Lake, on which you -take boat at Eben See. The skipper of the steamer is an Englishman, -who has been there for thirty years--a quiet matter-of-fact man, who -collects his own tickets, wears no uniform, and has a profound disbelief -in the accuracy of the information furnished to tourists in these parts -by the natives. Long absence from home has somewhat depressed him, but -he lights up for a few moments when he gets on his paddle-box and orders -the steam to be put on to charge the boom. But travellers should -consult him if they want correct information, and should not trust in -“Bradshaw.” The lion of the neighbourhood is the Traun Falls; and a -station has been opened on the railway to Lintz to facilitate the seeing -of the falls, which station is not even mentioned in the “Bradshaw” for -August 1862. This is too bad. - -I had considerable opportunities of seeing the state of the country in -Austria. The people are prosperous and independent to a degree which -much astonished me. They are almost all what we should call yeomanry, -owning from twenty to two hundred acres of land. Even the labourers, who -work for the great proprietors, own their own cottages and an acre or -so of land round; in fact, the Teutonic passion for owning land is so -strong that, unless a man can acquire some, he manages to emigrate. -Since 1848 the communes have stepped into the position of lords of the -manors, and own most of the woods and the game. The great proprietors -pay them for the right of sporting over their own lands. In faet, -whatever may be the case with the higher classes, the people here seem -to have it much their own way since 1848. We spent a Sunday afternoon -in the palace gardens at Schonbrunn, into which half the populace of -Vienna, smoking vile-smelling cigars, seemed to have poured in omnibuses -and cabs, which stood before the palace, and on foot. We (the people) -occupied the whole of the gardens, and a splendid military band played -for our behoof. You reach the gardens by passing under the palace, -so that King People was everywhere, and the Kaiser Konig, if he wants -retirement, must stay in his private rooms. A report spread that the -Emperor and Empress were coming out, whereupon King People, and we -amongst them, swept into the lower part of the palace, and right up to a -private staircase, at the foot of which an open carriage was standing. -A few burly and well-behaved guardsmen remonstrated good-humouredly, but -with no effect. There we remained in block, men, women, and children, -the pipes and cigars were not extinguished, and the smell was anything -but imperial. Presently the Emperor and Empress came down, and the -carriage passed at a foot’s pace through the saluting and pleased crowd. -The Empress is the most charming-looking royal personage I have ever -seen, and seemed to think it quite right that the people should occupy -her house and grounds. Fancy omnibuses driving into the Court-yard -of Buckingham Palace, and John Bull proceeding to occupy the private -gardens! John himself would decidedly think that the end of the world -was come. The Constitution, too, seems to work well from all I heard. -The Court party has ceased almost to struggle for power. It revenges -itself, however, in social life. Society (so called) is more exclusive -in Vienna than anywhere else, and consists of some 400 or 500 persons -all told. Even the most distinguished soldiers and statesmen have not -the _entrée_. Benedek’s family is not in society, nor Schmerling’s, -though I hear his daughter is one of the prettiest and most ladylike -girls in Austria. All which is very silly, doubtless, but the chief -sufferers are the 400 inhabitants who drive in the Prater, and go to -the Leichtenstein and Schwartzenburg parties, and after all, if -aristocracies in the foolish sense are inevitable, an aristocracy of -birth is preferable to one of money, or, _me judice_, of intellect, -seeing that the latter gives itself at least as absurd airs, and is -likely to be much more mischievous. On the other hand, my Hungarian -sympathies have been somewhat shaken since visiting the country. I -suppose the national dress has something to say to it. An Englishman -cannot swallow braided coats, and tight coloured pants, and boots all -at once, and the carriage and airs of the men are offensive. I say this -more on the judgment of several of my country-women on this point than -on my own, but from my own observation I can say that Pesth, to a mere -passer-by, has all the appearances of the most immoral capital in the -world. In the best shops, in the best streets, there are photographs and -engravings exhibited which, with us, would speedily call Lord Campbell’s -Act into operation. And the Haymarket is in many respects moral in -comparison with many parts of Pesth. It is the only place in Europe -where I have seen men going about drunk before midday. In short, you -will perceive that my inspection inclines me to suspect that there may -he more than one has been wont to believe in the assertion, that the -Constitution we hear so much of is aristocratic and one which will -give back old feudal privileges to a conquering race and enable them -to oppress Slaves, Croats, etc., as they did before 1848. There is, -everybody admits, a large discontented class in Hungary, composed -chiefly of the poor nobility (who have long ago spent their compensation -money), and professional men, especially advocates, but it is -strenuously maintained that the great mass of the people have been far -better off in all ways and more contented since 1849. I don’t pretend -to give you anything except the most apparently truthful evidence I -can pick up by the wayside, and the observations of my own eyes, and -certainly the latter have not been favourable to Hungary in any way, -though they look certainly very like a fighting race, these Magyars. The -railroad from Pesth to Basiash, where one embarks on the Danube, passes -through enormous flats, heavy for miles and miles with maize and other -crops, and very thinly peopled. It is a constant wonder where the people -can come from to reap and garner it all. The great fault of the country -is the dust, which is an abominable nuisance. Certainly the facilities -for travelling are getting to be all that can be wished in our time. A -little more than forty-eight hours will bring a man, who can stand night -journeys, to Vienna; after resting a night, eighteen hours more will -bring him to Basiash, where he will at once plunge into the old world of -turbans and veiled women, minarets and mosques; man and beast and bird, -houses and habits, all strange and new to him; and if the Danube fares -were not atrociously high, there are few things I would more earnestly -recommend to my holiday-making countrymen than a trip down that noblest, -of European rivers. Considering the present state of political matters, -too, in the world, he can hardly select a more interesting country. -Certainly the Eastern question gains wonderfully in interest when one -has seen ever so little of the lands and people about which the wisest -heads of all the wisest statesmen of our day are speculating and -scheming--not very wisely, I fear, at present. - - - - -The Danube, 13th September 1862. - -The Rhine may, perhaps, fairly be compared with the Upper Danube, -between Lintz and Vienna, even between Vienna and Pesth. There is no -great disparity so far, either in the size of themselves or of the hills -and plains through which they run. The traveller’s tastes, artistic and -historical, decide his preference. The constant succession of ruined -holds of the old oppressors of the earth which he meets on the Rhine, -are wanting on the Danube. It is certainly a satisfaction to see such -places thoroughly ruined--to triumph over departed scoundrelism wherever -one comes on its relics. As a compensation, however, he will find on the -Danube a huge building or two, such as that of the Benedictine Monastery -at Molk, or the Cathedral and Palace of the Primate of Hungary at Gran, -of living interest, and with work still to do in the world. There is -not much to choose between the banks of the two streams in the matter of -general historical interest, though to me the long struggle between the -Christian and the Moslem, the footprints of which meet one on all sides, -gives the Danube slightly the advantage even in this respect. There -are longer gaps of flat uninteresting country on the eastern stream, -no doubt, which may be set off against the sameness and neatness of the -perpetual vineyard on the western; and on the Danube you get, now and -then, a piece of real forest, which you never see, so far as I remember, -on the Rhine. - -Below Belgrade, however, all comparison ceases. The Rhine is half the -size of its rival, and flows westward through the highest cultivation -and civilisation to the German Ocean, while the huge Danube rushes -through the Carpathians into a new world--an eastern people, living -amidst strange beasts and birds, in a country which is pretty much as -Trajan left it. You might as well compare Killiecrankie to the Brenner -Pass, as any thing on the Rhine to the Kazan, the defile by which -the Danube struggles through the western Carpathians. Here the river -contracts in breadth from more than a mile to between 200 and 300 yards; -the depth is 170 feet. The limestone rocks on both sides rise to near -2000 feet, coming sheer down to the water in many places, clothed with -forest wherever there is hold for roots. Along the Servian side, on the -face of the precipice, a few feet above the stream, run the long line of -sockets in which the beams were fastened for the support of his covered -road by Trajan’s legions. A tablet and an inscription 1740 years old -still bear, I believe, the great Roman’s name, and a memorial of his -Dacian campaign, though I cannot vouch for the fact, as we shot by it at -twenty miles an hour; but I could distinctly see Roman letters. On the -left bank the Austrians have carried a road by blasting and masonry; and -a cavern which was held for weeks by 400 men against a Turkish army in -1692 commands the whole pass. - -We had scarcely entered the defile when some eight or ten eagles -appeared sweeping slowly round over a spot in the hanging wood, where -probably a deer or goat was dying. I counted upwards of thirty before -we left the Kazan; several were so near the boat that you could plainly -mark the glossy barred plumage, and every turn of the body and tail as -they steered about upon those marvellous, motionless wings. One swooped -to the water almost within shot, but missed the fish, or whatever his -intended prey might be. A water ouzel or two were the only other living -creatures which appeared to draw our attention for a moment from the -sway of the mighty stream and the succession of the dizzy heights. Below -the pass the stream widens again. You lose something of the feeling of -power in the mass of water below you, though the superficial excitement -of whirl, and rush, and eddy, is much increased. Here, at Orsova, a -small military town on the frontier line between Hungary and -Wallachia, we turned out into a flat-bottomed steamer, with four tiny -paddle-wheels, drawing only some three feet of water, which was to carry -us over the Iron Gates, as the rapids are called; and beautifully the -little duck fulfilled her task. The English on board, three ladies and -five men, had already fraternised; we occupied the places in the bows. -The deck was scarcely a yard above water, and there were no bulwarks, -only a strong rail to lean against. The rush of the stream here beat any -mill-race I have ever seen, and the little steamer bounded along over -the leaping, boiling water at the rate of a fast train. Twice only she -plunged a little, shipping just enough water to cause some discomposure -amongst the ladies’ dresses, and to wet our feet. We shot past the wreck -of a Turkish iron Steamer in the wildest part, which had grounded on its -way up to Belgrade with munitions of war. The Servians had boarded and -burnt her, and there she lay, and will lie, till the race washes her to -pieces, for there is nothing to be got out of her now except the iron of -her hull. Below the Iron Gate, a fine Austrian steamer received us, and -we moved statelily out into the stream on our remaining thirty hours’ -voyage. We had left the mountains, but were still amongst respectable -hills covered with forest, full of game, an engineer officer who was on -board told us, and plenty of wolves to be had in the winter--too many, -indeed, occasionally. A friend of his had knocked up a little wooden -shooting-box in these Wallachian forests--a rough affair, with a -living-room below, a bedroom above. He had found the wolves so shy that -he scarcely believed in them; however, to give the matter a fair trial, -he asked three or four friends to his box, bought a dead horse, and -roasted him outside. The speedy consequence was such a crowd of wolves -that he and his friends had to take refuge in the bedroom and fight for -their lives; as it was, the wolves were very near starving them out. And -now the river had widened again, and water-fowl could rest and feed on -the surface. - -The hot evening, for hot enough it was, though cool in comparison of the -day, brought them out in flocks round the islands and over the shallows. -I was just feasting my eyes with the sight of wild swans, quite at their -ease in our neighbourhood, when three huge white birds came sailing past -with a flight almost as steady as the eagles we had seen in the -Kazan. “What are they?” I said eagerly to my companion, the engineer. -“Pelicans,” he answered, as coolly as if they had been water-hens. In -another moment they lighted on the water, and I saw their long bills and -pouches. Fancy the new sensation, sir! But on this part of the Danube -there is no want of new sensations. Our first stop at a Bulgarian -village--or town, perhaps, I should call it, for it boasted a -tumble-down fort, with some rude earthworks, and half a dozen minarets -shot up from amongst its houses and vineyards--may be reckoned amongst -the chief of these. What can be more utterly new to an Englishman than -to come upon a crowd of poor men, who have their daily bread to earn, -half of whom are quietly asleep, and the rest squatting or standing -about, without offering, or thinking of offering, to help when there -is work to be done under their noses? One was painfully reminded of the -eager, timid anxiety to be allowed to carry luggage for a penny or two -which one meets with at home. Here one had clearly got into the blissful -realms where time is absolutely of no account, and if you want a thing -done, you can do it yourself. Our arrival was evidently an event looked -forward to in some sort, for there were goods on the wharf waiting for -us, and several of the natives had managed to bring down great baskets -full of grapes, by which they had seated themselves. We were all -consumed with desire for grapes, and headed by the steward of the -vessel, who supplies his table here, rushed ashore and fell upon the -baskets. It seemed to be a matter of perfect indifference to the owners -whether we took them or let them alone, or how many we took, or whether -we paid or not. The only distinct idea they had, was that they would -not take Austrian money. Our English emissary returned with six or -seven huge bunches for which he had given promise to pay two piastres to -somebody. The piastre was then (ten days ago) worth one penny, it is now -worth twopence--a strange country is Turkey. There were some buffaloes -lying in the water, with their great ears flopping, to move the air a -little, and keep off flies. A half-grown Turkish lad was squatted near -the head of one of them, over which he was scooping up the water with -his hands, the only human being in voluntary activity. His work was -thoroughly appreciated; I never saw a more perfect picture of enjoyment -than the buffalo who was getting this shower-bath. The costumes, of -course, are curious and striking to a stranger, but turbans and fezzes, -camel’s hair jackets, and loose cotton drawers,--even the absence of -these in many instances, and the substitute of copper-coloured flesh -as a common garb of the country--are after all only superficial -differences. It is the quiet immobility of the men which makes one feel -at once that they are a different race, and the complete absence -of women in the crowds. The cottages, in general, look like great -mole-hills. They look miserable enough, but I believe are well suited -to the climate, being sunk three or four feet in the ground, which keeps -them cool in summer and warm in winter. Our Crimean experience bears -this out. The mud huts sunk in the ground and thatched roughly were -far more comfortable all weathers than those sent out from England. The -campaign between the Russians and Turks at the beginning of the late war -became much clearer to me as we passed down the river. It must be a very -difficult operation to invade Bulgaria from the Principalities, for the -southern bank commands the dead flat of the Wallachian banks almost all -the way down. The serious check which the Russians got at Oltenitza was -a great puzzle in England. We could not make out how it happened. Omar -Pasha seemed to have made a monstrous blunder in throwing a single -division across the river, and we wondered at his luck in getting so -well out of it. The fact is that it was a real stroke of generalship. -The Russian corps were about to cross at points above and below. Omar’s -cannon posted on the Bulgarian heights completely commanded the opposite -plain, where a considerable stream runs into the Danube. This stream -protected the left flank of the division which crossed, and they threw -up earth-works along their front and right. The Russians recalled -the corps which were about to cross, thinking to annihilate them, -and attacked under a plunging fire from the Turkish artillery on the -opposite bank, which, combined with that from the earth-works, was -unendurable, and they were repulsed with enormous loss. It is by no -means so easy, however, to understand why they did not take Silistria. -Here they had crossed, were in great force, and had no strong position -to attack. The famous work of Arab Tabia, the key of the position which -was so gallantly held by Butler and Nasmyth with a few hundred Turkish -soldiers under them, is nothing but a low mound, which you can scarcely -make out from the steamer. Why they should not have marched right over -it and into the town is a mystery. - -The village of Tchernavoda where the steamer lands passengers for -Constantinople, consists of a very poor inn, some great warehouses for -corn, and some half-dozen Turkish cottages. An English company has made -the railroad across to Kustandjie, on the Black Sea, so that you escape -the long round by the mouths of the Danube. I fear it must be a very -poor speculation, but it is very convenient. The line runs through a -chain of lakes, by which it is often flooded. Once last winter the water -came nearly into the carriages. The train was, of course, stopped, and -had to remain in the water, which froze hard in the night. I believe -the passengers had to proceed over the ice. If any young Englishman who -combines the tastes of a sportsman and naturalist wants a field for his -energies, I can’t fancy a better one than these lakes. The birds swarm; -every sort of duck and sea-bird one had ever heard of, besides pelicans, -wild swans, bitterns, (the first I ever saw out of a museum) and herons, -and I know not what other fowl were there, especially a beautiful white -bird exactly like our heron, but snowy white. I saw two of these. I -don’t believe they were storks, at least not the common kind which I -have seen. - -We had been journeying past the scene of the late conferences, and of -the excitement which was so nearly breaking out into war a month or two -back, and had plenty of Servians and other interested persons on board; -but, so far as I could learn, everything is quieting down into its -ordinary state--an unsatisfactory one, no doubt, but not unlikely to -drag on for some time yet. Should the Servians and other discontented -nationalities, however, break out and come to be in need of a king, or -other person of that kind, just now, they may have the chance of getting -two countrymen of ours to fill such posts. We left them preparing -to invade Servia on a shooting and exploring expedition, armed with -admirable guns, revolvers, and a powder for the annihilation of insects. -They were quite aware of the present unsettled state of affairs, and -prepared to avail themselves of anything good which might turn up on -their travels. - - - - -Constantinople, 34th September 1862. - -The Eastern question! It is very easy indeed to have distinct notions -on the Eastern question. I had once, not very long ago neither. Of -course, like every Englishman, I was for fighting, sooner than the -Russians, or any other European Power, should come to the Bosphorus -without the leave of England, and that as often as might be necessary, -and quite apart from any consideration as to the internal state of the -country. But as for the Turks, I as much thought that their time was -about over in Europe as the Czar Nicholas when he talked of the sick -man to Sir Hamilton Seymour. They were a worn-out horde, the degenerate -remnant of a conquering race, who were keeping down with the help of -some of the Christian Powers, ourselves notably amongst the number, -Christian subjects--Bulgarians, Servians, Greeks, and others--more -numerous and better men than themselves. I could never see why these -same Christian subjects should not be allowed to kick the Turks out of -Europe if they could, or why we should take any trouble to bolster them -up. Perhaps I do not see yet why they should not be allowed, if they -can do it by themselves; but I am free to acknowledge that the Eastern -question, the nearer you get to it, and the more you look into it, -like many other political questions, gets more and more puzzling and -complicated and turns up quite a new side to you. A week or two on the -Bosphorus spent in looking about one, and sucking the brains of men of -all nations who have had any experience of this remarkable country, make -one see that there is a good deal to be said for wishing well to the -Turks, notwithstanding their false creed and bad practices. I hear here -the most wonderfully contradictory evidence about these Turks. They have -one quality of a ruling nation assuredly in perfection--the power of -getting themselves heartily hated. But so far as I could test them, the -common statements as to their dishonesty and corruption are vague and -general if you try to sift them, and I find that even those who abuse -them are apt in practice to prefer them to Creeks, Armenians, or any -other of the subject people in these parts. On the other hand, you -certainly do hear much of the honesty of the lower classes of the Turks. -For instance, it seems that contracts are scarcely ever made here in -writing, and in actions of debt if a Turk will appear and swear that he -was never indebted, the case is at an end, and he walks out of court -a free man. Admiral Slade, amongst his other functions, is judge of a -court which is a sort of mixture of an Admiralty and County Court, -in which he tries very many actions of debt in the year. After an -experience of nearly three years he told my informant that he had had -only two cases in which a defendant had adopted this summary method of -getting out of his difficulties. Again in the huge maze of bazaars in -Stamboul there is a quarter, some sixty yards square, at least, I should -say, which is _par excellence_ the Turkish bazaar. The Jews, Armenians, -and Greeks, who far out-number the Turks in the other quarters of the -bazaars, have no place here; or if an Armenian or two creep in, it is -only on sufferance. The Turks are a very early nation, and not given to -overwork themselves, and this bazaar of theirs is shut at twelve o’clock -every day, or soon afterwards, and left in charge of one man. I passed -through it one day when many of the shops were closing. The process -consisted of just sweeping the smaller articles into a sort of closet -which each merchant has at the back of the divan on which he sits, and -leaving the heavier articles (such as old inlaid firelocks, swords, -large china vases, and the like) where they were, hanging or standing -outside. Most of the merchandise, I quite admit, is old rubbish; still -there are many articles of considerable value and very portable, and -certainly every possible temptation to robbery is given both to those -who shut up latest and to the man who is left in charge of all this -property, and yet a theft of the smallest article is unheard of. In -this very bazaar I saw an instance of honesty which struck me much. The -custom of trade here is, as every one knows, that the vendor asks twice -or three times as much as he will take, and you have to beat him down to -a fair price. I accompanied a lady who had to make some purchases. After -a hard struggle, she succeeded in getting what she wanted at her own -price; but her adversary evidently felt aggrieved, and declared that he -should be a loser by the transaction. She cast up the total in her head, -paid the money; her _cavass_ (as they call the substitutes for footmen -here, who accompany ladies about the streets with scimitars by their -sides, and sticks in their hands, to belabour the Jews and Greeks with -who get in the way) had taken up the things, and we had left the shop, -when the aggrieved merchant came out, called us back, explained to her -that she had made a wrong calculation by ten francs or so, and refunded -the difference. I was much surprised. The whole process was so like an -attempt to cheat that it seemed very odd that the man who habitually -practised it should yet scruple to take advantage of such a slip as -this. But my companion, who knows the bazaars well, assured me that it -was always the case. A Turk does not care what he asks you, often loses -impatient customers by asking fabulously absurd prices, but the moment -he has made his bargain is scrupulously exact in keeping to it, and will -not take advantage of a farthing in changing your foreign money, or of -your ignorance of the value of his currency. This was her experience. I -might multiply instances of Turkish honesty if it were of any use, but -have been unable to collect a single instance of the like virtue on the -part of Greeks or Armenians. Every man’s word seems against them, though -their sharpness in trade and cleverness and activity in other ways are -admitted on all hands. I found that every one whose judgment I could at -all depend on, however much he might dislike the Turks, preferred -them to any other of the people of the country whenever there was any -question of trust. So, on the whole, notwithstanding their idleness, -their hatred of novelties and love of backsheesh, their false worship -and bigotry, and the evils which this false worship brings in its train, -I must say that the immense preponderance of oral evidence is in their -favour, as decidedly the most upright and respectable of the races who -inhabit Turkey in Europe. One does not put much faith in one’s own eyes -in a question of this kind, but, taking them for what they are worth, -mine certainly led me to the same conclusion. The Turkish boatmen, -porters, shopmen, contrast very favourably with their Greek and other -rivals. - -In short, they look particularly like honest self-respecting men, which -the others emphatically do not. - -If this be true, and so long as it continues to be true, I for one am -for keeping the Turks where they are. And this does not involve any -intervention on our parts. They are quite able to hold their own if no -foreign power interferes with them, and all we have to do is to see that -they are fairly let alone, which is not the case at present. For the -present Government of Fuad Pasha is the best and strongest Turkey -has seen for many a year. Fuad’s doings in Syria led one to expect -considerable things of him, for few living statesmen have successfully -solved such a problem as putting down the disturbances there, avenging -the Damascus massacre, quieting the religious excitement, and getting -the French out of the country. All this, however, he managed with great -firmness and skill, and since he has been Prime Minister he has given -proofs of ability in another direction equally important for the future -of his country. Turkish finance was in a deplorable state when he came -into power. I don’t suppose that it is in a very sound condition -now, but at any rate the first, and a very important, step has been -successfully made. Until within the last few months the paper currency -here, called _caimé_, has been the curse of the country. There were -somewhere about five million sterling’s worth of small notes, for sums -from ten piastres (2s.) to fifty piastres in circulation. The value of -these notes was constantly fluctuating, often varying thirty or forty -per cent in a few days. The whole of these notes have been called in by -the present Government and exchanged for small silver coin within the -last two months, so that now the value of the piastre in Turkey is -fixed. A greater blessing to the country can scarcely be conceived, -and the manner in which the conversion has been effected has been most -masterly. The English loan, no doubt, has enabled Fuad to do this, and -he has had Lord Hobart at his elbow to advise and assist him in the -operation. But, making all proper drawbacks, a very large balance of -credit is due to the Turkish Government, as will appear when the English -Commissioner’s Report appears in due course, the contents of which I -have neither the knowledge nor the wish to anticipate. The settlement, -for the present, at least, of the Servian and Montenegrin difficulties -are further proofs, it seems to me, of the vigour and ability of the -present Government. But still, giving the Turkish statesmen now in power -full credit for all they have done, one cannot help feeling that this -Eastern question is full of the most enormous difficulties, is, in -short, about the most complicated of all the restless, importunate, -ill-mannered questions that are crying out “Come, solve me,” in this -troublesome old continent of ours. - -For it hardly needs a voyage to the East to convince any man who cares -about such matters that this Turkish Empire is in a state of solution. -If one did want convincing on the point, a few days here would be enough -to do it. Let him spend a few hours as I did last week at the Sweet -Waters of Asia on a Turkish Sunday (Friday), and he will scarcely want -further proof. The Sweet Waters of Asia are those of a muddy little -rivulet, which flow into the sparkling Bosphorus some four miles above -Constantinople. Along the side of this stream, at its junction with the -Bosphorus, is a small level plain, which has been for I know not how -long the resort of the Turkish women. Here they come once a week on -their Sundays, to look at the hills and the Bosphorus without the -interference of blinds and jalousies, and at some other human beings -besides the slaves and other inmates of their own harems. You arrive -there in a caique, and find yourself at a jump plump in the middle of -the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. The Sultan has built a superb kiosk -(summer-house) here, with a façade and balustrade of beautiful white -marble, one hundred yards long, fronting the Bosphorus. (They tell me, -by the way, that the whole kiosk is of the same white marble, and so -it may be, but, at any rate, if it be, it is most superfluously -covered with yellow stucco.) Outside the enclosure of his kiosk, at the -Bosphorus end of the little plain, and some fifty yards from the shore, -is a fine square marble fountain, with texts from the Koran in green and -gold upon it, and steps all round. A few plane-trees give a little shade -round it. On all the steps of the fountain, along the kiosk garden wall, -under the plane-trees, and out on the turf of the valley, are seated -Turkish women of every rank, from the Grand Vizier’s wife and family, -on superbly embroidered cushions and carpets, and cloaked in the most -fascinating purple and pink silks, down to poor men’s wives, in faded -stuffs, on old scraps of drugget which a rag-collector would scarcely -pick out of the gutter. Others of the veiled women are driving -slowly round the little plain in the strangest carriages, just like -Cinderella’s coach in the children’s books, or in arabas drawn by two -oxen, and ornamented with silk or cotton hangings. Here the poor women -sit, or drive, or walk for an hour or two, and smoke cigarettes, and eat -fruit and sweetmeats, and drink coffee, which viands are brought with -them or supplied by itinerant dealers on the ground. So far, the scene -is just what it might have been in the days of Haroun Alraschid, and the -black eunuchs standing about or walking by the carriages seem to warn -off all contact with the outer world. But what is the fact? There were -English and French ladies sitting on the carpets of the Grand Vizier’s -wife and talking with her. There were men and women of all nations -walking about or sitting close by the veiled groups, and plenty of -Turkish men looking on, or themselves talking to unbelievers, and -seeming to think that it was all quite natural. It is impossible in a -few words to convey the impression of utter incongruity which this and -other scenes of the same kind give one. Islamism and Frankism--Western -civilisation, or whatever you like to call it,--I dare not call it -Christianity,--are no longer at arm’s length. They are fairly being -stirred up together. What will come of it? At a splendid garden _fête_, -given by a great Pasha in the spring, amongst other novelties dancing -was perpetrated. The Pasha is a Turk of advanced ideas. His wife (he has -only one) and the other women of his household were allowed to look on -from the harem windows. “In two years they will be down here, in five -they will be dancing, and in ten they will wear crinolines,” said an -Englishman to one of the French Embassy with whom he was walking. “Et -alors l’empire serait sauvé,” replied the Frenchman. Not exactly so, -perhaps, but still the speakers were touching the heart of the Eastern -question. The harem or the Turks will have to go down in Europe in the -next few years. But as this letter is already too long, I hope you will -let me say what I have to say on the subject in my next. - - - - -Constantinople, 30th September 1862. - -Amongst the many awkward facts which the Turks in Europe have to look -in the face and deal with speedily, there is one which seems specially -threatening. They have no class of educated men. “Some remedy _must_ be -found for this,” say their friends; “things cannot go on as they are. -The body of your people may be, we believe they are, sound and honest as -times go, superior indeed in all essentials to the other races who -are mixed up with them, but this will not avail you much longer.” - Steamboats, telegraphs, railways, have invaded Turkey already. The great -tide of modern material civilisation is flooding in upon the East, with -its restless, unmanageable eddies and waves, which have sapped, and are -sapping, the foundations, and overwhelming the roof trees, of stronger -political edifices than that of the Sublime Porte. If you Turks cannot -control and manage the tide, it will very soon drown you. Now where are -your men to do this? You have just now Fuad Pasha, and three or four -other able men, and reasonably honest, who understand their time, and -are guiding your affairs well. Besides them you have a few dozen men--we -can count them on our fingers--who have educated themselves decently, -and who may possibly prove fit for the highest places. But that -is doubtful, and for all minor offices, executive, administrative, -judicial, you have no competent men at all. The places are abominably -filled, and for one Turk who is able to fill them even thus badly you -have to employ ten foreigners, generally renegades. This is what Turkish -patriots have to look to. You _must_ find a class of men capable of -dealing with this modern deluge, or you will have to move out of Europe, -all we can say or do to the contrary notwithstanding. - -All very true, say the enemies of the Turks. The facts are patent -enough, but the remedy! That is all moonshine. You _cannot_ have an -educated class of Turks, and you cannot stop the deluge; so you had -better stand back and let it sweep over them as soon as may be, and look -out for something to follow. - -I believe that this dispute does touch the very heart of the Eastern -question, for it goes to the root of their social life; and the answer -to it must depend, in great part, upon the future of their “peculiar -institution”--the harem. For, alas the day! the harem is the place -of education for Turkish boys of the upper classes. And how can it be -helped? The boys must be with the women for the first years of their -lives, and the women must be in the harems. We need not believe all the -stories which are current about the abominations of these places. It -is quite likely that the number of child-murders and other atrocities, -which one hears of on all sides, may be exaggerated. But where there -is a part of every rich man’s house into which the police cannot enter, -which is to all intents beyond the reach of the law--in which the -inmates, all of one sex, are confined, with no connection with the outer -world, and no occupations or interests whatever except food and dress -(they are not even allowed to attend mosque)--one can hardly be startled -by anything which one may be told of what is done in them; and it is -impossible to conceive a more utterly enervating and demoralising place -for a boy to be brought up in. There is nothing in Turkey answering to -the great schools, colleges, and universities of Western Europe. There -is no healthy home life to substitute for them. The harem is the place -of education, and, with very rare exception, the boys come out of its -atmosphere utterly unfitted for any useful active life. - -This is the great difficulty of the Turks in Europe. If they could break -the neck of it the others need not frighten them; and so the best of -them feel, and are doing something towards meeting the difficulty. Many -Turks are setting the example of taking only one wife, and of living -with her in their own houses as the men of Christian nations do. A few -have done away with the separate system, so far as they themselves are -concerned, and their harems are so only in name. They encourage foreign -ladies to call on their wives, and would gladly go further. Some of them -have even tried taking their wives with them into public; but this has -been premature. The nation will not stand it yet. The women themselves -object. The few who feel the degradation of their present lives, and -are anxious to help their husbands in getting rid of it, are looked upon -with so much suspicion that they dare not move on so fast. Honest -female conservatism has taken fright, and combines with vice, sloth, and -jealousy, to keep things as they are. However, the women will come -round fast enough if the men are only in earnest. They get all their -outer-world notions from the men, and as soon as the men will say, “We -wish you to live with us as the Giaours’ wives live with them,” the -thing will be done. - -I may say, then, from what I have myself seen and heard, that a serious -attempt is being made by the Turks--few in number, certainly, at -present, but strong in position and character--to break the chain -of their old customs, especially this of the harem, and to conform -outwardly to Western habits and manners. This is being done mainly for -political reasons, and if nothing more enters into the movement will -probably fail; for, in spite of the great changes which have taken -place in Turkey in Europe of late years, there is a tremendous power of -passive resistance and hatred of all change amongst the people, which -no motives of expediency will be able to break through. It will take -something deeper than political expediency to do that. Is there the sign -of any such power above the horizon? - -Well, sir, of course my opinion is worth very little. A fortnight’s -residence in a country, whatever opportunities one may have had, and -however one may have tried and desired to use them, cannot be of much -use in judging questions of this kind. Take my impressions, then, for -what they are worth, at any rate they are honest, and the result of -the best observation of a deeply interested spectator. Islamism as a -religious faith is all but gone in Turkey in Europe. Up to 1856 the -Turks were still a dominant and persecuting race, and Islamism a -persecuting creed. Since the Hatti humayoun, which was, perhaps, the -most important result of the Crimean war, there has been nominally -absolute religious toleration--actually something very nearly -approaching to it--in Turkey in Europe. Islamism was spread by the -sword, and the consequence of this method of propagation was that large -layers of the population were only nominally converted. These have never -since been either Moslem or Christians but a bad mixture of the two. -Since 1856 this has become more and more apparent. I will only mention -one fact bearing on the point, though I heard many. An American -missionary traveller in a part of Roumelia not very far from -Constantinople found the people, though nominally Turks, yet with many -Christian practices and traditions, to which they were much attached, -but which they had till lately kept secret. They did not seem inclined -to make any further profession of Christianity, or to give up their -Moslem profession, but were anxious that he should read the Bible to -them. They had not heard it for generations, but had preserved the -tradition of it. He did so; and afterwards parties of them would come -to the Bosphorus to his house to hear him read, and, I believe, do so -still. It is a curious story to hear of bodies of men sitting to hear -the old Book read, and weeping and going away. It takes one back to the -finding of the Book of the Law in Josiah’s day. Amongst the Turks proper -there is only one article of Islamism which is held with any strength, -and that is the hatred of any approach to image worship. In this they -are fanatics still. Thirty years ago the then Sultan nearly caused a -revolution by having his likeness put on coin. The issue was called in, -and to this day there is nothing but a cipher on the piastres and other -Turkish coin. The rest of their faith sits very lightly on them, and -is much more of a political than a religious garment. There is a strong -feeling of patriotism amongst the people (though it, and all else that -is noble, seems to have died out amongst the insignificant upper class, -if one may speak of such a thing here)--a patriotism of race more than -of country; and it is this, and not their faith, which is holding the -present state of things together. - -Now, I am not going to tell you, sir, that the Turks in Europe are about -to be converted to Christianity. I only say that Islamism is all but -dead on our continent; that the most able and far-seeing of the Turks -see and feel this more and more every day themselves; that they are -themselves adopting, and are trying to introduce, practices and habits -which are utterly inconsistent with their old creed; that they have, in -fact, already virtually abandoned it. “We must have a civilisation,” the -best men amongst them say; “but what we want is a Turkish civilisation, -and not a French, or Russian, or English civilisation.” Yes; but on -what terms is such a civilisation possible for you? Well, sir, I am -old-fashioned enough to believe myself that the Christian faith is the -only possible civiliser of mankind. The only civilisation which has -reached the East--the outside civilisation of steam, gas, and the -like--will do nothing but destroy, unless you have something stronger to -graft it upon. What is the good of sending messages half round the world -in a few seconds, if the messages are lies; of carrying cowards -and scoundrels about at the rate of fifty-miles an hour; of forging -instruments of fearful power for the hands of the oppressors of the -earth? Not much will come of this kind of civilisation alone for any -nation; and, as for these poor Turks, it is powerful enough to blow them -up altogether, and that is all it will do for them. - -When one stands in Great Sophia, and sees the defaced crosses, and the -names of Mahomet and his successors, on huge ugly green sign-boards, -hanging in the most prominent places of the noblest church of the East, -it is difficult not to feel something of the Crusading spirit. But, if -the Turks were swept out of Europe to-morrow, I doubt whether it would -not be a misfortune for the world. We should not only be expelling the -best race of the country, but they would retire into Asia sullen and -resentful, hating the West and its faith more than ever. Islamism would -gain new life from the reaction which would take place; for the Turks -will not go without making a strong fight, and Turkey in Europe would be -left to a riff-raff of nominal Christians, with more than all the vices -and none of the redeeming virtues of their late masters. It would be a -far higher and nobler triumph for Christendom to see the Turks restoring -the crosses and taking down the sign-boards. That sooner or later they -will become Christians I have no sort of doubt whatever, after seeing -them; for they are too strong a race to disappear. No nation can go -on long without a faith, and there is none other for them to turn to. -Modern Greeks may regret their old Paganism--here they say seriously -that many of them openly avow it; but for a Turk who finds Islamism -crumble away beneath him, it must be Christianity or nothing. The -greatest obstacle to the conversion of Turkey will be the degradation of -the subject Christian races. It is, no doubt, a tremendous obstacle, but -there have been tremendous obstacles before now which have been cleared -by weaker people. - -I daresay I shall seem lunatic to you, sir, though I know it will not be -because you think the Christian faith is itself pretty well used up, and -ought to be thinking of getting itself carried out and buried decently, -instead of making new conquests. But if you had been living for a -fortnight on the Bosphorus, you could not help wishing well to the old -Turks any more than I, and I don’t believe you, any more than I, -could by any ingenuity find out what good to wish them, except speedy -conversion. With that all reforms will follow rapidly enough. - -If you are not thoroughly outraged by these later productions of mine I -will promise to avoid the Eastern question proper, and will try to -give you something more amusing next week. Meanwhile, believe me ever -faithfully yours. - - - - -Athens, 1st October 1862. - -I am afraid, to judge by my own café, it is quite impossible to give -anything like a true idea of Constantinople to those who have never been -there; at any rate it would require a volume and not two columns to do -it, but I can’t help trying to impart some of my own impressions to your -readers. Miles away in the Sea of Marmora you first catch sight of -the domes and minarets (like huge wax candles with graceful black -extinguishers on them) of the capital of the East. As you near the mouth -of the Bosphorus, on the European side lies the Seraglio Point with its -palaces, Sublime Porte, and public offices and gardens full of noble -cypresses. On the Asiatic side lies Scutari, the great hospital, with -the English cemetery and Marochetti’s monument in front of it, occupying -the highest and most conspicuous point. Midway between the two shores -is a rock called Leander’s rock, on which is a picturesque little -lighthouse. Passing this you turn short to the left round Seraglio -Point, and open at once the view of the whole city. The Golden Horn runs -right away in front of you, and on the promontory between it and the Sea -of Marmora lies the old town of Stamboul, crowned with the mosques of -St. Sophia and Sultan Achmet. A curious old wooden bridge, some five -hundred yards in length, crosses the Golden Horn and connects it with -Galata, a mass of custom-houses, barracks and offices, broken by a -handsome open square, at one end of which is the Sultan’s mosque. Behind -these the houses are piled up the steep hill side, and at the top stands -the striking old tower of Galata, from which you get the finest view of -Constantinople. Beyond comes Pera, the European quarter, where are the -Embassies and Missouri’s Hotel. Of course a vast city lining such -a harbour and strait as the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus must be -beautiful, but there is something very peculiar in the beauty of -Constantinople, which the splendid site alone will not account for. I -tried hard to satisfy myself what it was, and believe that it lies in -the wonderful colouring of the place. The mosques are splendid, but -not so fine as many Gothic churches, and the houses in general are far -inferior to those of most other capitals; and yet, seen in the mass, -they are strikingly beautiful, for those which are not of wood are -almost all covered with boarding, which is stained or painted in many -different colours. Many of them are a deep russet brown, others slate -gray, or blue, or deep yellow, some pale green with the windows picked -out in red. The colours are not fresh, but toned down. Then very many -of the houses have court-yards, or small gardens, and you get the fresh -foliage of orange-trees, and figs, and cypresses, as a further contrast, -and for flooring and ceiling the blue of the Bosphorus water and of the -cloudless Eastern sky. The moment you get into the wretched, narrow, -unpaved streets, the charm goes; but while you keep to the great high -street of the Bosphorus, I don’t believe there is any such treat in -the world for the lover of colour. And the shape of the houses, too, is -picturesque: as a rule they have flat roofs and deep overhanging eaves, -and rows of many windows with open Venetian shutters. As we have no time -to spare, we will not attempt the town, but stick to the high street. - -There are three accepted ways of passing up and down the Bosphorus. -There is the common market-boat of the country--a huge, lumbering, -fiat-bottomed affair, about the size of a Thames lighter, but with high -bows and stern. It is propelled by six or eight boatmen, each pulling a -huge oar some eighteen feet long. They pull a long, steady stroke, each -man stepping up on to the thwart in front of him at the beginning of his -stroke, and throwing himself back till his weight has dragged his oar -through, and he finds himself back on his own seat, from which he at -once springs up and steps forward again for a fresh stroke. It must be -splendid training exercise, and they make a steady four miles an -hour against the stream;--no bad pace, for the boats are loaded with -fruit-baskets and packages and passengers--the veiled women sitting in -a group apart in the stern. Then there are the steamers, which ply every -hour up and down, the express boats touching at one or two principal -piers, and doing the twelve miles from the bridge at Stamboul to -Bajukdere in an hour and a quarter, the others stopping at every pier, -and taking two hours or more. They are Government boats, for passengers -only, and the fares are somewhat higher than those of our Thames -steamers. They have a long glazed cabin on the after-deck for the -first-class male passengers, and a small portion screened off further -aft, where the veiled women are crowded together. Until lately, all -women were accustomed to travel behind this screen, but the unveiled are -beginning to break the rule, and to intrude into the cabin of the lords -of creation. You see the Turks lift their eyebrows slightly as women in -crinoline squeeze by them and take their seats, but it is too late for -any further demonstration. An awning is spread over the whole deck, -cabin and all, and under it the passengers, who are too late to get -seats in the cabin, sit about on small low stools. Such a _colluvies -gentium_ and Babel of tongues no man can see or hear anywhere else I -should think. By your side, perhaps, sits a scrupulously clean old Turk, -with his legs tucked up under him and his slippers on the floor beneath. -He has the vacant hopeless look of an opium-eater, and you see him take -out his little box from his belt, and feel with nervous fingers how -large a pellet he may venture on in consideration of the bad company he -is in. On the other side an English sailor boy, delighted to be able to -talk broad Durham to somebody, is telling you how he has been down to -the bazaars and has bought a “hooble booble,” and a bottle of attar of -roses for the folk at home, and speculating how they would give £5, he -knows, at Sunderland, to see one of those women who look as if they were -done up in grave-clothes. Opposite you have a couple of silky-haired -Persians, with their long soft eyes and clear olive skins, high -head-dresses and sombre robes, and all about a motley crowd of Turks, -Circassians, and Greeks, Europeans with muslin round their wideawakes, -Maltese, English, and French skippers, soldiers in coarse zouave -and other uniforms, most of them smoking, and the waiters (Italians -generally), edging about amongst them all with little brazen -coffee-trays. An artist wishing to draw the heads of all nations could -find no richer field, and in the pursuit of his art would not of course -object to the crush and heat and odour; but as we are more bent on -comfort, we will go up the Bosphorus in the third conveyance indicated -above, a caique--and a more fascinating one can scarcely be conceived. -You may have your caique of any size, from one pair of sculls up to the -splendid twelve-oared state affairs of ambassadors and pashas; but that -with three caiquejees or rowers seems to be the most in use amongst the -rich folk, so we can scarcely do wrong in selecting it. - -Our three-manned caique shall belong to an English merchant, the happy -owner of a summer villa at Therapia or Bajukdere. He shall be waiting -for us, and shall board the steamer as it drops anchor opposite Seraglio -Point. While our portmanteau is being fished up from the hold, we have -time to examine critically his turn-out. The caique is about the size -of an old-fashioned four-oar, but more strongly built, with a high sharp -bow and a capital flat floor, and lies on the water as lightly as a wild -duck. The caiquejees’ seats are well forward. The stern is decked for -some eight feet, and in this deck is a hole, so that you can stow your -luggage away underneath. When the ladies use the caique, their _cavass_, -with his red fez, blue braided coat and scimitar, sits grimly with his -legs in the hole and gives their orders to the caiquejees. Comfortable -cushions lying on a small Turkey carpet, between the little deck and -the stretcher of the stroke oar, in the roomiest part of the boat, await -you. You will lounge on them with your shoulders against the deck, a -white umbrella over your head, and a cigarette in your mouth. In the -climate of the Bosphorus, cigarettes of Turkish tobacco supersede all -other forms of the weed. The caiquejees are wiry, bronzed Turks; their -costume, the red fez, a loose coloured jacket, generally blue, which -they strip off for work, and appear in Broussa shirts of camels’ hair -fitting to the body, with loose sleeves reaching only to the elbow, and -baggy white cotton drawers tied at the knee. The stroke wears stockings, -which the others dispense with; each of them keeps his slippers under -his own seat. They each pull a pair of straight sculls fastened to -a single thole pin by a greased thong. You follow your friend and -portmanteau down the gangway and start, and are at once delighted at the -skill with which your crew steer through the crowds of Maltese boats -and caiques, and under great steamers and merchant ships, and fall into -their regular stroke, twenty-eight to the minute, which they never vary -for the whole twelve miles. Their form, too, is all that can be desired, -and would not discredit a London waterman. Turning up the Bosphorus you -soon lose sight of the Golden Horn, and the old rickety bridge which -spans it from Stamboul to Galata. You pull away at first under the -European shore, past the magnificent palace of the present Sultan, -gleaming white in the sun; and then come other huge piles, some tumbling -to pieces, some used as barracks, and private houses of all sizes -and colours, in their little gardens, and warehouses, coffee-shops, -cemeteries, fruit-markets and mosques. Not a yard of the bank but is -occupied with buildings, and the houses are piled far up the hillside -behind. It is the same on the Asiatic side, except that there the houses -next to the water are chiefly those of the rich Turks, as you may guess -from the carefully barred and jalousied windows of the harems, and that -the line of houses is not so deep. And so on for five miles you glide -up the strait, half a mile or more wide, alive with small boats moving -about, and men-of-war steamers riding at anchor, through one continuous -street. Then comes the narrowest part, where the current runs like a -mill-tail against you. On the European side stand the three towers, -connected with battlemented walls, built by Mahomed’s orders in the -winter before the taking of Stamboul and the extinction of the Western -Empire. Roumelie Hissa the point is called now, and behind it rises the -highest hill on the Bosphorus. If it is not too hot, your friend will -land and walk up with you, and when you have reached the top you will -see Olympus and the distant Nicomedian mountains over the Sea of Marmora -to the south, and the whole line of the Bosphorus below you, and the -Giants’ Mountain and the Black Sea away to the north. Behind you lie -wild moorlands, covered with heather and gum cistus, and arbutus bushes, -and a small oak shrub. Here and there in the hollows are small patches -of vines and other culture, with occasional clumps of stone pine and -Scotch fir, and chestnut and beech, amongst which scanty herds of -buffaloes and goats wander, watched by melancholy, truculent-looking -herdsmen, in great yellow capotes and belts, from which a brace of long, -old-fashioned pistols and the hilt of a long straight dagger stick out. -But, desolate as the European side is, it is a garden compared to the -Asiatic. You look across there, and behind the little bright belt of -life along the Bosphorus, there is nothing between you and the horizon -but desert heathery hills, running away as far as the eye can reach, -without a house, a tree, a beast, or the slightest sign of life upon -them. I scarcely ever saw so lovely a view, and it is thrown out into -the most vivid contrast by the life at your feet. You descend to your -caique again, and now are aware of a towing-path which runs at intervals -along in front of the houses. A lot of somewhat wretched-looking Turks -here wait with ropes to tow the caiques and other boats up the rapids. -Your stroke catches the end of the rope, and fastens it, exclaiming, -“_Haidee babai_” (so it sounds), “Push on, my fathers; push on, my -lambs”; and two little Turks, passing the rope over their shoulders, -toil away for some hundred yards, when they are dismissed with a minute -backsheesh. And now the Bosphorus widens out: on the Asiatic side comes -the valley of the Sweet Waters of Asia, and the new kiosk of the Sultan, -which I spoke of before, and afterwards only occasional villages and the -palaces of one or two great pashas. On the European side the houses are -still in continuous line, but begin to get more elbow-room, and only in -the little creeks, where the villages lie, are the hillsides much -built on. Now you begin to see the summer villas of the Europeans, -and accordingly an esplanade faced with stone, and broad enough for -carriages to pass, begins. This upper part of the Bosphorus has its own -charm. The water is rougher, as there is generally a breeze from the -Black Sea; and porpoises roll about, and flocks of sea-swallows (âmes -damnées) flit for ever over the little restless waves. The banks between -the houses and the wild common land of the hill tops are now often taken -into the gardens and cultivated in terraces; and where this is not so -they are clothed with fine Scotch fir and stone pine, and avenues of -cypress of the height of forest trees, with magnificent old gray trunks, -marking where paths run up the hillside or standing up alone like sombre -sentinels. It is not until you get almost to Therapia that there is -any break in the row of houses. Therapia, where Medea is said to have -prepared her potions, is a Greek village, built round a little bay, -the busiest and almost the prettiest place on the Bosphorus. There -are always half a dozen merchantmen lying there, and a sprinkling of -European sailors appear amongst the fezzes frequenting the quays formed -by the esplanade, and there is a café restaurant, and a grog shop, -where the British sailor can be refreshed with the strong liquors of his -country. Behind the village is the little cemetery of the Naval Brigade, -sadly neglected and overshadowed with beech and chestnut trees, -where Captain Lyons and many another fine fellow lie, to whom their -countrywomen have raised a large, simple white marble cross, which -stands up mournfully amongst the tangled grass which creeps over the -rows of nameless graves. One grieves that it is shoved away out of sight -of the Bosphorus, up which the brave fellows all went with such stout -hearts. - -You pass more handsome villas and the summer residences of the English -and French ambassadors just above Therapia, and then comes the Bay of -Bajukdere, the broadest part of the Bosphorus, with the village of the -same name on its north shore, the last and handsomest of the suburbs -of Constantinople, where are the other embassies and the palaces of the -richest merchants. It was the place where Godfrey of Bouillon encamped -with his Crusaders. Beyond, the strait narrows again, and runs between -steep cliffs with a sharp turn into the Black Sea, and close to the -mouth are the storm-lashed Symplegades. - -You must fill up the picture with ships of all sorts under the flags of -all the nations of the earth passing up and down, and people the banks -with figures in all the quaint and picturesque costumes of the East; -but no effort of imagination, I fear, can realise the frame in which the -whole is set, the water of the Bosphorus, and the unfathomable Eastern -sky. I never had an idea of real depth before. I doubt if it be possible -to imagine it. I am sure it is impossible to forget it. - - - - -Athens, 4th October 1862. - -We left Constantinople for the Piraeus in a French packet. The sun set -behind Pera just before we started, and at the same moment a priest came -out into the little balcony which runs round each dizzy minaret some -three parts of the way up, and called the faithful to prayer. The poor -faithful! summoned there still at sunrise and sunset to turn towards -Mecca, and fall down before Him who gave that great city, and the fair -European countries behind it, to their fathers:--they must pray and work -hard too if they mean to stay there much longer. We steamed slowly out -from the Golden Horn, round Seraglio Point, and into night on the Sea of -Marmora. I was up early the next morning, and saw the sun rise over the -islands just as we were entering the Dardanelles. We stopped between -Lesbos and Abydos to take in cargo, time enough to charter one of the -fruit boats and pull off for a good swim in that romantic water. By ten -o’clock we were opening the Ægean Sea, with the road close under our -larboard bow and Tenedos in front of us. We saw the mounds on the shore, -known as the tombs of Achilles and Ajax, and so passed on wondering. -There were half a dozen young Englishmen on board, carrying amongst them -a Homer, a _Childe Harold_, and other classics. We had much debate as -we passed point after point as to the possible localities, but I am not -sure that we came to any conclusions which are worth repeating. About -noon, after we had become familiar with island after island, well -remembered as names from school and college days, but now living -realities, a faint peak was discovered in the far north-west. What could -it be? We applied to an officer, and found it was Athos. You may fancy -what the atmosphere was, sir, for Athos must have been at least sixty -miles from us at the time. - -Night came on before any of us were tired of the Ægean. Next morning -at daybreak we were off the southern point of Euboea, with the coast -of Attica in sight over the bows. By breakfast-time we were rounding -Sunium, with the fair columns of a temple crowning the height, the -bay of Salamis before us, and “Morea’s Hills” for a background; and -presently the cliffs on the Attic coast gave way to low ground, and one -of our company, who had been in these parts before, startled us with -“There is the Acropolis!” “Where?” Operaglasses were handed about, and -eager looks cast over the plain, till we were aware of a little rocky -hill rising up some three miles from the shore, and a town lying round -the foot of it. The buildings of the town gleamed white enough in the -sun, but the ruins on the Acropolis we could scarcely make out. They -were of a deep yellow, not easily distinguishable on this side, and -at this distance from the rock below. The first sensation was one of -disappointment--we were all candid enough to admit it. We had seen -barren coasts enough, but none so bare as this of Attica. Hymettus lay -on the right, and Pentelicus further away on the north, behind Athens -and the Acropolis; and from their feet right down to the Piraeus, no -tree or shrub or sign of cultivation was visible, except a strip of -sombre green, a mile or so broad, which ran along the middle of the -plain marking the course of the Ilyssus. In the early spring and summer -they do get crops off portions of the plain, but by the end of September -it is as dry, dusty, and bare as the road to Epsom Downs on a Derby Day. - -The little arid amphitheatre, not larger than a moderatesized English -county, with its capital and Acropolis, looked so insignificant, and -but for the bright sunshine would have been so dreary, that to keep from -turning away and not taking a second look at it, one was obliged to keep -mentally repeating, “It is Attica, after all!” Matters improved a little -as we got nearer, and before the Acropolis was hidden from our view by -the steep little hill crowned with windmills which rises up between -the Piraeus and Munychia, we could clearly make out the shape of the -Parthenon, and confessed that the rock on which it stood was for its -size a remarkable one, and in a commanding position. - -You see nothing of the Piraeus till you round this hill and open the -mouth of the harbour, narrowed to this day by the old Athenian moles, so -that there is scarcely room for two large vessels to pass in it. It is -a lively little harbour enough. Three men-of-war, English, French, and -Greek, were lying there when we entered, and an Austrian Lloyd steamer -and a dozen or two merchantmen. We were surrounded by dozens of boats, -the boatmen dressed in the white cotton petticoats and long red fezzes, -not mere scull-caps like those of the Turks--a picturesque dress enough, -but not to be named for convenience or beauty with that of the Bosphorus -boatmen. - -Most of our party started at once for Athens, but I and a companion, -resolved on enjoying the Mediterranean as long as we could, crossed the -hill, and descended to the Munychia for a bath, which we achieved in the -saltest and most buoyant water I have ever been in. The rocks (volcanic, -apparently), on which we dressed and were nearly grilled, were all -covered with incrustations of salt, looking as if there had been a -tremendous frost the night before. After our bath we strolled through -the little port town, hugely amused with the Greek inscriptions over -the shop-doors, and with the lively, somewhat rowdy look and ways of the -place; and, resisting the solicitations of many of the dustiest kind of -cab-drivers, who were hanging about with their vehicles on the look-out -for a fare to Athens, struck across the low marsh land, where the -Ilissus must run when he can find any water to bring down from the -hills, and were soon in amongst the olive groves. Here we were delivered -from the dust at any rate, and in a few minutes met a Greek with a -basket of grapes on his head, from whom, for half a franc, we purchased -six or seven magnificent bunches, and went on our way mightily -refreshed. We had made up our minds to be disappointed with the place, -and so were not sorry to be out of sight of it, and the olive groves -were quite new to us. Some of the old trees were very striking. They -were quite hollow, but bearing crops of fruit still quite merrily, as if -it were all right, and what was left of the trunk was all divided into -grisly old fretwork, as if each root had just run up independently into -a branch, and had never really formed part of the tree. They looked as -if they might be any age--could Plato have sat or walked under some of -them? - -Vines grow under the olives, just as currant and gooseberry bushes -under the fruit-trees in our market gardens. They were loaded with fine -grapes, and the vintage was going lazily on here and there. There were -pomegranates too scattered about, the fruit splitting with ripeness. It -was tremendously hot, but the air so light and fresh that walking was -very pleasant. Presently we came to an open space, and caught a glimpse -of the Acropolis; and now that we were getting round to the front of it, -and could catch the outline of the Parthenon against the sky, it began -to occur to us that we had been somewhat too hasty. - -In among the olive groves again, and then out on another and another -opening, till at last, when we came upon the _Via sacra_, we could -stand it no longer. The ruins had become so beautiful, and had such an -attraction, that giving up the grove of the Academy and Colonus, which -were not half a mile ahead of us, and which we had meant to visit, we -turned short to the right, and walked straight for the town at a pace -which excited the laughter of merry groups dawdling round the little -sheds where the winepresses were working. The town through which we had -to pass is ugly, dusty, and glaring. There are one or two broad streets, -with locust-trees planted along the sides of them, but not old enough -yet to give shade; and in the place before the palace, on which our -hotel looked, there are a few shrubs and plenty of prickly pears, -which seem to be popular with the Athenians, and are the most misshapen -hot-looking affairs which I have yet met with in the vegetable world. -But shade, shade--one longs for it, and there is none; and the glare and -heat are almost too much, even at the beginning of October--in summer -it must be unendurable. If the Athenians would only take one leaf out of -the book of their old enemies, and stain and paint their houses as the -Turks of the Bosphorus do! But though the houses are as ugly as those of -a London suburb, and there are no tolerable public buildings except -one church, the modern town is a very remarkable one, when one comes -to remember that thirty years ago there were only ten or twelve hovels -here. But you may suppose that one scarcely looks at or thinks of the -modern town; but pushing straight through it, makes for the Acropolis. A -fine broad carriage-road runs round the back of the hill, and so up with -a long sweep to the bottom of the western face, the one which we had -seen from the olive groves. You can manage to pass the stadium and the -columns of Jupiter on your left, as you ascend, without diverging, but -even to reach the Parthenon you cannot go by the theatre of Dionysus, -lying on your right against the northern face of the Acropolis, without -stopping. They are excavating and clearing away the rubbish every day -from new lines of seats; you can trace tier above tier now, right up the -face of the hill, till you get to precipitous cliff; and down below, in -the dress circle, the * marble seats are almost as fresh as the day they -were made; and most comfortable stalls they are, though uncushioned, -with the rank of their old occupants still fresh on them. You could -take your choice and sit in the stall of a [Greek phrase] as you fancied. -Below was the actual stage on which the tragedies of Sophocles and -Æschylus were played to audiences who understood even the toughest -chorus; and, for a background, Hymettus across the plain, and the sea -and islands! We passed yet another theatre as we went up the hill, but -nothing now could turn us from the Parthenon, and certainly it very far -exceeded anything I had ever dreamt of. Every one is familiar with -the shape and position and colour of the ruins from photographs and -paintings. We look at them and admire, and suppose they grew there, or -at any rate scarcely give a thought to how they did get there. - -But I’ll defy any man to walk up the Propylæa and about the Parthenon -without being struck with wonder at the simple question, how it all got -there. Can the stories we have all been taught be true? Leaving beauty -altogether out of the question, here you are in the midst of the wreck -of one of the largest buildings you ever were in. You see that it was -built of blocks of white marble; that the columns are formed of these -blocks, each some four feet high, and so beautifully fitted together -that at the distance of two thousand years you very often cannot find -the joints, except where the marble is chipped. You see that the whole -of this building was originally surrounded by most elaborate sculpture; -you see that the whole side of the hill up which you approach the -great temple was converted into a magnificent broad staircase of white -marble--in short, you see probably the greatest architectural feat that -has ever been done in the world, and are told that it was done by a -small tribe--not more numerous than the population of a big English -town--who lived in that little barren corner of earth which you can -overlook from end to end from your standing-place, in the lifetime of -one generation; that Pericles thought the idea out, and the Athenians -quarried the marble, carried it up there, carved it, and built it up, in -his lifetime. Well, it _is_ hard to believe; but when one has sat down -on one of the great blocks, and looked over Salamis and Ægina, and the -Isthmus of Corinth, and then down at the groves of the Academy and -the Pynx and the Areopagus, and remembered that at this very time the -thoughts, and methods of thought, of that same small tribe are still -living, and moulding the minds of all the most civilised and powerful -nations of the earth, the physical wonder, as usual, dwarfs and gives -way before the spiritual. We saw the sunset, of course, from the front -of the Parthenon, and then descended to the Areopagus, and stood on, -or at any rate within a few feet of, the place where the glorious old -Hebrew of the Hebrews stood, and looking up at those marvellous temples -made by man, spoke a strange story in the ears of the crowd, whose only -pleasure was to hear or tell some new thing. It is the only place where -I have ever come in my journeyings right across the Scripture narrative, -and certainly the story shines out with new light after one has stood on -the very rock, and felt how the scene before Paul’s eyes must have moved -him. - -We got to our inn after dark, and after dining went to a Greek play. -Theatre and acting both decidedly second-rate, the audience consisting -chiefly of officers--smart-looking young fellows enough. There were two -murders in the first act, but I regret to say that we could none of us -make out the story of the play. There were half a dozen young men, all -with good brains, none of whom had left our Universities more than two -years, at which the Greek language is all but the most prominent -study, and yet they might as well have been hearing Arabic. As for -myself--unluckily my ear is so bad that I can never catch words which -are not familiar to me--on this occasion, indeed, I could almost have -sworn the actors were using French words. But it really is a pity that -we can’t take to the modern Greek pronunciation in England. One goes -into Athens, and can read all the notices and signs, and even spell -through a column of newspaper with a little trouble, and yet, though one -would give one’s ears to be able to talk, cannot understand a word, -or make oneself understood. We managed, however, to get a clear enough -notion that something serious was going to happen; and from several -persons, French, Italian, and Greek, learned positively that Prince -Alfred was to be King of Greece shortly, which remarkable proposition -has since spread widely over the world. We sailed from Athens, after -a two days’ stay, in an Austrian Lloyd boat. The sailors were all -Italians, and there were certainly not much more than half the number -which we found on the French boat from Constantinople. And yet the -Austrian Lloyd Company has not lost a boat since it was a company, and -the Messageries Impériales have done nothing but lose theirs. Happily, -the French are not natural sailors, or there would be no peace on sea or -land. - - - - -The Run Home, October 1862. - -We ran from Athens to Syra through the islands, in a bright moonlight, -and half a gale of wind, the most enjoyable combination of circumstances -in the world for those who are not given to sea-sickness. The island is -a rock almost as bare as Hymettus, and that is the most barren simile I -can think of--any hill in the Highlands would look like a garden beside -it. But it has a first-rate small harbour, which has become the central -packet-station of the Levant; and the town which has sprung up round -the harbour is the most stirring place in the East, and the commercial -capital of Greece. A very quaint place to look at, too, is Syra, for -at the back of the lower town, which lies round the harbour, rises a -conical hill, very steep, right up to the top of which a second town is -piled, with the Bishop’s palace on the highest point. This second, or -pyramidal, town is built on terraces, and is only accessible to foot -passengers, who ascend by a broad stone staircase, running from the -lower town up to the Bishop’s palace, and so bisecting the pyramid. -As restless a place as ever I was in, in which nothing seems to be -produced, but everything in the world exchanged--a very temple of -the Trade Goddess, of whom I should say there are few more devout or -successful worshippers than the Greeks. Here we waited through a long -broiling day for the steamer, which was to take us westward--homewards. - -In travelling there is only one pleasure which can be named with the -start--that luxurious moment when one unstrings the bow, and leaving -one’s common pursuits and everyday life, plunges into new scenes--and -that is, the turning home. I had never been so far or so long away from -England before, so that the sensation was proportionately keen as -we settled into our places in the _Pluto_, one of the finest of the -Austrian Lloyd boats, which was to take us to Trieste. And a glorious -run we made of it. In the morning we were off the Lacedaemonian coast. -Almost as bare, this home of the Spartans, as that of their old rivals -in Attica; in fact, all the south of the Peloponnesus is barren rock. We -might almost have thrown a stone on to Cape Matapan as we passed. Above, -the western coast soon begins to change its character, and scanty pine -forests on the mountains, and not unfrequent villages, with more or less -of cultivated land round them, are visible. Towards evening we steam -past the entrance of Navarino Bay, scarcely wider than that of Dartmouth -harbour, but with room inside for four modern fleets to ride and fight; -as likely a place for a corsair to haunt and swoop out of, in old days, -as you could wish to see. Night fell, and we missed the entrance to the -Gulf of Corinth; and Ithaca, alas! was also out of sight astern before -we were on deck again. But we could not complain; the Albanian coast, -under which we were running, was too beautiful to allow us a moment for -regret--mountains as wild and barren, and twice as high, as those of -Southern Greece, streaked with rich valleys, and well-clothed lower -hills. By midday we were ashore at Corfu, driving through the old -Venetian streets, and on, over English macadamised roads, through olive -groves finer than those of Attica, up to the one-gun battery--the finest -view in the fairest island of the world. Bathing, and lunching, and all -but letting the steamer go on without us! Steaming away northward again, -leaving the shade of the union-jack under which we had revelled for a -few hours, and the delightful sound of the vernacular in the mouth of -the British soldiers, for a twenty-four hours’ run up the Adriatic, and -into Trieste harbour, just in time to baulk a fierce little storm which -came tearing down from the Alps to meet us. - -Trieste is the best paved town I was ever in, and otherwise internally -attractive, while in the immediate neighbourhood, on the spurs of the -great mountains and along the Adriatic shore, are matchless sites for -country houses, and many most fascinating houses on them. For choice, -the situation, to my mind, even beats the celebrated hills round Turin, -for the view of the Adriatic turns the scale in favour of the former. -But neither city nor neighbourhood held us, and we hurried on to Venice -by rail, with the sea on our left, and the great Alpine range on our -right--now close over us, now retiring--the giant peaks looking dreamily -down on us through a hot shadowy haze all the day long. Poor Venice! we -lingered there a few days amidst pictures and frescoes and marbles; at -night drinking our coffee in the Place of St. Mark, on the Italian -side, watching the white and blue uniforms on the other, and hearing the -Austrian military band play, or gliding in a gondola along the moonlit -grand canal. English speculators are getting a finger in house property -at Venice. There were placards up in English on a dozen of the palaces, -“To be let or sold,” with the direction of the vendors below. What does -this portend? Let us hope not restoration on Camberwell or Pentonville -principles of art. - -Then we sped westward again, getting an hour in the Giotto chapel -at Padua, a long day at Verona, amongst Roman ruins and Austrian -fortifications, and the grand churches, houses, and tombs of the -Scaligers. Over the frontier, then, into Italy. ‘While the Austrian -officials diligently searched baggage and spelt out passports, I -consoled myself with getting to a point close to the station, pointed -out by a railway guard, and taking a long look at the heights of -Solferino and the high tower--the watch-tower of Italy, a mile or two -away to the south. To Milan, through mulberries and vines--rich beyond -all fancy; the country looked as we passed as if peace and plenty had -set up their tent there. But little enough of either was there in the -people’s homes. The news of Garibaldi’s capture and wound was stirring -men’s minds fearfully; and all the cotton mills, too, of which there -are a good number scattered about, were just closing; wages, already -fearfully low, were falling in other trades. I came across a Lancashire -foreman, who had escaped the day before from the mill in which he had -been employed for five years, and only just escaped with his life. -Sixteen men had been stabbed and carried to the hospitals in the closing -row. He was making the best of his way back. “What was the state of -things in Lancashire to what he had just got out of,” he answered, when -I spoke of our distress. “He had been standing for three hours and more -in a dark corner, with two men within a few feet of him waiting to stab -him.” I rejoice to say that in the streets of Milan we saw everywhere -unmistakable signs that Italy is beginning to appreciate her faithful -ally. Some of the best political caricatures were as good as could -be--as Doyle’s or Leech’s--and bitter as distilled gall. At Turin we -had time to see the monuments of the two Queens, the mother and wife -of Victor Emmanuel, in a little out-of-the-way Church of Our Lady -of Consolation, where they used constantly to worship in life; their -statues are kneeling side by side in white marble--as touching a -monument as I have ever seen. Murray does not mention it (his last -edition was out before it was put up), so some stray reader of yours -may perhaps thank me for the hint. Over the Mount Cenis, and down into -Savoy, past the mouth of the tunnel which, in six years or so, is to -take us under the Alps to the lovely little town of St. Michael, where -the rail begins, we went, pitying the stout king from whom so beautiful -a birthplace had been filched by the arch robber; and so day and night -to Paris; and, after a day’s breathing, a drive along the trim -new promenades of the Bois de Boulogne, and a look round the -ever-multiplying new streets of the capital of cookery and gilded -mirrors, in ten hours to London. - -Poor dear old London! groaning under the last days of the Great -Exhibition. After those bright, brave, foreign towns, how dingy, how -unkempt and uncared for thou didst look! From London Bridge station we -passed through a mile and a half of the most hideous part of Southwark -to the west. Even in the west, London was out at elbows, the roads used -up, the horses used up; the omnibus coachmen and cads,--the cabbies, the -police, the public, all in an unmistakable state of chronic seediness -and general debility. In spic-and-span Paris yesterday, and here to-day! -Well, one could take thee a thought cleaner and more cheerful, and be -thankful, Old London; but after all, as we plunge into thy fog and reek -and roar, and settle into our working clothes again, we are surer than -ever of one thing, which must reconcile any man worth his salt to making -thee his home,--thou art unmistakably the very heart of the old world. - - - - -Dieppe, Sunday, 13th September 1863. - -I have just come away from hearing a very remarkable sermon at the -Protestant church here, of which I should like to give you some idea -before it goes out of my head. The preacher was a M. Bevel, a native of -Dieppe, now a minister at Amsterdam, where he has a high reputation. He -is here visiting his mother, which visit I should say is likely to be -cut short if he goes on preaching such sermons as he gave us to-day, or -else a liberty is allowed in the pulpit in France which is not to be -had elsewhere. The service began with a hymn. Then a layman read out -the Commandments at a desk. Then we sang part of Psalm xxv.; one of the -verses ran: - - Qui craint Dieu, qui veut bien, - - Jamais ne s’égarera, - - Car au chemin qu’il doit suivre - - Dieu même le conduira-- - - À son aise et sans ennui - - Il verra le plus long âge, - - Et ses enfans après lui - - Auront la terre en partage. - -Good healthy doctrine this, and an apt introduction to the sermon. While -we were singing, M. Revel mounted the pulpit. He is a man of thirty-five -or thereabouts; middlesized, bald, dark; with a broad brow, large -gray eyes, and sharp, well-cut features. After two short extempore -prayers--almost the only ones I have ever heard in which there was -nothing offensive--he began his sermon on a text in Ecclesiastes. As it -had little bearing on the argument, and was never alluded to again, I do -not repeat it. - -“There is much talk,” M. Revel began, “in our day about an order of -nature. All acknowledge it; as science advances it is found more and -more to be unchangeable. We ought to rejoice in this unchangeableness -of the order of nature, for it is a proof of the existence of a God -of order. Had we found the earth all in confusion it would have been a -proof that there could be no such God. But this God has established -a moral order for man as unchangeable as the order of nature. It was -recognised by the heathen who worshipped Nemesis. The whole of history -is one long witness to this moral order, but we need not go back far for -examples. Look at Poland, partitioned by three great monarchs, and at -what is happening and will happen there. Look at America, the land of -equality, of freedom, of boundless plenty, and what has come on her for -the one great sin of slavery. Look at home, at the story of the great -man who ruled France at the beginning of our new era, the man of -success--‘_qui éblouissait lui-même en éblouissant les autres_,’ who -answered by victory upon victory those who maintained that principle had -still something to say to the government of the world, and remember his -end on the rock in mid-ocean. - -“Be sure, then, that there is an unchangeable moral order, and this -is the first law of it, ‘_Qui fait du mal fait du malheur_.’ The most -noticeable fact in connection with this moral order which our time is -bringing out is the _solidarité_ of the human race. The _solidarité_ of -the family and the nation was recognised in old times. Now, commerce and -intercourse are breaking down the barriers of nations. A rebellion in -China, a war in America, is felt at once in France, and the full truth -is dawning upon us that nothing but a universal brotherhood will satisfy -men. But you may say that punishment follows misdoing so slowly that the -moral order is virtually set aside. Do not believe it. ‘_Qui fait du -mal fait du malheur_.’ The law is certain; but if punishment followed -at once, and fully, on misdoing, mankind would be degraded. On the other -hand, ‘_Qui fait du bon fait du bonheur_,’ and this law is equally fixed -and unchangeable in the moral order of the world. - -“You may wonder that I have scarcely used the name of Christ to you -to-day; but what need? I have spoken of humanity; He is the Son of Man, -of a universal brotherhood which has no existence without Him, of which -He is the founder and the head.” - -As we came out of church it was amusing to hear the comments of -the audience, at least of the English portion. Some called it rank -Socialism, others paganism, others good sound Christian teaching; but -all seemed to agree that it was very stirring stuff, and that this -would be the last time that M. Bevel would be allowed to address his old -fellow-townsmen from the pulpit. Indeed, his sketch of Napoleon I. was -much too true to be acceptable to Napoleon III., and though his doctrine -of universal brotherhood may be overlooked, I should scarcely think that -his historical views can be. I was utterly astonished myself to hear -such a sermon in a French pulpit. I had never heard M. Bevel before; but -his reputation, which seems to be very great, is thoroughly deserved. -The sermon of which I have tried to give you a skeleton lasted for fifty -minutes, and never flagged for a moment. Sometimes he was familiar and -colloquial, sometimes impassioned, sometimes argumentative, but always -eloquent. He spoke with his whole body as well as with his voice, which -last organ was managed with rare skill; and, indeed, every faculty of -the man was thoroughly trained for his work, and so well trained, that -notwithstanding my English dislike to action or oratory in a pulpit, I -never felt that it was overdone or in bad taste. In short, I never heard -such scientific preaching, and came away disabused of the notion that -extempore sermons must be either flat, or vulgar, or insincere. I only -wish our young parsons would take the same pains in cultivating their -natural gifts as M. Revel has done, and hope that any of them who may -chance to read this will take an opportunity the next time they are at -Amsterdam of going to hear M. Revel, and taking a lesson. I have been -trying to satisfy myself for the last three days what it is which makes -this town so wonderfully different from any English provincial town of -the same size. I do not mean the watering-place end of it next the sea, -which is composed of the crystal palace known as the _établissement des -bains_, great hotels, and expensive lodging-houses,--this quarter -is inhabited by strangers of all nations, and should be compared to -Brighton or Scarborough,--but the quiet old town behind, which has -nothing in common with the watering-place, and is as hum-drum a place -as Peterborough. As far as I can make out, the difference lies in the -enjoyment which these Dieppois seem to take in their daily business. We -are called a nation of shopkeepers now by all the world, so I suppose -there must be some truth in the nickname. But certainly the Englishman -does his shopkeeping with a very bad grace, and not the least as if he -liked it. He sits or stands at his counter with grim, anxious face, -and it requires an effort, after one has entered his trap and asked a -question as to any article, to retire without buying. The moment his -closing time comes, up go the shutters, and he clears out of the shop, -and takes himself off out of sight and hearing of it as fast as he can. -But here in Dieppe (and the rule holds good, I think, in all French -towns) the people seem really to delight in their shops, and by -preference to live in them, and in the slice of street in front of them, -rather than in any other place. In fact, the shops seem to be convenient -places opened to enable their owners to _causer_ with the greatest -possible number of their neighbours and other people, rather than places -for the receipt of custom and serious making of money. I doubt if any -man is a worse hand at shopping than I, and yet I can go boldly into any -shop here, and turn over the articles, and chaffer over them, and then -go out without buying, and yet feel that I have conferred a benefit -rather than otherwise on the proprietor of the establishment. And as to -closing time, there is no such thing. The only difference seems to be -that after a certain hour, if you choose to walk into a shop, you will -probably find yourself in a family party. No one turns off the gas until -he goes to bed, so as you loiter along you have the advantage of seeing -everything that is going on, and the inhabitants have what they clearly -hold to be an equivalent, the opportunity of looking at and talking -about you. The master of the shop sits at his ease, sometimes reading -his journal, sometimes still working at his trade in an easygoing way, -as if it were a pleasure to him, and chatting away as he works. His wife -is either working with her needle or casting up the accounts of the day, -but in either case is ready in a moment to look up and join in any -talk that may be going on. The younger branches of the family disport -themselves on the floor, or play dominoes on the counter, or flirt with -some neighbour of the opposite sex who has dropped in, in the further -corners. The pastrycooks’ seem favourite social haunts, and often you -will find two or three of the nearest shops deserted, and the inmates -gathered in a knot round the sleek, neatly-shaved citizens who preside -in spotless white caps, jackets, and aprons, over these temples of good -things. In short, the life of the Dieppe burgher is not cut into sharp -lengths as it would be with us, one of which is religiously set apart -for trade and nothing else. Business and pleasure seem with him to be -run together, and he surrounds the whole with a halo of small-talk -which seems to make life run off wonderfully easily and happily to him. -Whether his method of carrying on trade results in as good articles as -with us I cannot say, for the Dieppois is by no means guileless enough -to part with his wares cheap, so that I have had very little experience -of them. But certainly the general aspect of his daily life, so much -more easy, so much more social than that of his compeer in England, -has a good deal of fascination about it. On better acquaintance very -possibly the charm might disappear, but at first one is inclined -strongly to wish that we could take a leaf out of his book, and learn -to take things more easily. The wisdom which has learnt that there are -vastly few things in this world worth worrying about will, I fear, be a -long time in leavening the British nation. - -The people of Dieppe are a remarkably well-conducted and discreet -folk in every way--wonderfully so when one considers their close -neighbourhood to the richest and most fashionable crowd which frequents -any French watering-place. Of these, and their amusements, and habits, -and wonderful costumes in and out of the sea, I have no room to speak in -this letter. They are now gone, or fast going, and this is the time -for people of moderate means and quiet tastes, who wish to enjoy the -deliciously exciting air and pretty scenery of this very charming old -sea town, which furnished most of the ships for the invasion of England -eight hundred years ago, and will well repay the costs of a counter -invasion. Only let the English invader take care when he sets his foot -on the Norman shore, unless he thinks it worth while to be fleeced for -the honour and glory of being under the same roof with French dukes, -Russian princes, and English milords, to give a wide berth to the Hotel -Royal. I am happy to say I do not speak from personal experience, but -only give voice to the universal outcry against the extortion of this -huge hotel, the most fashionable in Dieppe. The last story is that -an English nobleman travelling with a courier, who arrived late one -evening, did not dine, and left early the next morning, had to pay a -bill of 75 francs for his entertainment. The bill must have been a work -of-high art. - -I hope in another letter to give you some notions of the watering-place -life, which is very quaint and amusing, and as unlike our seaside doings -as the old town is unlike our ordinary towns. - - - - -Bathing at Dieppe, 17th September 1863. - -That great work, the _Sartor Resartus_, should have contained a chapter -on bathing-dresses, and I have no doubt would have done so had the -author been a frequenter of French watering-places. Each of these--even -such a little place as Treport--has its _établissement des bains_, its -etiquettes and rules as to the dress and comportment of its bathing -populations; and Dieppe is the largest, and not the least quaint, of -them all. The _établissement_ here is a long glass and iron building -like the Crystal Palace, with a dome in the middle, under which there -are daily concerts and nightly balls; and a transept at each end, one -of which is a very good reading-room, while in the other a mild kind -of gambling goes on, under the form of a lottery, for smelling bottles, -clocks, and such like ware. I am told that the play here is by no means -so innocent as it looks, and that persons in search of investments for -spare cash can be accommodated to any amount, but to a stranger nothing -of this discloses itself. Between this building and the sea there runs a -handsome esplanade, the favourite promenade, and immediately underneath -are the rows of little portable canvas huts which serve as bathing -machines. The ladies bathe under one end of the esplanade, and the -gentlemen under the other, while the fashionable crowd leans over, -or sits by the low esplanade wall, inspecting the proceedings. -This contiguity is, no doubt, the cause of the wonderful toilets, -_spécialités des bains_, which fill the shops here, and are used by all -the ladies and many of the men. They consist of large loose trousers and -a jacket with skirts, made of fine flannel or serge, of all shades of -colour according to taste, and of waterproof bathing caps, all of which -garments are trimmed with blue, or pink, or red bows and streamers. Over -all the _baigneurs comme il faut_ throw a large cloak, also tastefully -trimmed. Thus habited the lady walks out of her hut attended by a maid, -to whom when she reaches the water’s edge she hands her cloak, and, -taking the hand of one of the male _baigneurs_, proceeds with such -plunges and dancings as she has a fancy for, and then returns to the -shore, is enveloped in her cloak by her maid, and re-enters her hut. -These male _baigneurs_ are a necessary accompaniment of the performance. -I have only heard of one case of resistance to the custom, which ended -comically enough. A young Englishman, well known in foreign society, was -here with his wife, who insisted on bathing, but vowed she would go into -the water with no man but her husband. He consented, and in due course -appeared on the ladies’ side with his pretty wife, in most discreet -apparel, went through the office of _baigneur_, and returned to his own -side. This raised a storm among the lady bathers, and the authorities -interfered. The next day the lady went to the gentlemen’s side; but this -was even more scandalous, and was also forbidden. The persecuted couple -then took; to bathing at six in the morning; but, alas! on the second -morning the esplanade was lined even at that untimely hour by young -Frenchmen, who, though by no means early risers, had made a point of -being out to assist at the bath of their eccentric friends, and as -these last did not appreciate the _éclat_ of performing alone for the -amusement of their friends, the lawless efforts of _ces Anglais_ came to -an end. In England, where dress for the water is not properly attended -to by either sex, one quite understands the rule of absolute separation; -but here, where every lady is accompanied by a man in any case, where -she is more covered than she is in a ballroom, and where all her -acquaintance are looking on, it does not occur to one why she should not -be accompanied by her husband. For, as on the land, here people are much -better known by their dress in the water than by anything else. A young -gentleman asked one of his partners whether she had seen him doing some -particular feat of swimming that morning; she answered that she had not -recognised him, to which he replied, “Oh! you may always know me by my -straw hat and red ribbon.” The separation here is certainly a farce, for -at sixty yards, as we know from our musketry instructors, you recognise -the features of the party; and the distance between the men and women -bathers is not so much. The rule is enforced, however, at any depth. A -brother and sister, both good swimmers, used to swim out and meet one -another at the boat which lies in the offing in case of accidents. But -this was stopped, as they talked together in English, which excited -doubts as to their relationship. I suppose it would be more improper for -girls and boys of marriageable age to swim together than to walk; but I -vow at this moment I cannot see why. - -You may fancy, sir, that in such a state of things as I have described, -good stories on the great bathing subject are rife. The last relates -to a beauty of European celebrity, who is known to be here and to be -bathing, but keeps herself in such strict privacy that scarcely a soul -has been able to get a look at her, even behind two thick veils. Had -she really wished to be unnoticed she could not have managed worse. The -mystery set all the female world which frequents the _établissement_ in -a tremor. They were like a knot of sportsmen when a stag of ten tines -has been seen in the next glen, or when a 30 lb. salmon has broken the -tackle of some cunning fisherman, and is known to lie below a certain -stone. Of course, they were sure that something dreadful must have -happened to her looks, which she who should be happy enough to catch her -bathing would detect. In spite of all, the beauty eluded them for some -time, but at last she has been stalked, and I am proud to say, sir, by a -sportswoman of our own country. By chance this lady was walking at eight -in the morning, when the tide was so low that no one was bathing. She -saw a figure dressed _en bourgeoise_ approaching the bathing-place, -apparently alone, but two women suspiciously like maids followed at a -respectful distance. It flashed across our countrywoman that this must -be the incognita; she followed. To her delight, the three turned to -the bathing-ground, and disappeared in two huts which had been placed -together apparently by accident. She took up a position a few yards from -the huts. After an agonising pause the door opened, and a head appeared, -which was instantly withdrawn, but now too late. The mystery was solved. -It was too late-to send maids to the _directeur_ of the baths to warn -off the spectator, and, moreover, useless, for she politely declined to -move, though there was nothing more to discover. The whole establishment -is ringing with the news that the beauty is _pale comme une morte_, and -the inference, of course, follows that paint has been forbidden. You -will also, sir, no doubt, be interested to know that she wears a red -rose on the top of her bathing-cap, which, having regard to her present -complexion, does not say much for her taste in the choice of colours. - -But if the water toilets here are fabulous, what shall I say of those on -the land? The colours, the textures, the infinite variety, and general -loudness of these bewilder the sight and baffle the pen of ordinary -mortals. The keenest rivalry is kept up amongst the fair frequenters -of the establishment. They sit by hundreds there working and casing of -afternoons, while the band plays from three to six, or sweeping about -on the esplanade; and in the evening are there again in ever new and -brighter colours. The _Dieppe Journal_ comments on the most striking -toilets. It noticed with commendation the purple velvet petticoats -of the ladies of a millionaire house; it glowed in describing the -“_toilette Écossaise_” of another rich Frenchwoman. An officer on -reading the announcement laid down the paper, and addressed a lady, his -neighbour, “Mais, madame, comment est que ça se fait?” He, worthy man, -had but one idea of the toilet in question, which he had gained from the -Highland regiments in the Crimea. I am happy to say, both for their own -sakes and their husbands and fathers, that the Englishwomen are by -far the most simply dressed. The men generally speaking are clad like -rational beings, but with many exceptions. I hear of a celebrity in gray -velvet knickerbockers and pink silk stockings, but have not seen him. A -man in a black velvet suit, and a red beard reaching his waist, has just -walked past, without apparently exciting wonder in any breast but that -of your contributor. - -Dieppe must be a paradise to the rising generation. The children share -all the amusements of their elders, and have also special entertainments -of their own, amongst which one notes specially two balls a week at the -establishment. The whole building is brilliantly lighted every evening, -and on these nights the space under the central dome is cleared of -chairs, and makes a splendid ballroom. Here the little folk assemble, -and go through the whole performance solemnly, just like their elders. -The raised permanent seats are occupied by mammas, nurses, governesses, -and the public. The girls sit round on the lowest seats, and the boys -gather in groups talking to them, or walking about in the centre. They -are of all nations, in all costumes--one boy in a red Garibaldian blouse -and belt I noted as the most dangerous flirt. There were common English -jackets and trousers, knickerbockers of many colours, and many little -blue French uniforms. There was no dancer older than fifteen, and some -certainly as young as seven. When the music began, the floor was at once -covered with couples, who danced quadrilles, waltzes, and a pretty dance -like the Schottische, to the tune of “When the green leaves come again.” - At the end of each dance the girls were handed to their chairs with bows -worthy of Beau Brummel. There were at least 200 grown folk looking -on, and a prettier sight I have seldom seen, for the children danced -beautifully for the most part. Should I like my children to be amongst -them? That is quite another affair. On the whole, I incline to agree -with the ladies with whom I went, that it would, perhaps, do boys good, -but must be utterly bad for the girls. I certainly never saw before so -self-possessed a set of young gentlemen as those in question, and doubt -if any one of them will ever feel shy in after-life. - -Last Sunday afternoon: again, we had a _fete des vacances_ for the -children. The _Gazette des Bains_ announced, “À deux heures, ascensions -grotesques, l’enlèvement du phoque; à deux heures et demie, distribution -de jouets et bonbons; à trois heures, course à ânes, montés par des -jockeys grosse-tête,”--a most piquant programme. Not to mention the -other attractions, what could the _enlèvement du phoque_ be? In good -time I went into the _établissement_ grounds at the cost of a franc, and -was at once guided by the crowd to the brink of a small pond, where -sure enough a veritable live seal was swimming about, asking us all as -plainly as mild brown eyes could speak what all the rout meant, and then -diving smoothly under, to appear again on the other side of the pond. -Were the cruel Frenchmen actually going to send the gentle beast up into -the air? My speculations were cut short by the first comic ascent and -the shouts of the juveniles. A figure very like Richard Doyle’s Saracens -in the illustrations to Rebecca and Rowena, with large head, bottle -nose, and little straight arms and legs, mounted suddenly into the -air, and went away, wobbling and bobbing, before the wind. Another and -another followed, as fast as they could be filled with gas. The wind -blew towards the town, and there was great excitement as to their -destiny, for they rose only to about the height of the houses. I own -I was surprised to find myself so deeply interested whether the absurd -little Punchinellos would clear the chimneys. One only failed, a fellow -in a three-cornered hat like a beadle’s, and, refusing to mount, was -soon torn in pieces by the boys. The last was a balloon of the figure -of a seal, and I was much relieved when we all trooped away to the -distribution of _bonbons_, leaving the real phoca still gliding about in -his pond with wondering eyes. The _bonbons_ were distributed in the most -polite manner, the handfuls which were thrown amongst the crowd only -calling forth a “Pardon Monsieur,” “Pardon Mademoiselle,” as they were -picked up, instead of the hurly-burly and scramble we should have had at -home. The donkey races might better be called processions, which went -three times round the _établissement_. The winner was ridden by a jockey -whose _grosse tête_ was that of a cock, in compliment, I suppose, to the -national bird; the lion jockey was nowhere, but he beat the cook’s boy, -who came in last. The figures were well got up, and some of the heads -really funny. At night we had fireworks, and a grand pyrotechnic drama -of the taking of the old castle, which stands on the chalk cliff right -over the _établissement_ and commanding the town. The garrison joined in -the fun, and assaulted the walls twice amidst discharges of rockets and -great guns. The third assault was successful, and the red-legged -soldiers swarmed on the walls in a blaze of light and planted the -tricolour. A brilliant scroll of “_Vive l’Empéreur_” came out on the -dark castle walls above their heads, and so the show ended. The castle, -by the way, is a most picturesque building. One of the towers has been -favourably noticed by Mr. Ruskin. It is also to be reverenced as the -stronghold of Henry IV. and the Protestants. It was here, just before -the battle of Arques, that he made the celebrated answer to a -faint-hearted ally, who spoke doubtfully as to the disparity of numbers, -“You forget to count God and the good cause, who are on our side.” It -will never be of any use in modern warfare, but makes a good barrack and -a most magnificent place for a pyrotechnic display for the delectation -of young folk, in which definition for these purposes may be included -the whole of the population of France. - -As I am writing, a troop of acrobats pass along the green between this -hotel and the sea, followed by a crowd of boys. There is the strong man -in black velvet carrying the long balancing triangle, on which he is -about to support the light fellow in yellow who walks by his side. - -There is an athletic fellow in crimson breeches, carrying a table on his -head, and a clown with two chairs accompanying. There they have pitched -on the green, and are going to begin, and the English boys are -leaving their cricket, and the French boys their kites and indiarubber -handballs, and a goodly ring is forming, out of which, if they are -decent tumblers, I hope they may turn an honest franc or two. - -They are not only decent but capital tumblers, the best I have seen for -many a day, especially the man in crimson. He has balanced three glasses -full of water on his forehead, and then lain down on his back, and -passed himself, tumblers and all, through two small hoops. He has placed -one chair upon the table, and then has tilted the second chair on -two legs upon the seat of the first, and on this fearfully precarious -foundation has been balancing himself with his legs straight up in the -air while I could count thirty! The strong man has just run up behind -the man in yellow, who was standing with his legs apart, and, stooping, -has put his head between the yellow man’s legs and thrown him a backward -somersault! I must positively go down and give them half a franc. It is -a swindle to look on at such good tumbling for nothing. - -P.S.--Imagine my delight, sir, when I got down on the green to find they -were the tumblers of my native land. They joined a French circus for a -tour some weeks back, but could get no money, and so broke off and -are working their way home. They can speak no French, and find it very -difficult to get leave to perform, as they have to do in all French -towns. The crowd of English boys seemed to be doing their duty by them, -so I hope they will speedily be able to raise their passage-money and -return to the land of double stout and liberty. - - - - -Normandy, 20th September 1863. - -To an Englishman with little available spare cash and time, and in want -of a thorough change of scene and air, which category I take to include -a very handsome percentage of our fellow-countrymen, I can recommend a -run in Normandy without the slightest hesitation. I am come to the age -when one learns to be what the boys call _cocksure_ of nothing in this -world, but am, nevertheless, prepared to take my stand on the above -recommendation without fear or reservation. For in Normandy he will get -an exquisitely light and bracing air, a sky at least twice as far off -as our English one (which alone will raise his spirits to at least twice -their usual altitude), a pleasant, lively, and well-to-do people, a -picturesque country, delicious pears, and, to an Englishman, some of the -most interesting old towns in the world out of his own island. All this -he may well enjoy for ten days for a five-pound note, or thereabouts, in -addition to his return fare to Dieppe or Havre. So let us throw up our -insular vacation wide-awakes, and bless the men who invented steam, and -pears, and Norman architecture, “and everything in the world beside,” - as the good old song of “the leathern bottèl” has it, and start for -the fair land from which our last conquerors came before the days get -shorter than the nights. Alas! how little of that blissful time now -remains to us of the year of grace 1863. - -It is some few years, I forget how many, since I was last in a Norman -town, and must confess that in some respects they have changed for the -better, externally at least, now that the Second Empire has had time -to make itself felt in them. All manner of police arrangements, the -sweeping, lighting, and paving, are marvellously improved, and there is -an air of prosperity about them which does one good. Even in Rouen, the -centre of their cotton district, there are scarcely any outward signs of -distress, although, so far as I could see, not more than one in three -of the mills is at work. I was told that there are still nearly 30,000 -operatives out of work in the town and neighbourhood, who have no means -of subsistence except any odd job they can pick up to earn a few sous -about the quays and markets, but if it be so they kept out of sight -during my wanderings about the town. But there is one characteristic -sign of the empire to be noted in all these same Norman towns, for -which strangers will not feel thankful, though the inhabitants may. The -building and improving fever is on them all. In Rouen, amongst other -improvements, a broad new street is being made right through some of the -oldest parts of the town, from the quays straight up to the boulevards, -which it joins close by the railway-station. This Grand Rue de -l’Empereur will be a splendid street when finished, to judge by the few -houses which are already built at the lower end. Meantime, the queer -gables of the houses whose neighbours have been destroyed, and a chapel -or two, and an old tower, standing out all by itself, which would make -the architectural fortune of any other city, and which find themselves -with breathing room now, for the first time, I should think, in the -last five hundred years, look down ruefully on the cleared space, in -anticipation of the hour rapidly approaching, when they will be again -shut out from human ken by four-storied stone palaces, and this time, -undoubtedly, for good and all. They can never hold up until another -improving dynasty arrives. - -At Havre the same process is going on. New houses are springing up all -along the new boulevards. Between the town and Frescati’s great hotel -and bathing establishment, which faces the sea, there used to stand a -curious old round tower of great size, which commanded the mouth of -the harbour, and some elaborate fortifications of more modern date. All -these have been levelled, old and new together, and the ground is now -clear for building, and will, no doubt, be covered long before I shall -see it again. Large seaports are always interesting towns, and Havre, -besides the usual attractions of such places, has a sort of shop in -greater perfection than any other port known to me. In these you can -buy or inspect curiosities, alive and dead, from all parts of the world. -Parrots of all colours of the rainbow scream at the door, long cages -full of love-birds, and all manner of other delicate little feathered -creatures one has never seen elsewhere, hang on the walls, or stand -about amongst china monsters, and cases of amber, and inlaid stools -from Stamboul, and marmoset monkeys, and goodness knows what other -temptations to solvent persons with a taste for collections or pets. -To neither of these weaknesses can I plead guilty, so after a short -inspection I stroll to the harbour’s mouth, and do wonder to think over -the astounding audacity of our late countryman, Sir Sidney Smith, who -ran his ship close in here, and proceeded in his boats to cut out a -French frigate under the guns of the old fortifications. His ship -got aground, and was taken; he also. But, after all, it was less of a -forlorn hope than throwing himself with his handful of men into Acre, -and facing Bonaparte there, which last moderately lunatic act made him a -name in history. _Audace! et encore d’audace! et toujours d’audace!_ was -the rule which brought our sailors triumphantly through the great war. -And there is another picture in that drama which Havre harbour calls up -in the English mind, to put in the scale against Sir Sidney’s failure--I -mean Citizen Muskein and his gunboats skedaddling from Lieutenant Price -in the _Badger_. Do you remember, sir, Citizen Muskein’s--or rather -Canning’s--inimitable address to his gunboats in the _Anti-Jacobin?_-- - - Gunboats, unless you mean hereafter - - To furnish food for British laughter, - - Sweet gunboats, and your gallant crew, - - Tempt not the rocks of St. Marcou, - - Beware the _Badger’s_ bloody pennant - - And that d----d invalid Lieutenant! - -Enough of war memories, and for the future the very last thing one -wishes to have to do with this simple, cheery, and, for all I can see, -honest people, is to fight them. - -There are packets twice a day from Havre across the mouth of the Seine, -a seven miles’ run, to Honfleur, described in guide-books as a dirty -little town, utterly without interest. I can only say I have seldom been -in a place of its size, not the site of any great historic event, which -is better worth spending an afternoon in, and I should strongly advise -my typical Englishman to follow this route. In the first place, the -situation is beautiful. From the steep wooded heights above the town, -where are a chapel, much frequented by sailors, and some villas, there -are glorious views up the Seine, across to Havre, and out over the sea. -Then, in the town, there is the long street, which runs down to the -lighthouse, and which, I suppose, the guide-book people never visit, as -it is out of the way. It is certainly as picturesque a street as can -be found in Rouen, or any other French town I have ever seen--except -Troyes, by the way. The houses are not large, but there is scarcely one -of them which Prout would not be proud to ask to sit to him. - -Then there is the church in the centre of the town by the market-place, -with the most eccentric of little spires. It seems, at an early period -of the Middle Ages, to have taken it into its clock--or whatever answers -to a spire’s head--that it would seer more of the world, and to have -succeeded in getting about thirty yards away from its nave. Here, -probably finding locomotion a tougher business than it reckoned on, it -has fallen asleep, and, while it slept, several small houses crept up -against its base and fell asleep also. And there it remains to this day, -looking down over the houses in which people live, and many apples and -pears are being sold, and crying, like the starling, “I can’t get out.” - There is a splendid straight avenue, stretching a mile and a half up the -Caen road, and a good little harbour full of English vessels, which -ply the egg and fruit trade, and over every third door in the sailors’ -quarter you see “Cook-house” written up in large letters, for the -benefit of the British sailor. - -The railway to Lisieux passes through a richly wooded, hilly country, -and then runs out into the great plain in which Caen lies. The city of -William the Conqueror is quite worthy of him, which is saying a good -deal. For, though one may not quite share Mr Carlyle’s enthusiasm for -“Wilhelmus Conquestor,” it must be confessed that he is, at least, one -of the three strongest men who have ruled in England, and that in the -long run he has done a stroke of good work for our nation. The church -of the Abbey _des Hommes_, which he began in 1066, and of which Lanfranc -was the first abbot, stands just as he left it, except the tops of two -towers at the west end, which were finished two centuries later. It is -a pure Norman church, 320 feet long, and 98 feet high in the nave and -transepts, and the simplest and grandest specimen of that noble style -I have ever seen. William’s grave is before the high altar, the spot -marked by a dark stone, and no king ever lay in more appropriate -sepulchre. The Huguenots rifled the grave and scattered his bones, but -his strong stern spirit seems to rest over the place. There is an old -building near the Abbey surmounted by a single solid pinnacle, under -which is a room which tradition says he occupied. It is now filled with -the wares of a joiner who lives below. Caen is increasing in a solid -manner in its outskirts, but seems less disturbed and altered by the -building mania than any of her sisters. There was an English population -of 4000 and upwards living here before 1848, but the English Consul -fairly frightened them away by assurances of his inability to protect -them (against what does not seem to have been settled) in that wild -time, and now there are not as many hundreds. One of the survivors is -the Commissionaire of the Hôtel d’Angleterre, West by name, a really -intelligent and serviceable man, well up to his work. It is scarcely -ever worth while to spend a franc on a commissionaire, but West is an -exception to the rule. His father was in the lace trade, which is active -in Caen, but his premises were burnt down some years since, and an -end put to his manufacture. West is now trying to revive the family -business, and one of his first steps was to get over a new lace machine, -and a man to work it, from England. It has not proved a good speculation -as yet, for no one else can manage the machine, and the Englishman -insists on being drunk half his time. - -We left by one of the steamers which ply daily from Caen to Havre. -The run down the river is chiefly interesting from the quarries on its -banks. They are not the principal quarries, but are of very considerable -extent; and from the quantities of tip, heaped into moderate-sized -grass-covered hills by the river side, it is plain that they must have -been in work here for centuries. You see the stone in many places lying -like rich Cheddar cheese, and cut as regularly in flakes as a grocer -would cut his favourite cheeses. The stone is very soft when it comes -first from the quarries, but gains its great hardness and sharpness -after a short exposure. After passing the quarries we got between salt -marshes haunted by abundance of jack snipe, and so we passed out to sea. - - - - -Gleanings from Boulogne - -There is one large portion of the French people which has improved -marvellously in appearance in the last few years, and that is the -army. The setting up of the French soldier of the line used to be much -neglected, but now you never see a man, however small and slight, who -does not carry himself and move as if every muscle in his body had been -thoroughly and scientifically trained. And this is the actual fact. They -have the finest system of military gymnastics which has ever been seen. -In every garrison town there is a gymnasium, in which the men have to -drill as regularly as on the parade-ground. The one close to the gate -of the old town of Boulogne is an admirable specimen, and well worth a -visit. Our authorities are, I believe, slowly following in the steps of -the French, but little has as yet been done. There is no branch of army -reform which may more safely be pressed on. We have undoubtedly the -finer material. The English soldier is a bigger and more muscular -man than the French soldier, but is far behind him in his physical -education, and must remain so until we provide a proper system of -gymnastic training, which, by the bye, will benefit the general health -of the men, and develop their intelligence as well as their muscles. - -During our stay at Boulogne there was some very heavy weather. A strong -sou’-wester came on one night, and by two o’clock next day, when I went -down, was hurling the angry green waves against the great beams of the -southern pier in fearful fashion. The entrance to the harbour, as most -of your readers will remember, is quite narrow, not one hundred yards -across between the two pier heads. The ebb-tide was sweeping down from -the north, and, meeting the gale right off the harbour’s mouth, made a -battling and raging sea which brought one’s heart into one’s mouth to -look at. The weather was quite bright, and though the wind was so strong -that I held my hat on with difficulty, the northern pier was crowded, -as the whole force of the sea was spent against the southern pier, over -which it was leaping every moment. We were in comparative shelter, and -could watch, Without being drenched with spray, the approach of one -of the fishing smacks of the port, which was coming home. I shall not -easily forget the sight. We stood there, jammed together, rough sailors, -fishwomen, Cockneys, weatherbound soldiers, well-dressed ladies, a crowd -of all ranks, the wind singing through us so that we could scarcely make -our nearest neighbours hear. Not that we wanted to talk. The sight of -the small black hull and ruddy brown sail of the smack, now rising on -the crest of a great wave, and the next moment all but disappearing -behind it, took away the desire, almost the power, of speech. Two boats, -manned with fishermen, pulled to the harbour’s mouth, and lay rolling -in the comparatively still water just within the shelter of the -southern pier head. It was comforting to see them there, though if any -catastrophe had happened they could never have lived in that sea. But -the gallant little smack needed no help. She was magnificently steered, -and came dancing through the wildest part of the race without shipping a -single sea, seeming to catch each leaping wave just in the spot where it -was easiest to ride over. As she slid out of the seething cauldron into -the smooth water past the waiting boats the crowd drew a long breath, -and many of us hurried back to get a close view of her as she ran into -her place amongst the other fishing boats alongside the quay. I envied -the grizzly old hero at the helm, as he left his place, threw off his -dreadnought coat, and went to help the two men and two boys who were -taking in the sail and coiling away the ropes. There was much shouting -and congratulation from above; but they made little answer, and no fuss. -Their faces struck me very much, especially the boys’, which were full -of that quiet self-contained look one sees in Hook’s pictures. There was -no other boat in the offing then, so I went home; but within a few hours -heard that a smack had capsized in the harbour’s mouth, with the loss of -one man. I only marvel how the rest could have been saved. - -On the 1st of October in every year there is a solemn festival of the -seafaring people of Boulogne, and the sea is blessed by their pastors. -I was anxious to wait for the ceremony, but was unable to do so. There -seems to be a strange mixture of trust in God and superstition in all -people who “occupy their business on the great waters.” There is a -little chapel looking down on Boulogne port full of thank-offerings of -the sailors’ wives, where the fishwomen go up to plead with God, -and pour out the agony of their souls in rough weather. There are -propitiatory gifts, too, by the side of the thank-offerings, and the -shadow of a tyrannous power in nature, to be bought off with gifts, -darkens the presence of the true Refuge from the storm. There are -traces, too, of a more direct idolatry in the town. In the year 643 of -our era the Madonna came to Boulogne in an open boat, so runs the -story, and left an image with the faithful, which soon became the great -religious lion of the neighbourhood, drawing largely, and performing a -series of miracles all through the Middle Ages. When Henry VIII. took -the town the English carried off the image, but it was restored in good -condition when peace came, and as powerful as ever for wonder-working. -The Huguenots got hold of it half a century later, and were supposed to -have destroyed it; but an image, which at any rate did duty for it, -was ultimately fished up out of a well. Doubts as to identity, however, -having arisen, the matter was referred to the Sorbonne, and a jury of -doctors declared in favour of the genuineness of the article which was -forthcoming. And so it continued to practise with varying success until -the Revolution, when the Jacobins laid hands on it, broke it up, -and burnt it, thinking to make once for all an end of this and other -idol-worships. But a citizen not so enlightened as his neighbours stayed -by the fire, and succeeded at last in rescuing what he declared to be an -arm of the original image, which remains an object of veneration still, -and is said not to have lost all healing power. But it is far inferior -in this respect to some drops of the holy blood, for the reception of -which a countrywoman of ours has built a little chapel in the suburbs. - -Boulogne has all the marks of rapidly increasing material prosperity -which may be seen now in every French town, one of the many fruits of -which is a wonderful improvement in the condition of the streets and -thoroughfares. The fine new buildings, the look of the shops and of the -people, all tell the same tale. In fact, one comes away from France -now with a feeling that, so far as surface polish and civilisation are -concerned, this is the country which is going to the front. Whether it -goes any deeper is a matter upon which a traveller flitting about for a -few weeks cannot venture an opinion. - -I came back in one of the daily packets to London Bridge, which, besides -carrying seventy passengers, was piled fore and aft with cargo. There -were 400 cases of wine on deck, besides other packages, which sorely -curtailed our walking privileges. But the boats are good boats, and the -voyage past Dover, through the Downs, round the North Foreland, and up -the Thames, is so full of life and interest that it is well worth making -a long day of it, if one is a moderately good sailor. The advertisements -call it eight and a half hours, which means eleven; but it is not a -moment too long. - - - - -Blankenberghe - -Yesterday (14th August) we were warned by meagre fare at the _table -d’hôte_ of our hotel that it was the vigil of some saint’s day. Our -gastronomic knowledge was enlarged by the opportunity of partaking -of boiled mussels. A small and delicate species of this little -fish--despised of Englishmen--is found in extraordinary quantities on -this coast. The sand is dotted with the shells after every ebb. The -wattles of the jetties are full of them. After the first shock of having -a salad bowl full of small black shells presented to one, following -immediately on a delicate _potage à l’oseille_, the British citizen may -pursue his education in this direction fearlessly, with the certainty of -becoming acquainted with a delicate and appetising morsel; and he will -return to his native country with at least a toleration for “winks” and -“pickled whelks,” when he sees them vended at corner stalls in Clare -Market or in the Old Kent Road, for the benefit of the dangerous classes -of his fellow-citizens who take their meals in the street. In these -Flemish parts they are eaten with bread and butter, and even as -whitebait, and by all classes. - -After the meal I consulted the calendar in my pocket-book as to the -approaching festival, not wishing to thrust my heretical ignorance -unnecessarily on the notice of the simple folk who inhabit the _Lion -d’Or_. That obstinately Protestant document, however, informed me simply -that the Rev. E. Irving was born on this day in 1792, probably not the -saint I was in quest of. A _Churchman’s Almanac_, with which the only -English lady in the place was provided, was altogether silent as to -the day. In the end, therefore, I was obliged to fall back upon the -bright-eyed little _demoiselle de la maison_, who informed me that it -was the vigil of the Assumption of the Virgin, and that the _fête_ was -one greatly honoured by the community of Blankenberghe. - -Thus prepared, I was not surprised at being roused at five in the -morning by the clumping of sabots and clinking of hammers in the street -below--my room is a corner one, looking from two windows on the Rue -d’Eglise, the principal street of the place, and from the other two -on the Rue des Pecheurs, or “Visschurs’ Straet,” which runs across the -northern end of the Rue d’Eglise. A flight of broad steps here runs up -on to the Digue, or broad terrace fronting the sea, and at the foot of -these steps they were erecting a temporary altar, and over it a large -picture of fishermen hauling in nets full of monsters of the deep. They -had brought it from the parish church, and, as such pictures go, it was -by no means a bad one. Presently tricoloured flags began to appear from -the windows of most of the houses in both streets, and here and there -garlands of bright-coloured paper were hung across from one side to the -other. As the morning advanced the bells from the church and convent -called the simple folk to mass at short intervals, six, half-past seven, -nine, and grand mass at ten. The call seemed to be answered by more -people than we had fancied the town could have held. At eleven there -was to be a procession, and now miniature altars with lighted candles -appeared in many of the ground-floor windows, both of shops and private -houses; and the streets were strewed with rushes and diamond-shaped -pieces of coloured paper. Punctual to its time the head of the -procession came round the corner of “Visschurs’ Straet,” half a dozen -small boys ringing bells leading the way. Then came the beadledom of -Blankenberghe, in the shape of several imposing persons in municipal -uniform, then three little girls dressed in white, with bouquets, more -boys, including a diligent but not very skilful drummer, six or seven -other maidens in white, somewhat older than their predecessors, of whom -the centre one carried some ornament of tinsel and flowers. Then -came the heavy silk canopy, supported by four light poles carried by -acolytes, and surrounded by choristers, of whom the leader bore a -large silver censer, and under the canopy marched a shaven monk in -cream-coloured brocade satin, carrying the pyx, and a less gorgeously -attired brother with an open missal. Around the whole of the procession, -to protect it from the accompanying crowd, were a belt of bronzed -fishermen in their best clothes, some carrying staves, some hymn-books, -and almost all joining in the chant which was rolled out by the priest, -in a powerful bass with a kind of metallic ring in it, as they neared -the altar at the foot of the steps. Here the whole procession paused, -and the greater part knelt, while the priest put incense in the censer, -and made his obeisances and prayed in an unknown tongue, and the censer -boy swung his sweet-smelling smoke about, and the fishermen and their -wives and children prayed too, in their own tongue, I suppose, and their -own way, probably for fair weather and plenty of fish, and let us hope -for brave and gentle hearts to meet whatever rough weather and short -commons may be in store for them by land or water, Then the procession -rose, and passed down the Rue d’Eglise, pausing at the corner of the -little market-place opposite a rude figure of the Madonna in a niche -over some pious doorway, -[Greek phrase] -and so out of sight. And the _bourgeois_ blew out the candles and took -away the chairs on which, while the halt lasted, they had been kneeling -from their shop windows, putting back the bathing dresses, and the shell -boxes, and other sea-side merchandise, while the whole non-shopkeeping -population, and the neighbours from Bruges, and the strangers who fill -the hotels and lodging-houses turned out upon the splendid sands and -on the Digue to enjoy their _fête_-day. In the afternoon the _corps de -musique_ of the communal schools of Bruges gave a gratuitous concert to -us all by the permission of the communal administration of that town, -as we bathed, or promenaded, or sipped coffee or liqueurs in the -broad verandahs of the _cafés_ which line the Digue. Gaily dressed -middle-class women (of upper classes, as we understand them, I see -none), in many-coloured garments and immense structures of false back -hair, such as these eyes have never before seen; a sprinkling of -Belgian officers in uniform, Russians, Frenchmen, Germans a few, and two -Anglo-Saxons, Englishmen I cannot say, for one is an American citizen -and the other your contributor, who compose the only English-speaking -males, so far as I can judge; groups of Flemish women of the people in -long black cloth cloaks, with large hoods lined with black satin, more -expensive probably, but not nearly so picturesque as the old red cloak -which thirty years ago was the almost universal Sunday dress of women in -Wiltshire, Berkshire, and other Western counties; little old-fashioned -girls in nice mob caps, and the fishermen in excellent blue broad-cloth -jackets and trousers, and well-blacked shoes or boots, instead of the -huge sabots of their daily life; in short, every soul, I suppose, in -Blankenberghe, from the Bourgmestre who sits on his throne, to the -donkey-boy who drives along his Neddy under a freight of children, at -half a franc an hour, whenever he can entice the small fry from the -superior attraction of engineering with the splendid sand, spends his -or her three or four hours on the Digue, enjoying whatever of the music, -gossip, coffee, beer, or other pastimes they are inclined to or can -afford; and in that whole crowd of pleasant holiday-making folk there is -not one single trace of poverty, not a starved face, not a naked foot, -not a ragged garment. It is the same on the week-days. The people, -notably the fishermen and _baigneurs_, dress roughly, but they have all -comfortable thick worsted stockings in their sabots, and their jerseys -and overalls are ample and satisfactory. Why is it that in nine places -out of ten on the Continent this is so, and that in England you shall -never be able to find a watering-place which is not deformed more or -less by poverty and thriftlessness? Right across the sea, there, on the -Norfolk coast, lie Cromer and Sherringham. More daring sailors never -manned lifeboat, more patient fishermen never dragged net, than the -seafaring folk of those charming villages. They are courteous, simple, -outspoken folk, too, singularly attractive in their looks and ways. -But, alas! for the rags, and the grinding poverty, declaring itself in -a dozen ways, in the cottages, in the children’s looks, in the women’s -premature old age. When will England wake up, and get rid of the curse -of her wealth and the curse of her poverty? When will an Englishman -be able again to look on at a fête-day in Belgium, or Switzerland, -or Germany, or France, without a troubled conscience and a pain in his -heart, as he thinks of the contrast at home, and the bitter satire in -the old, worn-out name of “Merry England?” It is high time that we -all were heartsick over it, for the canker grows on us. Those who know -London best will tell you so; those who know the great provincial towns -and country villages will tell you so, except perhaps that the latter -are now getting depopulated, and so contain less altogether of joy or -sorrow. However, sir, there are other than these holiday times in which -to dwell on this dark subject. I ought to apologise for having fallen -into it unawares, when I sat down merely to put on paper, if I could in -a few lines, and impart to your readers the exceeding freshness of the -feeling which the feast-day at this little Belgian watering-place leaves -on one. But who knows when he sits down, at any rate in the holidays, -what he is going to write? However good your intentions, at times you -can’t “get the hang of it,” can’t say the thing you meant to say. - -You may wonder, too, at this sudden plunge into the _fête_ of the -Assumption at Blankenberghe, when I have never warned you even that I -had flitted from my round on the great crank which grinds for us all so -ruthlessly in the parts about the Strand and the Inns of Court. Well, -sir, I plead in my defence the test that a very able friend of mine -applies to novels. He opens the second volume and reads a chapter; if -that tempts him, on he goes to the end of the book; if it is very good -indeed, he then goes back, and fairly begins at the beginning. So I hope -your readers will be inclined to peruse in future weeks some further -gossip respecting this place, which should perhaps have preceded -the _fête_-day. If they should get to take the least interest in -Blankenberghians and their works and ways, it is more than these latter -can be said to do about them, for in the two or three cheap sheets which -I find on the table here, and which constitute the press of this corner -of Belgium, there is seldom more than a couple of lines devoted to the -whole British Empire. The fact that there is not another Englishman -in the place, and that the American above mentioned, the only other -representative of our English-speaking stock here, went once to see the -Derby, and got so bored by two o’clock that he left the Downs and walked -back to Epsom station, enduring the whole chaff of the road, and finding -the doors locked and the clerks and porters all gone up to the race, -ought to be enough to make them curious--curious enough at any rate -for long-vacation purposes. There are plenty of odds and ends of life -a little out of our ordinary track lying about here to make a small -“harvest for a quiet eye,” which I am inclined to try and garner for -you, if you think well. And are not the new King and Queen coming next -week to delight their subjects, and witness many kinds of fireworks, -and a “_concours des joueurs de boule, dits pas baenbolders_,” whatever -these may be? - - - - -Belgian Bathing - -I should like to know how many grown Englishmen or Englishwomen, apart -from those unfortunates who are preparing for competitive examinations, -are aware of the existence of this place? No Englishman is bound to know -of it by any law of polite education acknowledged amongst us, for is it -not altogether ignored in Murray? - -Even Bradshaw’s _Continental Guide_ is silent as to its whereabouts. -This is somewhat hard upon Blankenberghe, sturdy and rapidly growing -little watering-place that she is, already exciting the jealousy of -her fashionable neighbour, Ostend. It must be owned, however, that she -returns the compliment by taking the slightest possible interest in the -contemporary history of the British Empire. Nevertheless, the place has -certain recommendations to persons in search of a watering-place out of -England. If you are content with an hotel of the country, of which there -is a large choice, you may have three good meals a day and a bedroom for -six and a half francs, with a considerable reduction for families. Even -at the fashionable hotels on the Digue the price is only eight or nine -francs; and when you have paid your hotel bill you are out of all danger -of extravagance, for there is literally nothing to spend money upon. -Your bathing machine costs you sixpence. There are no pleasure boats and -no wheeled vehicles for hire in the place, and no excursions if there -were; shops there are none; and the market is of the smallest and -meagerest kind. There are no beggars and no amusements, except bathing -and the Kursaal. These, however, suffice to keep the inhabitants and -visitors in a state of much contentment. - -But now for the geography. From Ostend harbour to the mouth of the -Scheldt is a dead flat, highly cultivated, and dotted all over with -villages and farmhouses, but somewhat lower than high-water mark. The -sea is kept out by an ancient and dilapidated-looking dyke, some fifty -feet high, on the slopes of which flourishes a strong, reedy sort of -grass, planted in tufts at regular intervals, to hold the loose soil -together. The fine sand drifts up the dyke and blows over it, lying just -like snow, so that if you half-close your eyes and look at it from fifty -yards’ distance, you may fancy yourself on a glacier in the Oberland. -Blankenberghe is an ancient fishing village, lying just under the dyke, -between eight and nine miles from Ostend. When it came into the minds -of the inhabitants to convert it into a watering-place they levelled the -top of their dyke for some 600 yards until it is only about twenty-five -feet above high-water mark. They paved the sea face with good stone, -and the fine flat walk on the top, thirty yards broad, with brick, and -called it the Digue, in imitation of Ostend. They built a Kursaal, -three or four great hotels, and half a dozen first-class lodging-houses, -opening on to the Digue, with deep verandahs in front, and they brought -a single line branch of the Flanders railway from Bruges, and the -deed was accomplished. There is no such a sea-walk anywhere that I can -remember as Blankenberghe Digue, from which you look straight away -with nothing but sea between you and the North Pole. From the Digue you -descend by a flight of twenty-four steps on one side to the sands, on -the other into the town, the chief of these latter flights being at the -head of the Rue d’Eglise, the backbone, as it were, of the place, -which runs from the railway station to the Digue. There may be -1500 inhabitants out of the season, when all the Digue hotels and -lodging-houses are shut up; at present, perhaps, another 1000, coming -and going, and attracted by the bathing. - -Of this institution an Englishman is scarcely a fair judge, as it is -conducted on a method so utterly unlike anything we have at home at -present. My American friend assures me that we are 100 years behind all -other nations in this matter, that the Belgians conduct it exactly -as they do in the States, and that theirs is the only decent mode of -bathing. It may be so. One sees such rapid changes in these days, and -advanced opinions of all kinds are being caught up so quickly by even -such Philistines as the English middle classes, that he is a bold man -who will assert that we shall not see the notions of Brighton and Dover -yield to the new ideas of Newport and Blankenberghe before long. In one -respect, indeed, it is well that they should, for the machines here are -convenient little rooms on wheels, with plenty of pegs, two chairs, a -small tub, a looking-glass, and everything handsome about them. But the -wheels are broad, and very-low; consequently you are only rolled down -to the neighbourhood of the water, thinking yourself lucky if you get -within five or six yards of it. Now, as the occupants of the machine on -your left and right are probably sprightly and somewhat facetious young -Belgian or French women, and as the beach shelves so gently that you -have at least a run of fifty yards before you can get into deep enough -water to swim with comfort, the root difference between Blankenberghian -and English habits discloses itself to you from the first. Of course, as -men, women, and children all bathe together, costumes are necessary, -but those in which the men have to array themselves only make bathing a -discomfort, without giving one the consciousness of being decently clad. -You have handed to you with your towels a simple jersey, with arms and -legs six or eight inches in length, reaching perhaps to the middle of -the biceps and femoral muscles. Into this apology for a dress you insert -and button yourself up (it is well for you, by the way, if one or two -buttons be not missing), and then are expected to walk calmly out -into the water through groups of laughing girls in jackets and loose -trousers. Having threaded your way through these, and avoided a -quadrille party on the one hand, and an excellent fat couple, reminding -you of the picture of Mr. and Mrs. Bubb in the one-horse “chay,” who are -bathing their family on the other, you address yourself to swimming. -As you descended from the Digue you read, “Bathers are expressly -recommended to hold themselves at least fifteen yards from the breakers -by buoys designed.” You do not see any breakers, but there is a line -of buoys about eighty yards out to which you contemptuously paddle, and -after all find that you are scarcely out of your depth. When you have -had enough you return, poor, dripping, forked mortal, to a last and -severest trial. For the universal custom is to sit about on chairs -amongst the machines; and on one side of your door are perhaps a couple -of nursemaids chatting while their children build sand castles, on the -other a matron or two working and gossiping. Now, sir, a man who has -been taking the rough and the smooth of life for a good many years -within half a mile of Temple Bar is not likely to be oversensitive, but -I would appeal to any contributor on your staff, sir, or to yourself, -whether you would be prepared to go through such an ordeal without -wincing? On my return from my first swim I recognised my American cousin -in his element. He was clad in a blue striped jersey,--would that I -could have sprinkled it with a few stars,--and was sauntering about with -the greatest coolness from group to group, enjoying the whole business, -and no doubt looking forward complacently to the time when differences -of sex shall be altogether ignored in the academies of the future. He -threw a pitying glance at me as I skedaddled to my machine, secretly -vowing to abstain from all such adventures hereafter. Since that time I -have taken my dip too early for the Belgian public to be present at the -ceremony, but, like the rest of the world, I daily look on, and, unlike -them, wonder. As to the morality of it, I can’t say that I think the -custom of promiscuous bathing as practised here seems to me either -moral or immoral. Occasionally when the waves are a little rough you see -couples clinging together for mutual support more than the circumstances -perhaps strictly require; but there is very little of this. The whole -business seemed to me not immoral, but in our conventional sense vulgar, -much like “kissing in the ring,” which I have seen played by most -exemplary sets of young men and women on excursions in Greenwich or -Richmond Park, but which would not do in Hamilton Gardens or a May Fair -drawing-room. Meanwhile, I hope that as long at least as I can enjoy -the water we shall remain benighted bathers in the eyes of our American -cousins and of the brave Belgians. To a man the first requisite of a -really enjoyable bath is surely deep water, and the second, no clothes, -for the loss of either of which no amount of damp flirtation can -compensate, in the opinion at least of your contributor, who, -nevertheless in these Belgian parts, while obliged to record his -opinion, has perhaps a great consciousness that he may be something of -an old fogey. - -I suppose that a man or nation is to be congratulated about whom their -neighbours have nothing to say. If so, the position of England at this -time is peculiarly enviable out here. I read the _Indépendance Belge_ -diligently, but under the head “Nouvelles d’Angleterre,” for which that -journal retains, as it would seem, a special correspondent, I never -learn anything whatever except the price of funds. We occupy an average -of perhaps twelve lines in its columns, and none at all in those of the -_La Vigie de la Côte_, the special production of Blankenberghe, or of -the Bruges and Ostend journals. - - Oh! wad some power the giftie gie us, - - To see oursels as ithers see us! - -Certainly a short residence at Blankenberghe should be taken in -conjunction with the volume of essays on international policy by Mr. -Congreve and his fellow Comtists, which I happen to have brought with -me for deliberate perusal, if one wants to feel the shine taken out of -one’s native land. I don’t. - - - - -Belgian Boats - -Blankenberghe has one branch of native industry, and one only. From -time immemorial it has been a fishing station. The local paper declares -that there has been no change in the boats, the costumes, or the -implements of this industry since the sixteenth century, with the -exception noticed below. One can quite believe it, as far as the boats -are concerned. They are very strongly built tubs, ranging from twenty to -thirty tons, flat-bottomed, the same breadth of beam fore and aft, built -I should think on the model of the first duck which was seen off this -coast, and a most sensible model too. They have no bowsprit, but a short -foremast in the bows, carrying one small sail, and a strong mainmast -amidships, carrying one big sail. Each of these sails is run up by a -single rope, rigged through a pulley in the top of the masts, and of -other rigging there is none. The boats are all of a uniform russet-brown -colour, the tint of old age, looking as if they had been once varnished, -in the time, let us say, of William the Silent, and had never been -touched since. There is not a scrap of paint on the whole fleet. In -short, I am convinced that the local paper by no means exaggerates their -antiquity. Instead of finding it hard to believe that sixteenth-century -men went to sea in them, I should not be startled to hear that our first -parents were the original proprietors, or at any rate that the present -fleet was laid down by Japhet, when the Ark was broken up. The habits of -the fleet are as quaint as their looks. There is no scrap of anchorage -or shelter of any kind here, the sands lie perfectly open to the north -and west, and the surf seems about as rough as it is elsewhere. But the -Blankenberghe fishermen are perfectly indifferent, convinced no doubt -that neither sea nor sand will do anything to hurt them or their boats, -for old acquaintance’ sake. To me, accustomed to the scrambling, -and shouting, and hauling up above high-water mark, the running of -naked-legged boys into the water, and the energetic doings of the crew -when a fishing boat comes to land at home, there is something of the -comically sublime in the contrast presented by these good Flemings. As -one of the old brown tubs rolls towards the shore, looking as if she -scarcely had made up her mind which end to send in first, you see a man -quietly pitch a small anchor over the bows, and then down come the two -sails. Sometimes the anchor begins to hold before the boat grounds, but -just as often she touches before the anchor bites, but nobody cares. The -only notice taken is to unship the rudder and haul it aboard; then comes -a wave which swings her round, and leaves her broadside to the surf. -Nobody moves. Bang comes the next breaker, lifting her for a moment, and -bumping her down again on the sand, her bows perhaps a trifle more to -sea, but the crew only smoke and hold on. And so it goes on, bang, bump, -thump, till sooner or later she swings right round and settles into her -place on the sand. When she has adjusted this to her own satisfaction -one of the crew just drops over the stern with another anchor on his -shoulder, which he fixes in the sand, and then he and the rest leave -her and walk up to the Digue, and generally on to vespers at the church, -which is often three parts filled with these jolly fellows. Getting off -again is much the same happy-go-lucky business. The men shoulder the -anchor which is out at the stern, or, as often as not, leave it on shore -with their cable coiled, ready for their return. Then they clamber into -their tub, which is bumping away, held only by the anchor out at the -bows. They wait for the first wave that floats them, then up go the -sails, on goes the rudder, they get a haul on the anchor, and after -heading one or two different ways get fairly off. - -Their costume is picturesque,--thick red flannel shirts, the collars of -which fold over their tightly buttoned blue jackets, and give a tidy, -uniform appearance to a group of them. The old stagers still wear huge -loose red knickerbockers and pilot boots, but the younger generation are -degenerating into the common blue trousers and sabots, the latter almost -big enough to come ashore on in case of wreck. Altogether they are -the most well-to-do set of fishermen to look at that I have ever seen, -though where their money comes from I cannot guess, as they seem to take -little but small flounders and skate. There used to be good cod-fishing -in the winter, they say, but of late years it has fallen off. The elder -fishermen attribute this to the disgust of the cod at an innovation -in the good old ways of fishing. Formerly two boats worked together, -dragging a net with large meshes between them, but this has been of late -superseded by the English bag-net system, which brings up everything -small and great, and disturbs the _pâture accoutumée_ of the cod, -whereupon he has emigrated. - -Disastrous islanders that we are, who never touch anything, from Japan -to Blankenberghe, without setting honest folk by the ears and bringing -trouble! The “Corporation of Fishers,” a close and privileged body, who -hold their heads very high here, are looking into the matter, and it -seems likely that this destructive _chalut, d’origine Anglaise_, may yet -be superseded. It remains to be seen whether the cod will come back. - -We have had abominable weather here, but nothing in the shape of a -storm. I confess to have been looking out for a good north-wester with -much interest. Assuming that the effect as to breakers and surf would -be much the same as elsewhere, one is curious to ascertain whether these -fishing boats are left to bump it out on the sands. If so, and no harm -comes to them, the sooner our fishermen adopt the Blankenberghe model of -boat the better. I fear, however, that with all their good looks and old -traditions, the seafaring folk on this coast are wanting in the splendid -daring of our own ’long-shore people. On Monday night the mail packet -from Ostend to Dover went out in a stiffish breeze, but nothing which -‘we should call a gale, at eight o’clock. By some curious mismanagement -both her engines got out of order and came to a dead stop almost -immediately. Strange to say, her anchors were down in the hold under the -luggage (the boats are Belgian, not English manned), and she had a very -narrow escape of drifting right on shore. Luckily the crew, managed to -get up an anchor in time to prevent this catastrophe, and there she -lay right off the harbour, perfectly helpless, throwing up rockets and -burning blue lights for hours. Neither tug, nor lifeboat, nor pilot boat -stirred, and she rode at anchor till morning, when the wind went down. I -venture to think that such a case is unheard of on our coasts. It occurs -to one to ask whether there is such an official as a harbourmaster at -the port of Ostend, and if so, what his duties are. There were sailors -enough in harbour to have manned fifty lifeboats, for the Ostend fishing -fleet of 200 boats had come back from their three months’ cruise on that -very afternoon. The contingency of riding out a stormy night in a mail -packet within a few hundred yards of a lee shore, in front of a great -port full of seamen, is scarcely one of those on which we holiday folk -reckon when we book ourselves for the Continent. - -Coming out on the Digue one night, soon after my arrival, I was brought -to a stand-still by the appearance of the sea. It was low water, so -that I was about 200 yards off, and at first I could scarcely believe -my eyes, which seemed to tell me that every breaker was a flood of pale -fire. I went down close to the water to confirm or disenchant myself, -and found it more beautiful the nearer I got. Of course one has seen the -ordinary phosphorescence of the sea in a hundred places, but this was -quite a different affair. The sand under one’s feet even was molten -silver. The scientific doctor says it is simply the effect of the -constant presence on this coast of great numbers of an animalcule which -can only be seen through a microscope, called the _Noctiluca miliaris_. -It looked on that evening as if huge fiery serpents were constantly -rising and dashing along. People here say that they have it always, but -this is certainly not so. On several other evenings the breaking waves -were slightly luminous, but scarcely enough to attract attention. If you -could only make sure of seeing sea and shore ablaze as it was on -that particular night, you ought at once, sir, to pack traps and off, -notwithstanding these abominably high winds. I cannot help thinking -that, besides a monster gathering--probably a Reform League meeting--of -the Noctiluca miliaris, there must have been something very unusual in -the atmosphere on that particular night. It was a kind of “eldritch” - night, in which you felt as if you had got into the atmosphere of -Tennyson’s _Morte d’Arthur_, and a great hand might come up out of the -water without giving you a start. There was light right up in the -sky above one’s head, a succession of half luminous rain clouds were -drifting rapidly across at a very low elevation from the northwest, not -fifty yards high, as it seemed, while the smoke of my cigar floated -away slowly almost in the opposite direction. Luckily, sir, my American -friend was with me on the night in question, to whom I can appeal as -to the truth of my facts, and we had had nothing but one bottle of -very moderately strong _vin ordinaire_ at the _table d’hote_. If your -scientific readers say that the thing is impossible, I can only answer -that so it was. - -Parson Wilbur, when he is considering the question whether the ability -to express ourselves in articulate language has been productive of more -good than evil, esteems his own ignorance of all tongues except Yankee -and the dead languages as “a kind of martello tower, in which I am safe -from the furious bombardments of foreign garrulity.” There is something -comforting and fascinating in this doctrine, but still on the whole -it is decidedly disagreeable to be reduced to signs for purposes of -intercourse, as is generally the case here. Not one soul in a hundred -can speak French. Their talk sounds like a sewing machine, with an -occasional word of English interspersed in the clicking. I am told that -if you will only talk broad Durham or Yorkshire they will understand -you, but I do not believe it, as the sounds are quite unlike. The -names of these people are wonderful. For instance, those on the bathing -machines just opposite my hotel are, Yan Yooren, Yan Yulpen, Siska -Deneve, Sandelays, and Colette Claes, abbreviated into Clotty by two -English schoolboys who have lately appeared, and are the worst dressed -and the best bathers of all the young folk here. They are fast friends, -I see, with a young Russian, whose father, an old officer, sits near me -at the _table d’hôte_. Poor old boy! I never saw a man so bored, in fact -he has disclosed to me that he can stand it no longer. Blankenberghe -has been quite too much for him. Lest it should also prove so to your -readers, I will end with his last words (though I by no means endorse -his judgment of the little Flemish watering-place), “_Maintenant je n’y -puis plus!_” - - - - -AMERICA - - -_My father in 1870 went to America for the first time. His time was so -much occupied there that he could write only home letters. My mother -has allowed me to make extracts from these, thinking that they serve to -introduce his later letters from America, which were addressed to the -_Spectator_._ - -_It was owing to the fact of my father’s having publicly taken the side -of the North in the Civil War that his reception in the United States in -1870 was so particularly warm and hearty._ - - - - -Peruvian, 6.45 p.m. - -Here I am, in my officer’s cabin, a small separate hole in our little -world on the water, all to myself. At this moment I look out of my -porthole and see the Welsh mountains coming out against a bed of -daffodil sky, for though it has been misty all day it is now a lovely -clear evening. The sea is quite calm, and there is scarcely any motion -in the ship. The tea-bell is ringing, so I must stop for a little, but -I shall have plenty of time to tell you all that has happened as yet, -as we shall be lying off Londonderry nearly all day to-morrow. The mail -does not come off to us till about 5 P.M., and we shall be there about -nine in the morning or thereabouts. I may perhaps run up to Derry to -see the old town and the gate and walls, etc., sacred to the glorious, -pious, and immortal memory of the great and good king William. - - - - -8.45 p.m. - -Tea was excellent, and afterwards R------ and I went on deck, and saw -the sun go down gloriously in the line of our ship’s course; we were -steaming right up a great road of fire. The sea gets calmer and calmer, -and, in fact, there couldn’t be less movement if we were in Greenwich -reach. So now for the narrative of all my adventures since I left you at -the window. The moment we got on board, there was the rush and scramble -for places at the saloon table, which Harry I------ warned me about. We -were on board amongst the first, but agreed not to join the scramble, -taking any places that might happen to be going. There is something so -ludicrously contemptible to me in seeing people eagerly and seriously -struggling about such matters that I am quite unable to join in the -worry. I doubt if I could even if the ship were going down, and we were -all taking to the boats. It isn’t the least from any virtuous or -heroic feeling, but simply from the long dwelling in the frame of mind -described in a chapter in _Past and Present_. When every one had taken -the seats they liked, we settled down very comfortably into two which -were vacant, and which, for all I can see, are as good as any of the -rest. - - - - -8 a.m., Friday. - -Off the north coast of Ireland, and a splendid coast it is. A stout -party, on whom I do not the least rely, told me an hour or so ago, when -I first went on deck, that we were passing the Giant’s Causeway. The -morning is deliciously fresh, and there is just a little roll in the -vessel which is slightly discomforting some of the passengers, I see. I -slept like a top without turning, for which, indeed, I haven’t room in -my tray on the top of the drawers. My only mishap has been that when -they were sluicing the decks this morning, the water running down the -ship’s side naturally turned into my wide-open porthole to see if I was -getting up. The device was quite successful, as I shot out of bed at -once to close it up and save my things lying on the sofa below. No -damage done fortunately. - - - - -9.30 a.m., Friday. - -Here we are lying quietly at anchor in Lough Foyle after an excellent -breakfast. We wait here for the mails, but as it is nineteen miles -I find by road up to Derry, I shall not make the attempt. The plot -thickens on board, and I am already deeply interested. There are 150 -emigrants from the East End, who are being taken over by their parson -and a philanthropist whose name I haven’t caught yet. I have been -forward amongst these poor folk, and have won several hearts or at least -opened many mouths by distributing some few spare stamps I luckily had -in my pocket. Lovely as the morning is, and delicious as the contrast -between the exquisite air on deck, where they are all sitting, when -contrasted with Whitechapel air, I can’t help looking at them with very -mingled feelings. They are a fine steady respectable class of poor. The -women nursing and caring for their children with grave, serious, sweet -faces, and the men really attentive. All of them anxious to send off -scraps of letters to their friends in Great Babylon. There is one -slip of the foredeck roped off entirely for nursing mothers and small -children, and there are a lot of quaint little plumps rolling and -tumbling about there, with some of whom I hope to make friends. A -bird-fancier from the East End has several cages full of larks and -sparrows, and a magpie and jay in state cabins by themselves, all of -which he hopes to make great merchandise of in Canada, where English -birds are longed for, but are very hard to keep. He had lost his -hempseed in Liverpool, but luckily a boat has gone ashore, and I think -there is good hope of getting him a fresh supply. There is a little -gathering of the emigrants for service at eight in the evening forward. -I didn’t know of it last night, but shall attend henceforth. No thought -of such a thing in the state saloon! “How hardly shall they that have -riches”! - -Here, as elsewhere, the truest and deepest life, because the simplest, -lies amongst those who have little of the things of this world lying -between them and their Father and this invisible world, with its -realities. - - - - -On board the Peruvian. - -We are well out on the broad Atlantic, which at present we are inclined -to think a little of an imposture. There is certainly a swell of some -kind, for the ship pitches more or less, but to the unpractised eye -looking out on the waste of waters it is quite impossible to account for -the swell, for, except for the better colour, the sea looks very much -as it does off the Isle of Wight; great waves like the slope of a chalk -down, following one another in solemn procession, up which the long ship -climbs like a white road. However, it is early days to grumble about -the want of swell, and when it comes I may not like it any more than -another. After finishing my letter to you this morning, I went ashore -to post it, and found that after all it wouldn’t reach London till -to-morrow night. So I sent you a telegram, which I hope you got before -bed-time at any rate, and redirected my letter to Cromer. To pass the -time I took a jaunting car with two other passengers, and we drove to -an old castle looking over Lough Foyle, formerly a stronghold of the -O’Doherty’s till it was sacked and knocked about their ears by an -expedition of Scotch Campbells, who did a good work for the district by -destroying it. We found lots of shamrock in the ruins, and enjoyed -the drive and still more a bathe afterwards. The country seems very -prosperous. The people, strapping, light-haired, blue-eyed Celts, -handsome and well-to-do; in fact, evidently much better fed and better -educated than almost any English country district I know. The mails -came down from Derry in a tender, which brought us the news of the first -battle and the Prussian victory, which I for one always looked for, and -we got away by seven, two hours later than we expected. However, the -wind is fair and we are making famous way, and by the time I get up in -the morning I expect we shall be 200 miles from the Irish coast. - - - - -9.30 p.m., Saturday. - -A long calm day and we have made a splendid run--shall be in Quebec in -good time to-morrow week if this weather holds; but knowing persons say -it won’t, and that we have seen the last of fine weather, and must look -out for squalls--for why? the wind has gone round against the sun, and -it has settled to rain hard with a barometer steadily going down. The -Roman Catholic bishop (who is not very expert in weather that I know of, -but is a very, jovial party, who enjoys his cigar and gossip, and -was one of the first to go in for a game of shovel-board on deck this -morning) declares that we shall have it fine all the way, as he has made -the passage six times and has never had bad weather yet. In any case I -hope it won’t be rough to-morrow, for we are to have a real treat in the -way of spiritual dissipation. First, the bishop is to have some kind -of mass and preach a short sermon at nine (N.B. a time-table conscience -clause is to run all day, so that only latitudinarians like me will go -in for it all). Then the captain who is a rare good fellow, with a -spice of sentiment about him, which sits so well on such a bulletheaded, -broad-shouldered, resolute Jack-Tar, has his own service at eleven, in -which he will do the priest himself, an excellent example, with a sermon -by the emigrant parson, whose name is H------, afterwards. These in the -saloon; then at 2.30 a service in the steerage by H------, or G------, -the other parson, and a final wind up, also in the steerage at 7.30. -G------is the clergyman of Shaftesbury, George Glyn’s borough; was -formerly in the Navy, and was in the Ragged School movement of ’48, ’49, -when I used to go off twice a week in the evening to Ormond Yard, when -poor old M------ had the gas turned out, and his hat knocked over his -eyes by his boys. He knew Ludlow and Furnival, but I don’t remember -him. However, he is a right good fellow, and gave us a really good -_extempore_ prayer last night at the midships’ service. The steerage is -certainly most interesting. There are now nearly 500 emigrants on board -there, and the captain says they are about the best lot he has ever -had. Going round this morning I was struck by a dear little light-haired -girl, who was standing with her arm round the neck of a poor woman very -sick and ill, and such tenderness and love in her poor little face -as she turned it up to us as almost brought tears into one’s eyes. Of -course I thought the woman was her mother. No such thing; she was no -relation at all. The little dear had never seen her till she met her -on board, but was attracted by her misery, and had never left her side -since she had been so ill. The poor woman had two strapping daughters -on board who had never been near her. How strangely folk are fixed up in -this queer world. - - - - -Monday. - -We know what a good swell in mid-Atlantic means at last. We were -pitching when I went to bed, finding it hard to get on with my -penmanship. Off I went as fast as usual, and never woke except for one -moment to grunt and turn round, or rather, try to turn round, in my tray -on top of the drawers at something which sounded like a crash. In the -morning we were swinging and bowing and jerking, so that I had to wait -for a favourable moment to bolt out of bed for fear of coming a cropper -if I didn’t mind. - -As soon as I was out I saw what the crash had been in the night. My big -portmanteau, which had been set on its end the night before, had had a -jumping match with my water-jug in the night. Both of them had thrown a -somersault across the cabin against the door, but the jug being brittle -(jugs shouldn’t jump against portmanteaus), and coming down undermost, -had gone all into little bits, and the water, all that wasn’t in my -shoes at least, had soaked my carpet at the door end. But it was a -glorious bright morning and the dancing hills of water and the bounding -ship sent me up dancing on the deck. My high spirits were a little -subdued after breakfast, for I had scarcely got on deck when parson -H------ came to me to say the emigrants wanted me to give them an -address. Well, I couldn’t refuse, as my heart is full of them, poor dear -folk, so down I went to get my ideas straight, and put down the heads -on paper. I thought I wouldn’t miss the air, though, so set open my -porthole window, which as I told you is about a foot across, and set -to work--as I write, this blessed porthole is about a yard away from my -right ear, and perhaps two feet above my head. Well, I was just getting -into swing with my work, when suddenly a great pitch, and kerswash! in -comes all of a wave that could squeeze through my porthole, right on -to my ear and shoulder, over my desk, drenching all my papers, -lucifer-match boxes, hair-brushes, wideawake, tobacco-pouch and other -chattels, and flooding all of my floor which my water-jug had left dry. -I bolted to the porthole and closed him up before another curious wave -could come prying in, and soon rubbed everything dry again with the help -of the Captain’s cabin-boy, and no harm is done except that I have to -sit with my feet up on my portmanteau while I write. This sheet was -dowsed in my shower-bath this morning, but I laid it on my bed, and it -seems all right now and doesn’t even blot; I shall however envelope it -now with another sheet for safety, as I’m not going to keep my porthole -shut notwithstanding the warning, and I don’t want my letters to you -floated again. - - - - -Peruvian, 9th August 1870. - -Since I put my last sheet into No. 1 envelope, everything in the good -ship _Peruvian_ has been dancing. The long tables in the saloon, at -which we are always eating and drinking, have been covered with a small -framework, over which the cloth is laid, and which has the effect of -dividing them into three compartments; a sort of trough down each side -in which are the dishes. Notwithstanding these precautions there are -constant catastrophes in the shape of spoons, forks, tumblers, and -sometimes plates, jumping the partitions suddenly as the ship heels -over. The story of the Yankee skipper saying to the lady on his left, -“I’ll trouble you, marm, for that ’ere turkey--” the bird in question -having fled from the table into her lap as he was beginning to serve -it--becomes quite commonplace. How the steward’s men get about with -plates and dishes, goodness knows; but though there is a constant -clatter and smash going on all over the ship I haven’t seen them drop -anything. I am almost the only passenger who hasn’t even had a twinge -of squeamishness, but we muster pretty well considering all things. The -Captain is one of the cheeriest fellows alive, and keeps up the spirits -of all the women. If he sees any one of them who is still about looking -peeky, he whisks her off under his arm and walks her up and down the -deck, where they stagger along together, and the fresh breeze soon -revives the damsel. He is a sort of temporary father to all the girls, -and constantly has, it seems, three or four entrusted to him to take -over or bring back. - -Of course there is a great deal of discomfort on board, but I have -visited the steerage and am delighted with the arrangements for feeding, -ventilation, etc. To poor seasick people, however, it must be very -trying. This morning I carried off to my cabin a poor forlorn young -married couple, whom I had noticed on shore at Moville, and afterwards -on board. I am sure they hadn’t been married a week, and they were -evidently ready to eat one another. When I saw them settling down on -a large bench in a covered place amidships where were twenty or thirty -folk, mostly ill, and several men smoking, she with her poor head tied -up tidily in a red handkerchief nestling on to his shoulder, I couldn’t -stand it, and took them off to my cabin, where they could nurse one -another for a few hours’ in peace. We have had a birth too on board, and -mother and child, I am glad to say, are doing well. She is a very nice -woman, I am told by one of the ladies who visits her, the wife of a -school teacher. The baby is to have Peruvian for one of its names. I -have really enjoyed the rough weather much; it has never been more than -half a gale, I believe, though several men have been thrown from the -sofas to the cabin floor, and more or less bruised. The cheery Captain -has comforted us all by announcing that we shall be through the storm -before midnight. - -Up the St. Lawrence they say we shall want light summer clothing. If the -weather settles down we are to have an amateur concert on board, which -will be, I take it, very lame on the musical side, but amusing in other -ways. - -R------ was entrusted by the Captain with the task of getting it up, -and before we got into rough weather had booked some six or seven -volunteers. I daresay he will be well enough to-morrow morning to go on -with it. My address is of course postponed for the present. - - - - -Wednesday. - -The Captain was quite right--we sailed clear out of the storm before -midnight yesterday, and though to-day some swell is left, it is so calm -that the saloon tables have quite filled up again at meal-times. I was -of course nailed by the parson for my address in the afternoon, and -placed on one of the flat skylights amidships, as no other equally -convenient and fixed stump could be found. As I know you would sooner -get rubbish of mine than poetry of any one else, I give the outline. “I -was there,” I said, “at their parson’s request, to talk, but it seemed -to me that in the grand scene we were in, the great waves, the bright -sky, the free breezes, could talk to them more eloquently than human -lips. We were wont to use proverbs all our lives without realising their -meaning. ‘We’re all in the same boat’ had never impressed me till now. -Our week’s experience showed us before all things that the first duty -of those in the same boat was to help, comfort, and amuse the rest. If I -could do either I should be glad. What were we to talk about? (Shouts of -‘Canada.’) Well we would come to Canada, but first a word or two of the -old country they were leaving. Love of our birthplace, otherwise called -patriotism, is one of the strongest and noblest passions God has planted -in man’s heart. You have a great birthright as Englishmen, are members, -however humble, of the nation which has spread free speech and free -thought round the world, which was the first to declare that her -flag never should fly over a slave. Fellow-countrymen of Wycliffe, -Shakespeare, Milton. Wherever you go cherish these memories, be loyal -to the old country, keep a soft place in your heart for the land of your -birth. You are now making the passage from the old world to the new, -enjoying one of those rare resting-places which God gives us in our -lives. It is time for bracing up the whole man for new effort, for -casting off old, bad habits. One strong resolution made at such times -often is the turning-point in men’s lives. As to the land you are going -to, Remember you are getting a fresh start in life and all will depend -on yourselves. In the old land there is often not enough work for strong -and willing hands; in the new there are a hundred openings, and in all -more work than hands. One thing wanted is honest, hard work. Whatever -your hands find to do, do it with all your might, and you are sure of -comfort and independence. Your new home is England’s eldest child and -has a great destiny to work out. Be loyal therefore and true to your -birthplace, keeping old memories alive and giving her a share of your -love; be loyal to your new home, giving her your best work; above all, -be loyal and true to yourselves and you shall not be false to any man or -any land.” This, spread over half an hour, was my talk. - -When I had finished I called on the Captain, who warned them against -drink in a straightforward sailor’s speech. Then a grizzled old boy, -who had been calling out “That’s true” whenever I spoke of hard work, -scrambled up on the skylight and told them that he had come out thirty -years ago from England with nine shillings in his pocket and seven -children. He had given each of his daughters fifteen hundred dollars on -their marriage, and helped each of his sons into a farm, and had a farm -of his own, which he was going back to after visiting his old home in -Cornwall. All this he had done by hard work. He was a blacksmith, but -would turn his hand to anything. Times were just as good now as then, -and every one of them might do the same. This was a splendid clencher to -the nail I had tried to drive in. The parson wound up with more advice -as to liquor, and an account of how well the sixteen hundred he had -already sent out had done. The whole was a great success, and we all -went off to dinner in the cabin in high spirits. If the fair weather -lasts we shall see land to-morrow afternoon. To-morrow night we are to -have our concert. My young couple have turned up trumps: he plays the -old piano in the saloon famously, being an excellent musician, and she -sings, they say, nicely when not sea-sick. The Canadians on board assure -him he will be caught up as an organist directly to help out his other -means of livelihood. Then for Friday we are to have “Box and Cox” in the -cabin, played by the Captain and R------, who knows the part of - -Cox perfectly already, having played it at Cambridge. Mrs. Bouncer has -not yet been fixed on, but a nice little Canadian girl will, I think, -play it. - - - - -Tuesday evening. - -We had a fog this morning which lost us a couple of hours, seeing -however, as compensation, a fog rainbow--a colourless arch, which as you -looked over the side seemed to spring from the two ends of the ship. As -the fog cleared away and we went ahead we saw an iceberg to the north, -which soon looked like a great white lion lying on the horizon. During -the day, which has been wonderfully bright and cold, we have seen -several more icebergs and a lot of whales, one of which came quite -close to the ship. We sighted land about seven, and in six miles more -we should have passed into the Bay of St. Lawrence, when a rascally fog -came on and forced us to lay-to. The Captain can’t leave the deck, so we -didn’t have our concert, and we are all going to bed anxious to hear the -screw at work again. - - - - -Friday. - -We lay-to all last night, the jolly Captain up on the bridge, to watch -for any lifting of the fog, so that he might go ahead at once; but the -fog wouldn’t lift, and so we lay until eight this morning. Just before -breakfast it cleared, and away we went, and soon entered the strait -between Newfoundland and Labrador. By the time we had done breakfast -we were running close by a huge iceberg, like a great irregular wedding -cake, except near the water, where the colour changed from sugary white -into the most delicious green. There were nine other icebergs in sight -to the north, and a number of others round us, just showing above the -water, one like a great ichthyosaurus creeping along the waves, or a -white bear with a very long neck. Had we gone on last night it would -have been a perilous adventure. Soon afterwards we sighted the _North -American_, a companion ship belonging to the same Company, running some -miles in front of us to the north. We had a most exciting race, coming -abreast of her about twelve, and communicating by signals. Then we drew -ahead, and shall be in Quebec nearly a day before her. Then we played -shovel-board on deck, the air getting more balmy every minute as we drew -out of the ice region. We had a grand gathering of emigrants amidships, -and sung hymns, “Jesus, lover of my soul,” and others, with a few -words from G------, the busy parson, who has recovered from his long -sea-sickness at last, and is a famous fellow. The concert of the -Peruvians came off with a great _eclat_ after dinner. They put me in the -chair, and I introduced the performers with a slight discourse about the -Smith family (the Captain’s name is Smith), and at the end they voted -thanks to me, imparting the great success of the voyage to my remarkable -talent for making folk agree and pull together--very flattering, but -scarcely accurate. Then somebody discovered that it was a glorious -moonlight, so up we all went, and very soon there was a fiddler and a -dance on deck, which is only just over. We are well in the Gulf of St. -Lawrence, and all going as well as possible. - - - - -Mouth of the St. Lawrence. - -I am much pleased with the specimens of Canadians whom we have on -board. There are some twenty of them, with their wives, daughters, and -small boys. They are a quiet, well-informed, pleasant set of men, -and ready and pleased to talk of their country and her prospects. My -conversation runs to a great extent, as you may suppose, on the chances -of farming in Canada West, which is the part of the colony with the -greatest future, and I am much pleased with what I hear. Any man with a -capital of from £2000 to £3000 may do very well, and make money quite as -fast as is good for him, if he will only keep steady and work; and the -life is exceedingly fascinating for youngsters. - -There is a very nice fellow on board, a gentleman in the conventional -sense, who is returning from a run to Gloucestershire to see his -friends. He has been out for seven years only, two of which he spent as -an apprentice with a farmer, learning his trade. He is quite independent -now, and I would not wish to meet a better specimen of a man. - -I doubt whether you, being so orderly a party, would quite appreciate -what appears to be the favourite form of pleasuring amongst the -up-country farmers, but I own that it would have suited my natural -man down to the ground. Half a dozen of them, in the bright, still -wintertime, will agree that they haven’t seen Jones for some weeks, so -will give him “a surprise.” Accordingly they all start from their own -houses so as to meet at his farm about 9.30 or 10 o’clock--the time he -would be going to bed. - -They drive over in sledges, each taking his wife, sister, or sweetheart, -a good hamper of provisions and plenty of buffalo robes. Jones finds his -yard full of neighing horses and sledges as he is going to bed. If he -has already gone they knock him up. They then take possession of his -house and premises. The men litter down their horses, the women light -his fire and lay the supper, the only absolute rule being, that Jones -and his family and servants do nothing at all. - -They all sit down to supper and then dance till they are tired, and -then the women go to bed; and the men, if there are no beds for them, -as generally happens, roll themselves in their buffalo robes and go to -sleep. In the morning they breakfast, and then start away home again -over the snow in their sledges, after the men have cut up firewood -enough to keep Jones warm for a week. - -There is magnificent trout and salmon fishing, and deer, wolf, and bear -shooting, for those who like to seek it in the backwoods, and plenty of -time for sport when the farm work is over, or in the winter. At the big -towns, such as Montreal and Toronto, there is plenty of society, -and evidently cultivated society, though young Guardsmen may speak -shudderingly of colonists. - -Box and Cox, by the way, went off very well considering that the -Captain, who played Box, had been up on the bridge almost the whole of -the two previous nights, and consequently did not quite know his part. - - - - -Sunday 14th. - -Last night we danced on deck till nearly eleven under the most lovely -soft moon I have ever seen. This morning we are running up the St. -Lawrence along the southern bank, the northern being dim in the extreme -distance. There is a long continuous range of hills covered entirely -with forest, except just along the water’s edge, where it has been -cleared by the French-Canadian settlers. They live along the shore, too -close, I should say, to the water line for comfort; but as their chief -occupation is fishing, I have no doubt they have good reasons for their -selection. There is scarcely a quarter of a mile for the last twenty -or thirty miles, I should say, in which there is not a cottage, but the -villages are far between. The people are a simple, quiet folk, living -just as their fathers lived, happy, clean, contented, and stationary. -This last quality provokes the English of Upper Canada dreadfully, who -complain that the French make everything they require at home, and buy -nothing whatever which contributes to the revenue of the Dominion except -a little cheap tea. However, there is much to be said for the Frenchmen, -and I am very glad that our English people have constantly before them -the example of such a self-sufficing and unambitious life. In two or -three hours, probably before our morning service is over, the pilot will -be on board with papers, and we shall know what has been doing in the -great outside world. I was thinking of telegraphing to you, but as the -Company telegraph, and publish our arrival “all well” in the English -papers, it seems scarcely worth while. - -The pilot has just come on board and brought us Canadian papers with -copies of telegrams, and general vague rumours of terrible reverses for -France. I always looked for them, as you know. This frightful reign -of eighteen years, begun in perjury and bloodshed, and continued by -constant pandering to the worst tendencies of France, must have taken -the power and heart out of any nation. I pity the poor Canadians who -still hold themselves more French than anything else, as indeed they -are. They gather on deck and tell one another that the news is German, -that it is all mere rumour. They will find it too true in another day or -two. I am very glad to hear that the Orleans princes are now to go back. -They are a family of very gallant and able gentlemen, and ought to be -with France at this moment. Wrong as I think her, I hope she may soon be -able to rally, shake off the charlatans whom she has allowed to misrule -her, and conclude an honourable peace. The pilot-boat went back at once, -and when she lands our safe arrival will be telegraphed at once, so that -I hope you may see it before to-morrow evening--if you only know where -to look in the newspaper. I often think how very different those short -announcements at the head of the Shipping news will seem to me in the -future. - -“Allan Line. The _Peruvian_ arrived off Father Point yesterday. All -well.” - - - - -Wednesday. - -Events have been crowding us during the last thirty-six hours--bless -me, I mean the last sixty hours--I had positively written Tuesday -instead of Wednesday at the top of this. I let my watch run down on the -_Peruvian_, as it was too provoking to have to put it back thirty-five -minutes every morning. Since then time has gone all whiz! however, I -shall pick up the time now and get to my bearings, at least I shall try. -Well, all Sunday afternoon we ran up the glorious St. Lawrence, past -the mouths of what we should call big rivers, past the Canadian -watering-places, past one long straggling village except where the hills -are too steep or the soil absolutely barren. The view is not unlike many -Scotch ones, substituting scrub or stunted forest for heather. This of -course is a great disadvantage in a picturesque point of view, but it is -more than compensated by the great river. I am very glad I came to the -new world up the St. Lawrence. Nothing could have brought the startling -contrast of the old and new world so vividly home to me as this steaming -literally day after day up the stream, and finding it still at 700 miles -from the mouth two miles broad, with anchorage for the largest ships -that float. We went the round of the ship with the Captain after dinner, -to see the wonderful detail of the storerooms, and the huge fire-system -which goes glowing on through all the voyage. The sight of the -twenty-five great furnaces glowing, and consuming fifty-two tons of coal -a day, quite scared several of the ladies, who seemed to think that the -Peruvian was flying, I should say sailing, presumptuously in the face -of Providence not to have caught fire during the voyage. Luckily we were -within a few hours of port, so their anxiety was not of long duration. -I went to bed for the last time in my crib on the top of the drawers, -leaving word for the quartermaster to call me when we were getting near -Quebec. Accordingly I was roused at about three from one of the sleeps -without a turn even (by reason that there is no room to turn) which one -gets on board ship, and scuffled up on deck in my trousers and fur coat -to find myself in the most perfect moonlight rounding the last point -below Quebec. Then up went three rockets, and as we slacked our speed -at the side of the wharf right opposite the citadel, two guns were fired -and the voyage of the Peruvian was over. My packing was all done, so -while the vessel was being unladen I went quietly to bed again and slept -for another two or three hours amid all the din. Between six and seven -I turned out again and had a good breakfast on board, after which came -leave-takings, and then those of us who were not going on by train and -were ready to start, went on board a little tug ferry-boat and were -paddled across to Quebec. I have sent a small map to show you how the -land lies. Our ferry-boat took us over from Port Levi to the quay just -under the Citadel along the line I have dotted, and we at once chartered -two carriages to visit the falls of Montmorency, to which you will see a -line drawn on the map and which is about six miles from Quebec. Oh, the -air! You know what it is when we land at Dieppe, or at Brussels, or -Aix. Well, all that air is fog, depressing wet blanket compared to this -Canadian nectar. I really doubt whether it would not be almost worth -while to emigrate merely for the exquisite pleasure of the act of living -in this country. - - - - -Montreal, 19th August 1870. - -I must get on with my journal or shall fall altogether astern--you -have no idea how hard it is even to find time to write a few lines home; -however if I can only make up the time to-day I hope to keep down the -arrears more regularly hereafter. We had a long day of sightseeing in -and about Quebec. First we drove down to the Montmorency Falls, 220 feet -high and very beautiful, then back to the Citadel, which rises some 600 -or 700 feet right above the river--a regular little Gibraltar; -then we went off to the Heights of Abraham, at the back of the -Citadel, where Wolfe fought his battle and was killed after scaling the -cliffs in the early morning. Then we drove down into the town, and had -lunch at a restaurant, and walked about to see the place. Well worth -seeing it is; a quaint, old, thoroughly French town of the last century -dropped down into the middle of the new world. In the evening we went -on board the great river steamer, and came away all night up the St. -Lawrence to Montreal. There were 1000 passengers on board, every one of -whom had an excellent berth--mine was broader and lighter than that on -the _Peruvian._ We were not the least crowded in the splendid saloon -(some 150 feet long), and the open galleries running all round the ship -in two tiers. I preferred the latter, though there was music, Yankee and -Canadian, in the saloon, and spent my evening till bedtime out in the -stern gallery looking at the most superb moonlight on the smooth water -you can conceive. We had a small English party there, and there were -half a dozen constantly changing groups round us. The girls have -evidently much more freedom than at home, at least more than they had -in our day--two or three would come out with as many young men, and sit -round in a ring. The men lighted cigars, and then they would all set to -work singing glees, songs, or what not, and chaffing and laughing away -for half an hour perhaps, after which they would disappear into the -saloon. There was a regular bar on board at which all manner of cool -drinks were sold. We tried several, which I thought, I must say, very -nasty, especially brandy-smash. After a most comfortable night I awoke -between five and six as we were nearing Montreal. The city is very fine, -the river still two miles broad, and ocean steamer drawing twenty feet -and more of water able to lie right up against the quay. S------, a -friend of Sir J. Rose’s, a great manufacturer here, whom I had taken to -the “Cosmopolitan,” was in waiting on the landing-place, and took us at -once up to his charming house on the hill (the mountain they call it) -at the back of the city. He is a man of forty-three or forty-four; his -wife, a very pleasant woman a little younger, and adopted daughter, -Alice (a very sweet girl of nineteen, just home from an English school), -form the whole family. I can’t tell you how kind they are and how -perfectly at home they have made us. After breakfast we went down to see -the city, got photographed with the rest of the above-named Peruvians, -had a delicious lunch of fried oysters at a luncheon shop kept by a -Yankee, washed it down with a drink called John Collins, a pleasant, -cold, weak, scented kind of gin and water. Sir Geo. Carter and Sir Fras. -Hinks, two of the present Government, both of whom I had met in England, -came to dinner, also Holton the leading senator of the Opposition, and -the two young Roses, one bringing his pretty young wife, and we had a -long and very interesting political talk afterwards. Nothing could have -suited me better, as there are many points of Canadian politics I am -very anxious to get views on. We didn’t get to bed till 12.30, so I had -no time to write. On Wednesday we saw more of the city which I shan’t -attempt to describe till I can sit by you with photographs and explain, -lunched at the Club, of which we have been made honorary members, with -a large party of merchants and other big folk, and then at three were -picked up by Mrs. S.---, who drove us up the river to a place called -Lachine, past the rapids (see Canadian boat-song), “The rapids are near -and the daylight’s past.” Lachine gets its queer name from the first -French Missionaries who started up the St. Lawrence to get to China, and -for some unaccountable reason thought they had reached the flowery land -when they got to this place, so settled down and called it China. The -air was still charming, but the sky was beginning to get less bright, -and Mrs. S---- and A------agreed that there must be a forest burning -somewhere. And so it proved, for in a few hours the whole sky was -covered with a smoke-cloud, light but not depressing, like our fogs, but -still so dense that we could scarcely see across the river. We got back -in time for dinner, to which came Colonel Buller, now commanding the -Rifles here; Hugh Allan, the head of the great firm of ship-owners to -whom the _Peruvian_ and all the rest of the Allan line packets belong; -and several young Canadians. It was very pleasant again, and again I -got a heap of information on Canadian subjects from Allan, who is a -longheaded able old Scotchman, the founder of the immense prosperity of -himself and all his family. He has his private steam yacht and a great -place on a lake near here, wherein is a private telegraph, so that he -can wire all over the world from his own hall. Prince Arthur went to -stay with him when he was out here in the late autumn and spring, and -the Queen wired him every day while he was there. Early next morning -S------, - -Miss A------, I, and R------ were off by rail to a station ten or twelve -miles up the river, where we waited till the Montreal market-boat came -down and picked us up to shoot the rapids. We had a very pleasant run -to Quebec, and the shooting the rapids is very interesting, but neither -dangerous nor even exciting. The river widens out perhaps to two and a -half miles in width, and for some mile or mile and a half breaks into -these rapids, which boil and rush along at a great pace, and in quite a -little boat would no doubt keep the steerer and oarsmen on the stretch. -The approach to Montreal under the great Victoria Bridge, two miles -long, is very noble. We got back to breakfast at ten, and afterwards -went up the mountain at the back of the town, but the haze from the -burning forest quite spoiled the view. The carriage is announced, so I -must close. - - - - -Montreal, 20th August 1870. - -I hurried up my letters yesterday, so as to bring my journal down to -the day I was writing on, fearing lest otherwise I should never catch -the thread again. I doubt whether I told you anything about this very -fine city, in the suburbs of which we are stopping, and which we leave -to-day. Well, I scarcely know how to begin to give you an idea of it. It -isn’t the least like an English or indeed any European town, the reason -being, I take it, that it has been built with the necessity of meeting -extremes of heat and cold, which we never get. Except in the heart of -the city, where the great business streets are, there are trees along -the sides of all the thoroughfares--maples, which give real shade, and -are in many places indeed too thick, and too near the houses for comfort -I should say--as near as the plane-tree was to our drawing-room window -at 33. This arrangement makes walking about very pleasant to me, even -when the thermometer stands at 90° in the shade as it did yesterday. -Then instead of a stone foot-pavement you have almost everywhere boards, -timber being the most plentiful production of the country. Walking along -the boards in the morning you see at every door a great lump of ice, -twenty pounds weight or so, lying there for the maid to take in when -she comes out to clean. This is supplied by the ice merchants for a -few shillings a year. The houses are square, built generally of a fine -limestone found all over the island (Montreal is an island thirty-six -miles long by nine wide), and have all green open shutter-blinds, which -they keep constantly shut all day, as in Greece, to keep out the heat, -and double windows to keep out the cold. The roofs are generally covered -with tin instead of tiles or slates, and all the church steeples, of -which there are a very large number, are tinned, as you remember we saw -them in parts of Austria and Hungary. There are magnificent stores of -dry goods, groceries, etc., but scarcely any shops in our sense. No -butcher, milkman, greengrocer, etc., calls at the door, and the ladies -have all to go down to the market or send there. Nothing can be better -than the living, but Mrs. S------ complains that it is very hard work -for _hausfraus_, and I have heard Lady K------ say the same thing. This -house is in one of the shaded avenues on the slopes of the mountain, -two miles I should say from the market. Mrs. S------- drives down every -marketday and buys provisions, market-days being twice a week, but the -stalls are open on other days also, so that if a flood of company -comes in on the intermediate days, the anxious housewife need not be -absolutely done for. The living is as good as can be, not aspiring -to first-rate French cookery, but equal to anything you find in good -English houses. Prices are very reasonable except for fancy articles of -clothing, etc. Furs, which you would expect to find cheap, are at least -as high as in London, and R------made an investment in gloves for which -he paid six shillings a pair. The city is the quietest and best-behaved -I ever was in. We dined at the mess of the 60th Rifles last night, and -walked home through the heart of the city at 10.30. Every one had gone -to bed, apparently, for there wasn’t a light in fifty houses and we -literally met no one--not half a dozen people certainly in the whole -distance. Altogether I am very much impressed with the healthiness of -the life, morally and physically, and can scarcely imagine any country I -would sooner start in were I beginning life again. - - - - -Tuesday morning, 23rd August 1870. - -Well, to continue, on Saturday we broke up from Montreal, having I -think seen very thoroughly all the persons and things best worth seeing -in the place. Our host had arranged that we should go and spend Sunday -with Mr. Hugh Allan, the head of the family which has established the -line of mail steamers to Liverpool and Glasgow. He has been forty years -out here, and when he came Montreal had only 17,000 inhabitants, now it -has 150,000; there was scarcely water for a 200 ton ship to lie at the -wharf, now you can see steamers of 2000 tons and upwards always there. -Hugh Allan is evidently a very rich man now. He has a big house on the -mountain behind Montreal, and this place where I am now writing from, on -Memphremagog Lake, which if you have a good map, you will find half -in Canada and half in the New England state of Vermont. It is a lovely -inland sea, about thirty-five miles long and varying from one to three -miles broad. Mr. Allan’s house, where he entertained Prince Arthur in -the spring, stands on the top of a high well-wooded promontory, about -half-way up. It is a good, commodious, gentleman’s house, with deep -verandahs, thoroughly comfortable, but without pretence or show of any -kind. There is a large wooden out-building called the Hermitage, about -one hundred yards off, divided entirely into bedrooms, so that there is -room for lots of guests besides the family, seven or eight of whom are -here. In another building there is an American bowling-alley, and an -excellent croquet ground before the house. Mr. Allan keeps a nice steam -yacht, which runs about the lake daily with any one who likes to go, and -there are half a dozen rowing boats, so time need not hang heavily on -the most restless hands. I accepted the invitation, as a few days at -Memphremagog is evidently considered the thing to do by all Canadians, -and the last twenty miles or so of the railway to Newport (Vermont), the -place at the foot of the lake at which you embark, has only just been -finished, right through the forest, so that it was a good chance of -seeing the beginnings of colonial life in the bush. And I am very glad -that I did come, for certainly if the journey (120 miles altogether) had -been planned for the purpose, it couldn’t have been more interesting. -After leaving Montreal we travelled I should say for from thirty to -forty miles through reclaimed country, dotted with French villages and -the homesteads of well-to-do farmers. Then we gradually slipped into -half-cleared woods, and then into virgin forest. Presently we came -across a great block of the forest on fire, but in broad daylight the -sight is not the least grand, though unpleasant from the smoke, and -melancholy from the waste and mischief which the fires do. I think I -told you in my last that the forests about Ottawa, the capital of the -Dominion, were on fire last week. The fire became so serious that great -fears were entertained for the town, the militia and volunteers were -called out, and a special train with fire-engines was sent up from -Montreal. Scores of poor settlers were in the streets, having with -difficulty escaped with their lives, and last of all several wretched -bears trotted out of the burning woods into the town. The fire we passed -through was not at all on this scale, and didn’t seem likely to get -ahead. There were the marks of fires of former years on all sides in -these forests. Tall stems by hundreds, standing up charred and gaunt out -of the middle of the bright green maple underwood, which is fast growing -up round them, and in a very short time makes the tangle as thick as -ever. Before long we came to small clearings of from three to four -acres, on each of which was a rough wooden shanty, with half a dozen -wild, brown, healthy-looking children rolling and scrambling about it, -and standing up in their single garments to cheer the train. On these -plots the trees had all been felled about two feet from the ground, and -the brushwood cleared away, and there were crops of Indian corn, oats, -or buckwheat growing all round the stumps. Then we came to plots which -had been occupied longer, where the shanty had grown into a nice-sized -cottage, with a good-sized outhouse near. Here all the stumps had been -cleared, and the plot divided by fences, and three or four cows would -be poking about. Then we came to a fine river and ran along the bank, -passing here and there sawmills of huge size, and stopping at one or two -large primitive villages, gathered round a manufactory. In short, in -the day’s run we saw Canadian life in all its phases, ending with a -delicious twelve miles’ run up the lake in Mr. Allan’s steam yacht, with -the whole sky flickering with Northern lights, which shot and played -about for our special delight. Our railway party were Mr. - -Allan; Mr. and Mrs. S------, and Miss B------, their adopted daughter; -General Lindsay, whom I knew well in England and like very much; Colonel -Eyre, his military secretary, and ourselves. Then there are eight -children here. “We had a most luxurious car, with a little sitting-room -in which we each had an easy chair, and there were two most -enticing-looking little bedrooms, everything as clean and neat as you -could have it, and we could walk out on to a platform at either end to -look at the view. There was a boy also in attendance in a little sort -of spare room where the luggage went, who ministered any amount of -iced water to any one who called. This is decidedly the most luxurious -travelling I ever had, but then the car was the private one of the -manager of the Grand Trunk Railway; and the democratic cars in which -every one else went, and in which indeed we had to travel for the last -few miles, were very different affairs. Fancy my intense delight on -Sunday morning, as I walked from the Hermitage up to the house to -breakfast through some flower-beds, to see two humming-birds, poising -themselves before flower after flower while probing and trying the -blooms with their long bills, and then springing back with a stroke of -their lovely little tails, and whisking off to the next bloom. They -were green and brown, not so lovely in colour as many you have seen in -collections, but exquisite as eye need ask to look at. The humming-birds -have been certainly my greatest natural history treat as yet, not -excepting the whales. I had seen a whale before, a small one, in the -Hebrides, and I had never seen a hummingbird except stuffed; moreover -I expected to see whales, but not humming-birds. We saw a fine great -bald-headed eagle to-day, too, sailing over the lake, but his flight was -not anything like so fine as those we saw soaring over the Iron Gates as -we went spinning down the Danube nine years ago. We have a very charming -visit here steaming about the lake, driving along the banks, playing -croquet and bowls and billiards, and laughing, chaffing, and loafing to -any extent. The family are very nice, and I hope he will soon be made a -baronet and one of the first grandees of the Dominion. To-morrow morning -at five we start for Boston in the steam yacht, which takes us down to -Newport at the end of the lake. So by the evening I shall perhaps get -a letter from you. How I do thirst for home news after three weeks’ -absence. - - - - -Elmwood, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 25th August 1870. - -I forget just where I left off, whether I had brought my journal up to -our leaving Memphremagog or not. The last day there was as pleasant -as the rest. The young folks played croquet and American bowls all the -morning, while I lay on the grass watching for humming-birds and talking -occasional politics to any one who would join me. At about twelve a -retired judge, Day by name, who lives four or five miles off, drove over -with a member of the Government (I forget his name) who was to start -from the pier below the house in the lake steamer. Mr. Allan owns this -steamer, which stops at his pier whenever he runs up a flag; so you -see the privileged classes are not extinct by any means in the British -dominion in the new world. Now the Judge, having a seat in his light -sort of phaeton, proposed to drive me over to the post-office, about -four miles off, where he was going, and to bring me back to luncheon. -So I embarked behind his two strong little trotting nags and had a most -interesting drive. The roads were not worse than many Devonshire lanes, -and where the pitches were steepest, the stout little nags made nothing -of them. - -The views of the lake were exquisite, and the Judge one of the -pleasantest of men. He had been employed in 1865 on a mission to -Washington, and gave me very graphic accounts of his interviews with -Lincoln and the other leading men there, and confirmed many of my own -views as to the comparative chances of the two great sections of our -race in the new world in the future. He is less apprehensive of Canada -joining the United States than most men of his standing, and I think -has good reason for his confidence. Material interest will perhaps for -a time (or rather, after a time, for at present it is very doubtful on -which side they weigh) sway in the direction of annexation to the United -States, but the ablest and most energetic of the younger men of the -cultivated classes are so strongly bent on developing a distinct -national life, that I expect to see them carry their country for -independence rather than annexation, when the time comes, if it ever -should, of a final cutting of the ropes which bind them to us. After -luncheon we went off in the steam yacht to a bay in the lake, and then -in row boats four or five miles up the bay into the heart of the hills, -where we saw bald-headed eagles, and black and white king-fishers -five times the size of ours, and after a very interesting and pleasant -excursion got back to dinner, finishing the evening with dancing. At -five next morning we heard the steamer’s whistle calling us. The young -ladies were up to give us a cup of coffee and parting good words, and -then we-steamed down for Newport, where we were to take the rail through -the Connecticut valley to Boston. On the Newport wharf which joins the -station we said good-bye to Allan and Stephen, and shall carry away most -charming memories of our stay in Canada. General Lindsay and Eyre went -with us, and their companionship made the journey very agreeable, though -it was as hot as the Lower Danube, and the dust more uncomfortable and -dirtying than any we have at home. Most part of the way the soil is -as light and sandy as that about Dorking, and the trains seem to raise -greater clouds of it. - -The greater part of the journey was along the banks of the Merrimac, a -fine river with as much water as the Thames at Richmond, I should -say, but spread over a bed generally twice as broad. We saw the White -Mountains at a distance on our left, and passed through a number of -flourishing towns. The thing that struck me most was the apparent fusion -into one class of the whole community. As you know, every one goes into -the same long carriages, holding from sixty to eighty people. Of these -there were four or often five on our train, and I often passed through -them (as you may do, up the middle, without disturbing the passengers, -who sit in pairs with their faces to the engine on each side of the -passage), as there was a great deal of local traffic, seventy people -often getting out at a station, I thus saw really a very considerable -number of people on this first day in the States, and certainly should -have been exceedingly puzzled to sort them in the broadest way, either -into rich and poor, gentlemen or ladies (in the conventional sense) and -common people, or any other radical division. I certainly saw at some -stations children running about without shoes, and workmen in as -dirty blouses as those of Europe; but in the trains they were all well -dressed, quiet, self-respecting people, without any pretence to polish, -or any approach to vulgarity. The bad taste in women’s dress, which I am -told to expect elsewhere, does not certainly prevail in New England. All -the women wore neat short dresses, with moderate trimmings according to -taste; but I did not see an extravagant garment or, I am bound to add, a -really pretty one along the whole line. On the whole I thought the women -as good looking as any I have ever travelled amongst, but paler and -sadder, or at any rate quieter, than a like number of Englishwomen. -Once or twice men in stove-pipe hats (the ordinary tile of so-called -civilisation), and wearing perhaps better cloth and whiter linen than -the average, got in, but not one whom you would have picked out as a -person bred and brought up in a different way, and occupying a station -above or apart from the rest, as you see in every train in England. -It may have been chance, but certainly it was startling. Then another -surprise. They are certainly the least demonstrative people so far -as strangers are concerned that I have ever been amongst. I had the -prevailing idea that a Yankee was a note of interrogation walking about -the world, and besides craving for all sorts of information about you, -was always ready to impart to you the particulars of his own birth, -parentage, and education, and his opinion on everything, “from Adam’s -fall to Huldy’s bonnet.” Well, I left our party purposely several times -on the journey to try the experiment of sitting on one of the small -seats carrying two only with a Yankee. In not one single case did either -of those I sat by say a single word to me, and when I commenced they -just answered my question very civilly and relapsed into total silence. -I may add that this first experience has been confirmed since, both in -street and railway cars. - -We got to Boston at about seven, and then had our first experience of -the price of things here. It is only four miles out to Lowell’s, who -lives on the other side of Cambridge, but we were obliged to pay five -dollars for a carriage to get out there. We could get nothing but a -great handsome family coach with two horses, and in that, accordingly, -out we lumbered. Cambridge is a very pretty suburb of Boston, the centre -point of it being Harvard College, consisting of four or five large -blocks of red brick building and a stone chapel, standing in the midst -of some fine trees. Elmwood Avenue in which Lowell lives is about half -a mile beyond the College--a broad road shaded on both sides by tows -of trees planted as in the Boulevards, as indeed is done along all the -roads. The Professor’s house is a good, roomy, wooden one standing in -the midst of some thirty acres of his own land, on which stand many good -trees, and especially some pre-revolutionary English elms of which he is -very proud. He was sitting on the piazza of the house with his wife and -Holmes’ brother, taking a pipe and not the least expecting us. The Irish -maid told us to “_sit right down_” while she went to fetch him. In a -minute he and his wife came and put us at our ease, explaining that no -letter had ever come since we had landed. Mabel was away at the sea for -a few days. - - - - -Elmwood Avenue, Cambridge, 31s£ August 1870. - -I managed with some difficulty and scramble to get off a letter to -you by yesterday’s post, which _ought_ to go by steamer from New York -to-day, bringing my narrative up to our arrival here. We found Lowell on -his verandah with his wife and friend, and sat there talking till ten. I -am not the least disappointed with him, Henry Cowper notwithstanding. I -have never met a more agreeable talker, and his kindness to me is quite -unbounded. Then he has not a grain of vanity in his composition, but is -as simple and truthful as the best kind of boy. The house is a wooden -one, as four-fifths of the houses in New England are. It is roomy, airy, -and furnished with quaint old heavy pieces, bureaus like ours, and solid -heavy little mahogany tables, all dating from the last century. The -plate in the same way is all of the Queen Anne shape, like your little -tea-service and my grandmother’s milk jugs and tea-pots which -George has. The plainness and simplicity of the living, too, is most -attractive. We breakfast at 8.30, beginning with porridge, and following -up with eggs, some hot dish, corn cakes, toast and fruit. Then there is -no regular meal till six--a terribly late and fashionable dinner hour -here, as the prevalent hour is two or three--and afterwards we have a -cup of coffee and crackers (good plain biscuits) and a glass of toddy -at ten. Miss Mabel and others have given us a desperate idea of the -difficulties as to service, but they certainly do not exist in this -establishment just now. The principal servant that we see is an Irish -girl, Rose by name, who reminds me of one of Mrs. Cameron’s servants -except that she is far more diligent. The ingenious way in which she hid -away all my wardrobe in the ample cupboards and recesses of the bureau -in my room was a perfect caution, and she whisks away my things and gets -them beautifully washed, wholly refusing to allow me to pay for them. -The parlour-maid is a little, slight, ladylike girl, who certainly is -not a first-rate waiter, but then there is no need of one. The dinner -is confined to one thing at a time--soup, sometimes fish, a joint, or -chickens, and a sweet. The Professor opens his own wine at the table and -passes it round, and very good it is, but one scarcely needs it in this -climate. A cook whose acquaintance I have also made, and an Irishman who -has been thirty years on the place in a roomy cottage, and attends to -the cows, garden, and farm of thirty acres, complete the establishment. -Mrs. Lowell, who is a very nice, quiet, and clever woman, is very fond -of flowers, and manages to keep a few beds going about the house, -and there are a number of very fine trees, so that though there is no -pretence to the neatness and finish of English grounds and garden, the -place has a thoroughly homely, cultivated atmosphere and look which is -very attractive, and the whole town of Cambridge seems to be made up of -just such houses. We have lost no time in lionising men and places. -On Thursday we took the car into Boston and ascended the monument on -Bunker’s Hill, 290 steps up a dark spiral staircase. Lowell had never -been up it before, nor indeed has any native as far as I can find -out. The view at the top repays you thoroughly for the grind with the -thermometer at eighty in the shade. Boston Harbour, where the tea was -thrown out of the English ships in 1775, and> the whole town and suburbs -lie below you like a map, and are very striking. After descending we -hunted up a number of people, including young Holmes, our Colonel, -who was as charming as ever, absorbed in his law at which he is doing -famously, and resolved in his first holiday to revisit England. He came -out to dine, and fraternised immensely with R----, and with him a young -Howells, the editor of the Atlantic Monthly, whom Conway had brought to -our house years ago, and I had entirely forgotten. However he is a very -nice fellow, and I don’t think I betrayed my obliviousness. Next day, -Friday, we had a long country drive in the morning through broad avenues -lined with three fascinating wooden houses, each standing with plenty of -elbow-room in its own grounds, up to a wooded hill from which we got -a splendid view of the city. Then I went into Boston and called on the -Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, who is one of the best talkers I ever -met, and quite worthy to be the Colonel’s father. He is one of Motley’s -oldest friends, and deeply grieved, as all good men here, at his recall. -His chief talk was of his memories of his English visits, and the -folk he met, and so I find it with all the best men and women here. -Notwithstanding the bitterness which our press created during the war, I -am convinced that with a very little tact and judicious handling on our -side the international relations may be easily made all we can wish as -far as New England is concerned. Afterwards I sauntered about the town, -looking at some good statues in their park (Boston Common), and letting -the place sink into me. The Common is about the size, I should say, of -Green Park, but of a regular shape. It lies on the side of a hill at the -top of which are the State House and other public buildings and -private houses. It is well wooded with fine American and English elms -(pre-revolutionary, they say, but I don’t believe it. They are not used -to our elms, and I doubt whether any of these are 100 years old) on the -upper part and along the sides; the middle is a great playground for the -boys, who are diligent there all day at base-ball, our rounders, which -I should think must spoil the enjoyment of the place for ladies and -children. However they can always take to the pretty gardens at the -lower end, in which is a very fine equestrian statue of Washington, and -one of Everett by Story, by no means fine in my opinion. How should it -be, when he insisted on being taken with his arm right up in the air, -his favourite attitude in speaking, and stands up in that attitude -in ordinary buttoned frock coat and trousers? Everett has not been a -trustworthy public man to my mind, and is simply nothing unless it is -an orator, and I can’t say I think it wise to put him up there on the -palpable stump. But we have made so many mistakes in our public statues -that I suppose it must run in the blood. The best houses in the town, -really charming residences, line the two sides and top of the Common, -and fine stores the bottom. I have never seen a place I would so soon -live in out of England as in one of these houses looking on to Boston -Common. The old business town is being rebuilt just as London--red brick -two or three story houses giving way everywhere to five or six stories -of granite or stone. The town has as old and settled a look and feeling -about it as any I know; but they have few old buildings, and I am afraid -are going to pull down the most characteristic, the old State House, -because it has ceased to be used for public purposes, and its removal -will make a fine broad place and relieve the traffic of several -narrow streets in the heart of the town. It will be a sad pity, and so -unnecessary here, for they might carry it off bodily to any other site. -You know how we have often heard, and wondered, scarce believing, of the -raising bodily of the great hotels, etc., at Chicago. Well, suddenly, in -Boston I came across a great market, three stories high (the upper part -being occupied as houses) and 150 or 200 feet long, as big, say, as -three houses in Grosvenor Square, which they were moving bodily back on -rollers so as to widen the street. There were the wooden ways and -the rollers, and the great block with all its marketing and living -inhabitants lying on them, and already some twelve feet on its journey. -It did not look any the worse for its journey unless it were in the -foundations, where there were a few places which had been filled up, I -saw, with new brickwork. The long pit twelve feet deep which has been -left between the market and the street will now be turned into cellars, -over which the new pavement will pass. On the Saturday we dined with the -Saturday Club at 2.30 P.M., where were all the New England notables now -in town. I sat on the right of Sumner, the State Senator, who was in the -chair, with Boutwell, the Secretary of the Treasury, on my right, and -Emerson on the other side of Sumner. So you may fancy how I enjoyed -the sitting. Emerson is perfectly delightful: simple, wise, and full -of humour and sunshine. The number of good Yankee stories I shall bring -back unless they burst me will be a caution. Forbes, a great Boston -merchant who owns an island seventy-two miles long off the coast close -to Nantucket and Cape Cod, which you will find in the map, came up and -claimed to have seen me for five minutes when I had the small-pox in -1863. - -He knows J------ well, and insisted on carrying us off to his island -that night, that we might attend a huge campmeeting on a neighbouring -island on Sunday. So he drove up here with us and we packed--the dear -Professor agreeing that we ought to do it--went down sixty miles by -rail, slept on his yacht, and found ourselves in the morning at his -wharf on the island. Your second letter came to hand from Cromer when we -returned here, and has as usual lighted up my life. - - - - -Cambridge, 2nd September 1870. - -We are off this afternoon for Newport on our way to New York, and so -south and west. The express man will be here directly for my luggage, -which will be a little curtailed, as these dear kind people insist on -our returning, and leaving all we don’t want in our rooms. So I shall -drop my beaver, leaving it with the most serious admonitions in the -charge of Rose, the Irish girl, who is a character. I will now take up -the thread of my story, merely remarking that what you seem to think -a dull catalogue of small doings at a small watering-place is quite -unspeakably delightful to me away here. On the wharf at Nashont Island -we found the two young F------s, the elder a colonel in the war, and -five months a prisoner in the South, the younger, Malcolm, just left -college. I never saw two finer young men, both of them models of -strength. They had come down to meet us and bathe, so we stopped and -had a splendid header off the wharf and a swim in the bay, after careful -inquiries by R------ as to sharks, to which young F------ replied with -a twinkle in his eye, that they didn’t lose _many_ friends that way. We -walked up to the house after our dip, a large wooden building, with deep -verandahs and sun-blinds, furnished quite plainly, even roughly, but -capable of holding nearly any number of people. We were about eighteen -at breakfast: Mrs. F------ a handsome, clever, elderly lady, born a -Quaker, and with their charm of manner, who made tea for the party, and -on whose right I sat. Opposite her was her husband with Mrs. L------, -the young widow of Lowell’s nephew Charles, the famous soldier, on his -left, and therefore opposite me. On my right, a young woman, a cousin of -the F------s, a Mrs. P------, whose husband sat down towards the end of -the table, the manager of a Western railway, who has given us free -passes over his line. Colonel F------, the eldest son, was Lowell’s -major, and served with distinction in the war, in which he was taken -prisoner, and spent five months in Southern prisons; his wife, a buxom -young woman with very good eyes, is Emerson’s daughter, and her brother, -a bright boy of twenty-two or twenty-three, was near me. There were two -daughters of the family, and two other girls and several boys, all -pleasant and easy in hand; but the gem of the party was the young widow. -She is not actually pretty, but with a face full of the nobleness of -sorrow, which has done its work. I have seldom been more touched than in -watching her gentle, cheerful ways, and her sympathy with all the bright -life around her. Since the war, in which her husband and only brother R. -S------(who commanded the first coloured regiment from Massachusetts, -and was buried under his negroes at Fort Wagner) were killed, she has -devoted herself to the Freedmen, and is Honorary Secretary to the -Society for educating them. After breakfast we started in the yacht for -the neighbouring island, on which the great Methodist camp-meeting was -going on. This Sunday was the great day. They have occupied this island -for some years, and have built there a whole town of pretty little -wooden houses like big Chinese toys, dotted about amongst the trees. -Most of them consist of only one long room, divided by curtains in the -middle. The front half opens to the street, but raised one step above it -is the sitting-room, and the inmates sleep in the back, behind the -curtains. A few houses have a story above; but F------ bought a lot of -photographs for us, which will show you the style of house better than a -page of description. There were literally thousands of people on the -island, upwards of two thousand collected in a huge circular tent in the -middle of the houses, where a preacher was shouting to them. We sat on -the skirts of the congregation and listened for some time, but as he was -only talking wildly about Nebuddah, Positivism, Theodore Parker, and -other heresies and heretics, I was not edified, and got no worship till -he had done, when we all stood up and sang the doxology, which was very -impressive. I was much disappointed at the gathering in a religious -point of view. It was a rare chance for a man with a living word in him, -those thousands of decent, sober, attentive New England men and women. -They told me that in the evening it would be much more interesting, when -there would be great singing of hymns, and many persons would tell how -they came to experience religion as they call it; but we could not stay -for this. The meeting lasts for weeks, and is in fact an excuse for the -gathering at a pretty sea-place in the early autumn of a number of good -folk who would think the ordinary watering-places ungodly, but have a -longing for a break in their ordinary colourless lives. We sailed back -in time for early dinner, meeting on the way huge steamers packed with -passengers for the campmeeting, till they were top heavy. Next day we -spent in, fishing off the rocks for blue-fish, and in a beautiful little -lake of three-quarters of a mile long (one of several in the island) for -bass. I caught a blue fish of nine lbs., the biggest and strongest I -have ever caught, also the only bass which was taken; so I naturally -crowed loudly. The island hours are: breakfast, eight o’clock or half -past eight; dinner, two or three; tea, with cold meat, half-past six or -seven. After tea on both evenings we got into full swing on the war. I -found Mr. F------ and his wife deeply grieved and prejudiced as to our -conduct, our feeling to them as a nation, etc., and set myself to work -hard to remove all this as far as I could. As he is a very energetic and -influential man it is worth taking any amount of trouble about, and I -think I succeeded. In the evenings the young folk sang a number of the -war songs, several composed by or for the negro soldiers, going to -famous airs, and full of humour and pathos. The March through Georgia is -very spirited, and a version of the “John Brown” March, which seems to -have superseded “We’ll hang Jef Davies,” etc., exceedingly touching--at -least I know it was so to me, as all the young folk sang-- - - He hath sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat, - - He is sifting out the souls of men before His judgment seat: - - Be swift, my soul, to welcome Him! be jubilant, my feet. - - In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, - - With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me. - - As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free. - - Our God is marching on. - -To think of what that sweet young woman had gone through (the news of -her husband’s death at the head of his brigade, was read by her in a -newspaper), and to see her sitting there calmly and trying to join -in the chorus, was quite too much for me. However, nobody noticed my -emotion. Our last morning, Tuesday, was spent in a famous wild ride over -the island. After breakfast we found seven very excellent riding horses -(three with sidesaddles) at the door. At home there would have been -three grooms, here each horse has a leathern strap fixed to the bit, -which you just buckle round his neck till you want to stop, and then -fasten it to the nearest tree or lamp-post. The whole turn-out is of -course rough, but I don’t wish to see nicer ladies’ hacks than the three -which the two Miss F------s and Mrs. P------ rode. We sailed back in the -yacht to another little port, a few miles north of New Bedford, F------ -having provided us as a parting present with free passes over almost all -the Western railways, which will save me at least £20 I should think. He -is Chairman of several, and so can do it without any trouble. We found -the dear Lowells expecting us, and my second letter also waiting, so you -may think that I had a joyful evening. Next day, Wednesday, we drove to -Concord to dine with Judge Hoar, the late Attorney-General of the United -States, a very able, fine fellow. We passed over classic ground, the -very road along which the English troops marched in April 1776 to -destroy the stores, when the first collision of the War of Independence -took place at Concord Bridge and in the village of Lexington. You may -perhaps remember in the second series of the _Biglow Papers_ “Sumthin’ -in the Pastoral Line,” in which old Concord Bridge and the monument -which has been put up to commemorate the fight, talk together over the -_Trent_ affair. The Judge’s two sons, very nice young fellows, pulled us -up Concord River, which runs at the bottom of their garden, to the spot, -and on the way (which is very pretty) we saw lots of tortoises sitting -and basking on the stones, and popping in when we approached, and heard -a lot of capital Yankee stories from the Judge. Dinner at three; Emerson -came, and there were two Miss H------s, and a Miss S------, a handsome -girl, sister of the best oar in the Harvard boat of last year. I enjoyed -the dinner and smoke afterwards immensely, and am at last quite sure -that I am doing some good with some of these men, all of whom are -influential, and most of them sadly prejudiced against us still as a -nation. For myself it is quite impossible to express their kindness. -They seem as if they can never do enough for me. When we got back to -Cambridge, we found Miss M------ and Dr. Lowell, brother to James, an -English clergyman, and quite charming too in his way. - - - - -New York. - -I think I have told you already the sort of royal progress I am making. -Some principal citizen always comes to the station to meet us in his -carriage, books our luggage by the express (an admirable institution -which saves you all the trouble with luggage), drives us up to his -house, lodges us in the best rooms, has all the best folks in the -neighbourhood to meet us at breakfast, dinner, tea, takes us to the -sights of the neighbourhood, keeps all his servants out of sight when we -are going, so that we can’t give any one a penny or even pay our washing -bills, and finally sends us and our luggage down to the next boat or -steamer, when we are booked already probably by a new friend. Certainly -I never saw, heard of, or could imagine anything like the hospitality. -It is no doubt in some degree, and in individual cases, owing to -the part I took during the war in England, but Democrats as well as -Republicans have been amongst our warmest hosts; in fact, I am fairly -puzzled, and allow the tide at last to carry me along, floating down it -and enjoying everything as well as I can. I think in my last I got to -our start from Boston. No! was it? At any rate, I wrote about our day at -Concord, I know, as to which I shall have to tell you more when we meet. -After we got home Miss Mabel rushed upstairs, got into her photographing -dress, the quaintest turn-out you can conceive, and commenced a series -of groups, etc., which you shall have specimens of when I get back. She -is endless fun; has the most arch way of talking to her father as “sir” - every now and then; is charming with her stepmother; and altogether as -bright a bit of life about a house as you would meet on a summer’s day. -I parted from Lowell and his home feeling that the meeting had been more -than successful. For these eighteen or nineteen years I have revelled -in his books--indeed, have got so much from them and learned to love -the parent of them so well, as I imagined him, that I almost feared -the meeting, lest pleasant illusions should be broken. I found him much -better than his books. We had a pleasant three hours’ rail to Newport, -finding Mr. Field, a Philadelphian banker, at the station with -his carriage. We were friends at once, for he is a famous, frank, -goodlooking, John Bullish man of the world, who has travelled all over -Europe and retained his new world simplicity and heartiness. He drove -us all round the fashionable watering-place, the description of which -I must postpone or I never shall get through (as we say here). His -cottage, as he calls it, in accordance with the fashion here, is a -charming villa, on the most southern point of Newport, close to the -rocks on which the grand Atlantic roll was beating magnificently as we -drove up. - -Saturday morning a lot of men came to breakfast, including Colonel -H------, the officer who had been the first to volunteer to take -command of negroes in Virginia, before the New England States even began -mustering them. I was delighted to make his acquaintance, as I knew his -name in my anti-slavery standard as a real, advanced Radical, and I was -anxious to realise that type of Yankee of which I had only seen Lloyd -Garrison in England. He was very fascinating to my mind, and the -most refined man in manners and look I have yet met, but I should -say decidedly a cracked fellow in the good sense. We adjourned to the -spouting rock, just at the point where the surf was beating gloriously, -and as I continued talking with H------, of course I got a ducking by -getting too near this rock, which is hollow underneath, so that it -sends a spout of water up like a huge whale some second or two after the -breaker hits it. The sight was superb, and well worth the payment of an -unstarched waistcoat and shirt. We got home, and I changed at 11.30 -or thereabouts, and when I came in to dress for dinner there was my -waistcoat, washed and starched, on the bed. Mrs. Field had heard me -say in joke that I should be out of white waistcoats. We went to the -Episcopal Church on Sunday morning and had a good sermon of a quarter -of an hour, sitting in the pew of an acquaintance of the previous day, -a Mrs. H------ of New York, who drove us about in her handsome carriage, -and insisted on giving me two books--one being extracts from Lincoln’s -_Speeches and Letters_, which I am very glad to have. In the evening -we were sent down to the pier, where we were picked up by the most -magnificent steamer ever seen in the world, I should think, and by -six next morning were running along the north river, one of the many -entrances by sea to New York harbour. The approaches to the city are -superb, but the first view of it disappointed me, the buildings along -the water-side being for the most part poor and almost mean. We found -Hewitt’s carriage waiting, he being out of town for his Sunday, and -drove up through Broadway and Fourth Avenue to his house, which is a -splendid roomy one, belonging to his father-inlaw, Mr. Cooper. The dear -old gentleman, a hearty veteran of seventy-nine, is the founder of the -Cooper’s Institute, a working-man’s college on a large scale. He has -spent nearly a million dollars upon it, and it is certainly the -best institution of the kind I have ever seen. He is one of the most -guileless and sweetest of old men, and I shall have much to tell you of -him. Mr. Hewitt, my friend, who is in partnership with him, and his wife -and family live with the old gentleman. Here I found free admission to -the four best clubs in New York--the Union League, the Century, and -even the Manhattan, a democrat club of which Hewitt is a distinguished -member. The nice brisk woman in the house gave us an excellent -breakfast, and we started for the town about eleven. One of the -first places I went to was Roebuck’s store, where I found him very -flourishing. But I can’t go on to catalogue our doings or shan’t get -this off. As very few folk are in New York, we are off to-day to West -Point up the Hudson, where we stay for a military ball to-morrow night; -on Friday we get to Niagara, and then away west, certainly as far as -Omaha, to see prairies, etc., and possibly to San Francisco. We must -be back here or in New England on the 1st of October, on the 6th is -the Harvard Memorial ceremony, laying the first stone of their memorial -building, on the 11th I am in for an address, and after that shall set -my face homewards. I have looked at myself in the glass at your request -and believe I look fabulous. - - - - -Garrison’s Landing, opposite West Point, Friday, 9th September 1870. - -I already look wistfully along the pages of my pocket-book which -intervene between this and the beginning of November, and feel very like -bolting home instead of going west. The only moments I have for writing -are early (it is now 6.30) or after I come up to bed, as the dear, good -folk provide occupation for all the rest of the time. Well, we got to -New York on Monday mornings by the East River, and left it on Wednesday -afternoon by the Hudson, having, I think, seen it superficially, so that -I should retain a clear idea of it if I never saw it again. We dined -on Monday at the Union League Club, Tuesday at the Manhattan, going in -afterwards to the Century--all three clubs as complete, I think, as ours -and open to strangers in every corner. We left New York on Wednesday -afternoon with Mr. O------, Chairman of the Illinois Central Railway, -who has this delicious place on the slope of the mountain opposite -West Point. As usual there were carriages at the pier, and all trouble, -expense, etc., has been taken off our hands. Mrs. O------ is the nicest -Yankee lady we have seen (except Mabel), like Mrs. Goschen in face and -charmingly appreciative. Her husband, staunch American, about fifty. The -more fanatic Americans they are the more they seem to like to do for me, -and as I spend the greater part of my time in showing them how mistaken -they must be in their views as to England, else how is it that we didn’t -interfere and get to war, I feel I am doing good work. They take to me, -I can see, apart from my proclivities. - -I am obliged to give up poor old Pam, the mercantile community of -England, and the majority of the aristocracy; but when I have made a -Jonah of these, I always succeed in bringing these good, simple, -candid, impulsive fellows to admit that we did them no bad turn in their -troubles. We leave to-day for Niagara, and during the next fortnight I -hardly know how or when I can write. - - - - -Clifton Hotel, opposite Niagara Falls, 11th September 1870. - -I am glad to find that I shall be able to get off this one more -letter to you by regular post before we plunge away west for nearly -a fortnight. I do so long for you every now and then when there is -something to see which you would specially appreciate, not only then as -you well know, but then specially, in the glorious reaches of the Hudson -near West Point, for instance, where you have all the beauty of the -Scotch Highlands, with a hundred well-kept rich men’s houses, and a -monster hotel or two crowning some high point,--an excellent substitute, -in my view, for the ruined keeps of robber barons on the Rhine,--and -endless steamers and sloops, with their white sails and great tows, as -they call them, of a dozen large flats lashed together and bringing down -lumber and corn from the west, passing up and down; but, above all, -last night, when we went under the light of a glorious full moon and saw -these mighty falls from above, and then went down some 200 steps, and -along under the overhanging cliffs, till we actually got under the end -of the horse-shoe fall on the Canadian side, and looked up and saw -the moon through the falling water. Just as we descended, an American -gentleman and his daughter and an English girl with them came up, to -whom we gave our seats, and when we came back they were still there, so -we told them what we had seen and offered to escort them down. They were -delighted, and “papa” did not object, so down we all went, and so we had -a second treat behind the cataract, and being with these ladies made -me horribly wishful to get you there. The girl (Philadelphian) was very -pretty and simple, so I handed her over to R------, and gave my arm to -the English one. To-day we went across the ferry amid a great turbulence -of waters, and looked up at the descending rivers, to the English Church -on the opposite side. An American bishop preached, and afterwards we -walked on Goat Island, above and between the two falls, and saw such -effects of rainbows, and lilac and green and purple and pure white -surges, as it is utterly impossible to describe, but I shall try to do -it by the help of photographs when I get back. Then we had a bath in the -rush just above the Falls; you have a little room through which a slice -some four feet wide of the water is allowed to rush; you get in at the -side, in the back water, and then take hold of a short rope fixed close -above the rush, and let the waters seize and tear at you, which it does -with a vengeance, tugging as if it would carry off your legs and pull -you in two in the middle. You can get out of it in a moment by just -slewing yourself round, and the sensation is marvellously delicious. I -forget whether you had one of the baths at Geneva, where the blue Rhone -rushes through at about a third of the pace. That is the only bath I -ever remember the least to be compared to this above Niagara. But let me -see, I hadn’t got farther with you than our chateau on the Hudson. -Well, we left it on Friday after breakfast at about nine o’clock, and -travelled away steadily with only twenty minutes’ stop at Albany, where -we dined, and a quarter of an hour at Rochester. The greater part of the -road was decidedly pretty, especially the earlier part which ran along -the banks of the Hudson. We stopped at Rome, Syracuse, and Utica amongst -other places, all busy, stirring places apparently, with their streets -all converging on and open to the line of rail. Every one has to look -out for themselves, and you get in and out of the trains at your own -peril. I have heard of very few accidents, and I don’t believe there are -as many as with us; but I should think a good many people must often -be left behind, as the train starts without any signal, leaving you to -climb in as you can, an easy enough feat for an active man, but scarcely -for any one else. This journey was our first really long one; we did -not get to Suspension Bridge, where we slept, till past midnight, but I -didn’t find it very tiring. There was a drawing-room car on, but I would -not go in it. The other cars are quite comfortable enough, and I like -seeing and being with the people, though they continue to be the most -silent and reserved of any race I have ever been amongst. Next day -(Saturday) just glanced at the Falls; we ran round the west of Lake -Ontario, by Hamilton, to Toronto, the capital of the province, and were -exceedingly struck and pleased with the signs of vigour and prosperity -both in the country and cities. The farming is certainly cleaner and -better than on the American side of the lake, and the towns don’t lose -by comparison with those of the same size over the border. At Toronto -I found Dymond, one of my best Lambeth supporters, in the Globe Office, -and we called on one of our _Peruvian_ acquaintances, who regaled us -with champagne in his huge store; we went over the law courts and -other public buildings, dined, and then on to the boat to cross back to -Niagara. It is about two hours’ sail and very pleasant. There were quite -a number of young and pretty girls on board going across for the trip, -as you might drive out in a carriage to any suburb. It seems the regular -afternoon amusement and lounge, and the heads of families take season -tickets which pass all their belongings. There were three Canadian -M.P.’s also on board, with whom I got a good deal of useful and pleasant -chat; one of them (M.P. for Niagara) induced me to “drink” twice in -ginger-ale and brandy, and again in champagne, which was the first -instance of that pressingly convivial habit supposed to be universal -on this side that I have seen. I am uncommonly glad it doesn’t really -prevail, as nothing I detest more than this irregular kind of drinking. -The pick-me-up is decidedly one of the most loathsome inventions of -a decrepit civilisation. We got to our hotel here, right opposite -the Falls, by about six, saw them first before tea and afterwards by -moonlight, as I have already narrated. In an hour’s time we start for -Chicago. Our late host, Mr. O------, the President of the Illinois -Central Kail, one of the greatest of the Western’s system of railways, -has followed us here, and is going round a tour of inspection of his -line, and to open 150 miles of new way for traffic. So we shall go round -in an express train with him, seeing everything in the most luxurious -and easiest manner--a wonderful piece of luck. It was his nice wife who -persuaded him to come off and do it now at once while he could have us -with him. I am sitting at my open window, outside of which is a broad -verandah with a magnificent view of the Falls. I am getting what I take -to be my last look at them, and for the last time the sound of many -waters, the finest to be heard in the world, I suppose, is in my ears. -The mid-Atlantic when the waves were highest struck me more, but nothing -else I have ever seen in Switzerland or elsewhere comes near this. It is -the first great hotel we have been in, and not a bad specimen I imagine. -We get heaps of meals, and though the cooking is not all one could wish, -there is nothing to hinder your living very well. We are waited on by -some fifteen or twenty real darkies--good, grinning, curly-pated -Sambos and Pompeys--so, of course, I am happy so far as service goes. -Seriously, though, they are much more obliging and quite as intelligent -as their white compeers here and in the States. - - - - -Storm Lake, 13th. September 1870. - -One line from this odd little station, right in the middle of the Iowa -prairies, which slope away right out of sight in every direction. It is -the highest point between Fort Dodge and Sioux City. Fifteen months ago -there were not three settlers’ cabins on the whole 140 miles; now -they are dotted along every mile or so, sometimes turf huts, sometimes -wooden, with generally a group of barefooted, healthy children tumbling -about the doors. We are sitting in the little wooden post-office here, -on the walls of which hang maps of the splendid town which is to be -run up in the next three or four years, and notices of a meeting of the -citizens of Storm Lake to hear the addresses of Captain Jackson Orr, -the Republican candidate for Congress of the district, and of Governor -G------, who comes to support him. The whole place at present consists -of some ten or twelve wooden huts, with two more ambitious buildings -running up, one an hotel and the other a big store. The settlers are a -fine rough set of fellows, but full of intelligence, and determined -to make their place the most important city in the State. It is a most -exquisite climate, with a lake four miles by two, in which there are -plenty of pickerel, and as we came along in our express train we have -put up lots of coveys of prairie hens, like big tame grouse, most -delicious eating too. _Express train_, you will look at with wondering -eyes. Well, or rather wâàl, as they pronounce it here, that is the -explanation of the whole _city_, and accounts for all that is going to -happen on this glorious prairie. A line of rail has been _built_ right -across it by some enterprising folk in New York, who want now to lease -it to the Illinois Central Railway, with which it makes connections at -Fort Dodge. We left Chicago yesterday morning, got to Dubuque on the -Mississippi by night, travelled all through the night to Fort Dodge, -and are on here now fifty-three miles farther inspecting. It is regal -travelling. We have two carriages,--one a charming sleeping-car, in -which I have a beautiful little state-room, another carriage for dining, -etc., equally commodious, all our stores on board, so that we live -splendidly, two negro boys to wait on us. O------, the present -president, and the vice-president of the line, are our only -fellow-passengers, each of whom is as well lodged as I am. We go along -as we please, sometimes at forty, sometimes at ten miles an hour, -talking to the people at each little log-house station, and enjoying -the confines of civilisation in the most perfect luxury. While they are -talking about the price of land round here I have just this ten minutes, -and find I can fire off this note with some chance that it may get off -by the New York boat of Saturday, so that I shan’t lose a post or you a -letter. - - - - -Fort Dodge, 13th September 1870. - -Here we are! September 15, 2 p.m. You will see, if you have got my last -from Sioux City, that the above heading is somewhat wild. The fact is, -that just as I had written the three first words (in fact, while I was -writing them, which accounts for their jerky look), our little train -moved on from Fort Dodge and I couldn’t write, even on our superb -springs. Now we are at Council Bluffs, opposite Omaha. Why, hang it! -here we go again moving on, and I must stop again. - -3 p.m.--We only ran three miles and then stopped to lunch and let a -Union-Pacific train pass. Now after a famous lunch in our second or -commissariat car, I am getting a smoke and a few more lines to you -before we are off eastward again. Thank Heaven! after all the wonderful -new sights and sensations of the last three and a half days since we -left Niagara, I confess to the utmost delight at feeling that we have -made our farthest point, and that I am already some three miles plus the -breadth of the Missouri River and Omaha City on my way back to you. It -is still more than a month before we embark for home (if I can hold out -as long); still, we are on our way! However, you must not think that -I am not enjoying myself wonderfully. I am, and am also, I hope, good -company, for when one is treated like the Grand Turk or the Emperor of -Russia, the least one can do is to be pleasant. But if I go on with my -sensations, I shall never pick up my narrative; as it is, I shall be -obliged to leave thousands of things till we meet, when I do hope I -shan’t have forgotten anything. Well, didn’t I leave off at Niagara? -We left the hotel in front of the Falls there on Monday morning after -breakfast with O----, who had no power except for himself till we got -to Chicago; we had been furnished with free passes, and rode in the -ordinary cars through Ontario province to Windsor, opposite Detroit. -In Canada, again, the difference was at once visible between the two -peoples; but I am not at all prepared to admit that the Canadians have -the worst of it, certainly not in the roadside cookery, for we had the -best joint of beef we have seen since we left home at dinner, and the -best bread and butter at tea. At Windsor the train ran quietly on to the -huge ferry-boat-steamer, and we had a moonlight passage to the railway -station at Detroit. Here we secured berths in the Pullman sleeping car, -for which you pay rather more than you would for a bed at a first-class -hotel. However, they are an admirable institution, and enable one to get -through really wonderful travelling feats. We were at Chicago early -next morning, and transferred ourselves directly into our small express -train, getting glimpses of the city of forty years, which within living -men’s memory was a small Indian station. - -It is enormous, spreading over certainly three times the space which an -English city of 250,000 inhabitants would occupy. We shall see the town -on our return; meantime, as we ran out of the suburbs, we saw a house of -considerable size waiting at the crossing for our train to pass before -it went over, as coolly as a farmer’s waggon of hay would wait in -England. O------told us that all the old houses in Chicago are moved in -this way. As building is very expensive, when one of the big folk wants -to put up some splendid new structure--bank, store, or the like--there -are always men ready to buy the old house as it stands. They then just -cut away its foundation, put it on rollers, and tote it away to the -site they have bought in the suburbs. We fell upon breakfast in a -half-famished state as we steamed away westward, and through the whole -day were kept on the stretch. Not that there was any great beauty in the -scenery, but the interest of getting actually into half-settled country -was exceedingly absorbing. The most notable town we passed was Galena, -in Northern Illinois, from which Grant went to the war, leaving his -leather yard for that purpose. The citizens of Galena have bought and -presented him a good square house of red brick on the top of the hill -there. Then we ran along a tributary of the Mississippi, and about 4.30 -came out on the father of waters; where we struck the mighty stream it -was not impressive. We came upon a mighty swamp, not a river, miles and -miles of trees, some of them fine large ones, standing in the water and -covered with creepers. The river was luckily high, so that we had this -effect of a forest rising out of water to perfection. Then there were -miles of swamp, half water, half land, dreary and horrible to look at, -sometimes sound enough for cattle to pick about, and then only fit for -alligators and wild-fowl; of the latter we saw a number, including a -white heron. At last we came upon the river, some three-quarters of a -mile wide-up there, 1600 miles from the sea, and crossed by a gossamer -bridge, a real work of high art. On the opposite side we stopped for -tea-dinner at Dubuque, one of the largest towns in Iowa, and the first -border city we had seen,--very quaint to behold, with streets laid out -as broad as Regent Street, here and there a huge block of stores full of -dry goods or groceries, and then a lot of wooden hovels, a vacant plot -perhaps, and then a big hotel, or another great store,--the streets all -as soft as Rotten Row, and much deeper in dirt, side pavements of wood, -every house placarded in huge letters with the name and business of the -owner. Here, for the first time, we saw emigrants’ waggons packed with -their household goods and lumber (sawed planks) for their houses, bound -for the prairies beyond, on which they settle under the homestead -acts. In short, the pushing slipshod character of the great West was -thoroughly mirrored in the place, and above all the other buildings was -a fine common school open to every child in the place. This is the one -universal characteristic of these towns and villages; almost the first -thing they do is to build a famous big school. The member of Congress -for the place and one or two other notables came down to see us after -tea, and smoked a cigar with us in our saloon car before we started. -The talk was, of course, on the wonders of the West, and the chances of -Dubuque to be a big city in a year or two. Then we turned in and ran -all night to Fort Dodge, from which the first line of this letter was -written, a village with the same characteristics as the towns, except -that the only building not of wood was the station, which, strange to -say, was built of gypsum, found in great quantities here, and the only -sort of stone they have. The president of the line--a shrewd, honest, -Western man named Douglas, one of our party--guessed that in another -five years they would have to pull the station down and manure the land -with it. From this place we ran right up into the wild prairies, and at -the highest point between the Mississippi and Missouri, at Storm Lake, -I wrote you the hasty note which, I hope, you have received from those -unknown parts. It is about the largest settlement in the 180 miles, -consisting of perhaps twelve or fourteen wooden houses, one of which -was a billiard saloon kept by an old Cornish man. He said that quite -a number of Cornish miners are over in this district, some at lead and -coal mines of a very primitive kind, others farming. On the whole, the -people seemed a good, steady, independent lot, and the children looked -wonderfully healthy, running about barefooted on the shore of the little -lake or amongst the prairie grass. We made acquaintance with prairie -chicken and the little earth squirrel, a jolly little dog, with a -prettily marked back, who frisks into his hole instead of up a tree like -ours. Then we dropped down, still through wild prairie, over which the -single line of rail runs with no protection at all, till we came to -Sioux City on the Missouri, and the biggest town on the river for 2000 -miles from its source. There are 12,000 inhabitants, and precisely the -same features as at Dubuque, except that it is a far more rowdy place, -being still almost under the dominion of Judge Lynch. Only the day -before we arrived, a border ruffian had been swaggering about the town, -pistol in hand, and defying arrest. However, they did take him at last, -and he was safe in prison. A fortnight earlier a rascal, who confessed -to nine murders, had been taken and hung on the other side of the -river. There are sixty-three saloons, at most of which gambling goes -on regularly every night. The editor of the _Sioux Tribune_, an Irish -Yankee of queer morals and extraordinary “go,” took us into one, stood -drinks round, and expounded the ingenious games by which the settlers -and officers of the Indian fort up the stream are cleared of their -money. A rowdy, loafing, vagabond city, but there they have three or -four fine schools (one had just cost 45,000 dollars), for which they -tax the saloons mercilessly. I have no doubt the place will be quite -respectable in another five years. We slept quietly and dropped down -south along the Missouri to Council Bluffs, from which the earlier part -of this was written. The Missouri is a doleful stream, shallow, with -huge sandbanks in the middle, and great swamps at the side, but striking -green bluffs rising above on the east bank under which we went; and -behind them I saw the sun rise in great beauty. We just crossed the -river to Omaha to say we had been in Missouri and seen the terminus -of the Union-Pacific Railway, and a fine go-ahead place it is, like -Dubuque, only twice as big and finely situate on hills above the -Missouri River. We are now back at Chicago, having seen more frontier -towns and prairies on our way here, and in five days, by the good -fortune of this private train, have done more than we could have managed -otherwise in nine. - - - - -Chicago, September 1870. - -I am so afraid that I shan’t get off a letter regularly twice a week -from this run in the West, that I begin this in a spare three minutes -between packing and a testimonial which is to be given me here by a -lot of young graduates of the American Universities at the Club at four -o’clock. This place is the wonder of the wonderful West, as you know -already. A gentleman I met to-day tells me he came up to this place in -1830, when it consisted of a fort with two companies, a dozen little -wooden huts, and an encampment of 3000 or 4000 Indians who had come in -to get their allowances under treaty with the United States. Now it is -one of the handsomest cities I ever saw, with 300,000 inhabitants, and -progressing at the rate of 1500 a week or thereabouts. We have had our -first experience of a first-rate American hotel, the Fremont House here. -It is decidedly not cheap. At present rates about fifteen shillings -or four dollars a day; but you can eat and drink anything but wine and -spirits all day, with the exception of one hour in the afternoon between -lunch and dinner. I ordered a peach just now for lunch, and they brought -me a whole plateful, not so good as our hot-house ones, but very fine -fruit. Yesterday I went twice to hear Robert Collyer, a famous -Unitarian minister here. He was born in Yorkshire, where he worked as -a blacksmith, preaching as a Methodist, and finally, twenty years ago, -came out to the West and established himself here. He has great and -deserved influence, and is altogether the finest man of the kind I have -ever met. His text was out of Job: “Dost thou know the springs of the -deep?” I forget the exact words, but you will find them in the splendid -38th chapter, where God is showing Job who is master (as the cabman put -it). He had been for his holiday at the sea, and was full of thoughts -which, as he said, he wanted to get off to his people. He began by a -quotation from Ruskin as to the fantastic power and beauty of the sea, -said that no trace of love for the sea could be found in the Bible, only -fear of it. In the New Jerusalem, St. John dreamed “there shall be no -more sea.” Same with all great poets, even English, illustrated by Burns -and Shakespere, and Dr. Johnson’s saying, “That a ship was a prison with -a chance of being drowned.” Even sailors don’t really look on sea as -home, and fear it, and weave mystical notions of all kinds round it. Yet -the sea has its sweet and gentle side too; it nourishes every plant and -flower that grows by its exhalations, and keeps the rivers sweet and -running; and look at one of the exquisite little shells which you may -find after the fiercest storm, or the bit of sea-weed lying on the -shore, or the limpet on the rock. The lashing of the storm has done them -no harm, and there they lie as perfect as if it had never been raging. -about them. So the great stormy sea of life has its gentle and loving -side for every one of us so long as we trust in God and just obey His -laws and do His will. I have given you the very barest outline of a very -striking sermon. In the evening I went to tea with him, and there was -a large bunch of grapes on my plate with the enclosed little paper, “To -Mr. Hughes from the children,” which touched me much. The children are -very nice. Robert Lincoln, Abe’s son, and a lot of his friends are our -entertainers to-day, and in the evening we go by the night train to St. -Louis. I laid aside the other sheet to go off to this club dinner with -the young Chicago men, and I have never had a more hearty greeting or -kinder words and looks than amongst these youngsters, all graduates of -some university, most of them officers in the late war, who are settled -down in the great money-making town, and are living brave and sterling -and earnest lives there. I really can’t tell you the sort of things they -said (they drank your health, and the proposer made one of the -prettiest little speeches in proposing it I ever heard); in short, I was -positively ashamed, and scarcely knew how to meet it all or what to say -to them; but it was less embarrassing than it would have been with any -other young men, for this kind of young American (like Holmes) is so -transparently sincere that you can come out quite square with him before -you have known him an hour. Our good friends of the Illinois Central -gave us free passage to St. Louis, to which we travelled all night. -It is the biggest town in Missouri, was a great slave-holding place in -1860, and very “secesh” during the war. A fine city it is too, with -its grand quay lined with huge steamers, and its miles of fine streets. -Rowdy though, still, full of low saloons and gambling-houses. The most -drunken town in the United States, the gentleman who met us, and drove -us about and got us free papers here to Cincinnati, told us. The most -characteristic thing that happened to me was that I was shaved by a -negro (and better shaved than I ever was in my life before). He had been -body servant to his master, a rich Southern planter, through the first -three years of the war. His master was at last shot and he managed to -get taken, and so “I’se no slave now,” as he said, with all his ivories -shining. His education has not been much improved, however, for he -thought England was at war, as being somehow part either of France or -Germany, he couldn’t just say which, and would scarcely believe me -when I declared that we were separated by the sea from both. Then we -travelled all night again (I sleep splendidly in these palace cars, so -don’t be alarmed), and got here to the queen city of Ohio this morning, -after the most glorious sunrise I ever saw. This also is a very fine -city on the Ohio, with fine hills all round and a magnificent suspension -bridge. The most characteristic sight I have seen here, however, was -two small boys trotting along together barefooted, with a piece of -sugar-cane between them, each sucking one end. I had a note to Force, -one of Sherman’s generals, now a judge here, who kindly sent us round in -a carriage, but was too busy to come with us. To-night we make another -long run to Philadelphia. We should have gone to Washington and so -worked north, but Philadelphia is the next place where I shall get -letters, and I can’t do any longer without hearing from you, so that’s -all about it. I have lots of friends in Philadelphia, so shall probably -make two days’ stay there. - - - - -Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, 23rd September 1870. - -Where was I in my narrative? I guess (I am getting a thorough Yankee -in my vernacular) I gave you a short account of the queen city, as they -call Cincinnati. We left Cincinnati at ten o’clock on Wednesday night -and came right away for 600 miles to Philadelphia. - -The most interesting part of the road was the crossing the Alleghanies, -up which we wound through vast forest tracks for some thirty miles, and -down the eastern slopes in the sunset, getting daylight for all the most -beautiful parts. As we were rushing up one of the finest gorges, some -200 yards wide, we were suddenly aware of a huge eagle (bigger than -those we saw on the Danube as we steamed through the Iron Cates) sailing -up on the opposite side, perhaps 100 yards from the train. We were going -eighty miles an hour at the least, and the grand old fellow swept along -without the least apparent effort, keeping abreast of our car for I -should think a couple of miles, when he suddenly turned and settled on a -fine pine-tree. - -After breakfast we had a real field-day in this splendid city, which -rivals Boston in interest and character. Outside it is built of red -brick and white marble, the contrast of which materials is to me -singularly taking, though I daresay it is very bad art. - -Then the chief streets run away long and straight, and as you look down -them all seem to dive into groups of trees. Walnut Street, Chestnut -Street, and Spruce Street are the names of the oldest and handsomest -avenues. Our friend Field, the banker, was all ready for us, and a dozen -new friends, including General Meade, the first Federal general who -won the battle in the East, and a charming, tall, handsome, -grizzled, gentlemanly soldier. We went over the old State House, a -pre-revolutionary building, from the top of which there is a splendid -view of the town, with the two rivers, the Delaware and Schuylkill, -on which it stands. There is the hall in which the Declaration of -Independence was signed, and the chair in which Hancock sat, and the -table on which it lay for signature. The square is charming, with its -old trees and turf, just as it has always stood, and I am happy to say -the Pennsylvanians are very proud «of the old place, won’t allow it to -be touched, and are likely to keep it there till it burns, as I suppose -the State House, with all the old-fashioned timbers in wall and roof, -will some day. Then we went to the great Normal School for girls here, -five hundred strong, the daughters of all sorts of folk, from physicians -and lawyers to labourers. I was exceedingly interested and instructed -in many classes, especially in the history class. The handsome, -self-possessed young woman who was teaching was just beginning the -Revolutionary War as we came in, and “felt like” changing the subject -as she said, but I begged her to go on, and heard the old story from -Lexington down to Cornwallis’s surrender without turning a hair. After -classes, at two, the whole school was gathered for Scripture reading -and singing a hymn. After the hymn, in compliment to us, they began “God -save the Queen”; Rawlins and I got up by a sort of instinct, and to my -immense amusement up got the whole company. Then I was asked to say -a few words; and talked about the grand education they were getting, -referred to the history class and told them no Englishman worth the name -now regretted the end of the struggle one hundred years old, but only -that any of the bitterness should still be left; spoke of the grand -country which has been entrusted to them to be filled with the poor of -the whole world, told them that we had a woman’s rights movement at -home as well as they, which I hoped would not fall into any great -absurdities, but there were two rights they would always insist on--the -right of every girl in the States to such an education as they were -getting, and their own right (they are all being educated as teachers) -to go and give this education to those who want it most in West and -South. Then the girls all filed out to march music, played by a senior -girl, winding in and out of the rows of benches on which they had sat, -and so away downstairs and to all parts of the town, the prettiest sight -you can imagine. The girls are at the most awkward age, and, of course, -many of them plain, but altogether as comely as the same sort would be -with us, and not a sign of poverty amongst them, though many were quite -plainly dressed. My democratic soul rejoiced at the sight as you may -fancy. What a chance for straining the nonsense out of a girl if she has -any! We adjourned from the great training-school for girls to the -Girard College for orphan boys, founded by a queer old French Voltairian -citizen of Philadelphia, who died some forty years ago and left property -worth half a million of our money to found this college, with the -express _proviso_ that no parson of any denomination was ever to -be admitted within the walls. I am happy to say, however, that, -notwithstanding this provision, which is observed to the letter, the -Bible is read and every day’s instruction is begun and ended by a -religious service. This, by the way, is the case almost everywhere in -the States. Notwithstanding all the assertions to the contrary, I have -found only one place in which the education is purely secular. This was -Cincinnati, where the result is obtained by a combination of the Roman -Catholics with the German town population. Well, this college, as it is -called, is simply a vast boys’ home, just like our own, except that -the boys live in a most superb white marble building, copied from the -Parthenon. The classes were being taught, and kept in right good order -by women, who indeed almost monopolise teaching in this State, and -they are in the proportion of more than ten to one. The fault of Girard -College is that it is not wanted; the public school system which has -grown up since its foundation being open to every one, and offering at -least as good an education. If its funds could have been used to support -the boys while at the public schools it would have been better. The -whole arrangements are decidedly more luxurious than those at Rugby in -my time, and they have not yet established workshops. After our round -of institutions we were entertained at the Union League Club. The dinner -was good and the company better, Mr. MacMichael, the mayor, who had -been the chief mover in establishing the club in the dark days of 1861, -presided, with General Meade, who commanded at Gettysburg on his left -and me on his right. Dear old Field, the most furious and impulsive -of Republicans, and the most ardent lover and abuser of England and -Englishmen, vice-president, and the rest of the company, staff-officers -in the war or marked men in some other way. The club had sent eleven -regiments to the war at its own expense, and had exercised immense -influence on the Union at the most critical time. At last I was fairly -cornered; I had often before had to defend our position in sharp -skirmishes, but now, for the first time, was in for a general -engagement. Well, I just threw away all defensive arms, and attacked -them at once. “You say we were led by our aristocracy, who were savagely -hostile to you; I admit they were hostile, though with many notable -exceptions, such as the Duke of Argyll, Lord Carlisle, Howards and -Cavendishes; but what did you expect? I have taken in three or four -American papers for years, and in your debates in Congress, in your -newspapers, in every utterance of your public men, I have never heard or -read anything but savage abuse of our aristocracy. They don’t reply to -your insults, but they don’t forget them, so when you got into such hard -lines they went in heartily for your enemies. Well, you say the -South were England’s real enemies for the last forty years. True, but -aristocracy did not care for that, democracy was represented by you, and -that was what they went against.” There was an outcry: “Why, here’s a -pretty business, we thought you were a Democrat.” - -“So I am, in our English sense, but I am before all things an -Englishman. I have nothing to do with our aristocracy (except knowing a -few of them), and I fought as hard against them in England through the -war as you did against the rebels; but I am not going to allow you to -separate them from the nation, or to suppose that they can be punished -except through the nation.” - -“Well, but what do you say for all your great commercial world--bankers, -merchants, manufacturers, our correspondents, look how they turned on -us!” - -“It’s no part of my business to defend them; they were mean, I allow, -but their business was, as they supposed, and as all of you agree, -to make money; besides, after all, who fought your battle better -than Cobden, Bright, Forster, and such men as Kirkman-Hodson, and Tom -Baring?” Then they fell back on the general position that our Government -was hostile to them, and I went through what had really happened -in Parliament, and made them admit that if we had listened to Louis -Napoleon, and the blockade had been broken, it would have been a narrow -squeak for the Union. On the whole, I think, I made a good deal of -impression on most of them. General Meade and the soldiers were on my -side throughout, and admitted at once that, after all the abuse their -press heaped on our governing classes, it was childish to cry out when -they proved that they knew of the abuse and didn’t love the abusers. We -all parted the warmest friends, and I went off to tea at Mrs. W------s’, -where we met Dr. Mitchell, a scientific man, and his sister, and other -very pleasant folk, and heard many interesting stories of the war. The -next morning we started for Gettysburg. I had always made a point with -myself of seeing this one at any rate of the great battlefields. It was -the real turning-point of the war, fought on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of -July 1863, after the series of defeats and failures under M’Clellan, -Pope Hooker, Burnside. I well remember what a long breath we (the -Abolitionists) drew in England when the news came of Lee’s defeat at -the farthest point he had ever made to the North, and felt sure, for the -first time, that the war would be put through, and slavery be abolished -right down to the Gulf of Mexico. We had the best escort possible in -the person of Rosengarten, who was aide-decamp to General Reynolds, -commander of the corps which came up first and sustained the whole -weight of battle on the first day. Field also “came along,” and we had -a first-rate time on our journey over the Susquehanna bridge, which the -Northern militia burnt behind them as they escaped from Lee’s advance. -Then we stopped for an hour or two, waiting for a train at York, a nice -shady quiet country town of 11,000 inhabitants. The rebels had occupied -the place for three days and levied a matter of 80,000 dollars on the -people; in all other respects they seem to have behaved excellently and -to have been well under command. The old Episcopalian clergyman, a warm -friend of England, who had been Rosengarten’s tutor, and to whom we paid -a visit, gave us a capital description of the three days’ occupation, -and of the relief the York folk experienced when the poor ragged rebels -marched off for Gettysburg, and left the town very little poorer than -they had found it. We didn’t get to our inn, a huge wooden building on -the first day’s battlefield, till after sunset. Tea over, we came out -on the wooden platform which runs all round the house, and saw the most -glorious sight I have ever seen, I think, in the skies. Steaming up -Memphremagog we saw the aurora borealis splendidly, but that was nothing -to this. In Canada there was no colour in the pure flashes of light -which lit and pulsed over the whole sky, but on Saturday the changes of -colour were splendid, and I should say for half an hour the heavens were -throbbing with the most lovely rose-coloured streamers and sheets and -flashes. With my view of the importance to the poor old world of -the struggle which was descending there, you can fancy that such an -introduction to it was welcome and impressive. Next day we devoted to -the battlefield: began at the beginning where, on Thursday the 1st July -1863, Rosengarten himself, as Reynolds’s aide-decamp, had ridden forward -and placed the first Federal regiments which came on the ground in -position between the town of Gettysburg, which contains about 3000 -inhabitants and lies in a hollow, and the advancing rebels. Gettysburg -is at the junction of three roads and was a point which both armies were -bent on seizing. The fight on this the north-east side of the town began -early on Thursday. Rosengarten, after carrying out his orders, rode -back, and was just in time to see his General fall from his horse, shot -through the neck by a sharpshooter, and helped to carry him off the -field. After many hours’ hard fighting the Federals were driven back -through the town with heavy loss. Our friend, General Barlow, who -commanded a brigade, was also badly wounded. Luckily, during the day -two more corps of the army of the Potomac had come up and been placed in -position on a hill just to the south of the town, on part of which -the cemetery now stands, which was made immortal by Lincoln’s glorious -speech at the inauguration. Behind these fresh troops the broken 1st and -11th corps rallied and prepared for the next day. Reinforcements came up -to Lee also, and in the town the shopkeepers and other inhabitants -heard them making certain of an easy victory in the morning. Meade is -evidently a man who gains and holds the confidence of his troops; but -as he was slightly outnumbered, and the rebels had the prestige of the -first day’s victory, I take it he must have been beaten but for the -splendid position he had selected. His troops lay along two lines of -hills, covered in many places with wood which sloped away from the point -overlooking the town, leaving a space between them secure from fire, in -which he could move his troops without being seen, while every move of -Lee’s was open to him. The Confederates began attacks early and kept -them up throughout the day, but could not force the position except at -one point, where, after dark, they succeeded in making a lodgment and -spent the night within Meade’s lines. In the morning they were driven -out after a desperate struggle, and later in the day Lee made a -determined attempt with Longstreet’s corps to break the line again. He -lost three generals and about 4000 men in the great effort, and when -it failed, and he had to fall back to his own lines, the back of the -Rebellion was broken and the doom of slavery sealed for ever in North -America. At night he went away south, leaving most of his wounded, but -Meade was too much exhausted to do more than follow slowly. I am writing -in hot haste to catch the post, so can give you no clear idea, I fear, -of the great day. The hotel was a nice, clean, reasonable place, with -a landlord and servants really civil, and we enjoyed our excursion more -than I can tell you. - -Next day we came on to Baltimore, drove as usual in the beautiful park -and about the town in a carriage sent for us by some patriotic citizen, -dined at the Union Club, to which they gave us the _entrée_, and came on -to Washington. - - - - -Washington, Friday. - -You ask whether I read our papers and the news from Europe. No, except -just so far as to keep abreast of the bare facts. You know how I hate -details of battlefields, and that I have never got over my intense -dislike to the glowing and semi-scientific descriptions of “our own -correspondents,” sitting down in the midst of dying and agonised men to -do their penny or guinea a line. The dry report of a general or staff -officer, whose sad duty it is to be there, I follow with the deepest -interest, and recognise a battlefield as one of the very noblest places -from which a true man may make a “bee-line track” to heaven. The noblest -death in our times was Robert Shaw’s at the attack on Fort Wagner, at -the head of his niggers, under whom he was buried; but, for all that, -war and its details are a ghastly and horrible evil, which the faith of -our Master is going yet to root out of this silly old world, and which -none of His servants should touch unless it is the clear path of supreme -duty. - -I pity the poor French, utterly unmanned as they seem to be by this -nineteen years of the rule of Mammon, and heartily wish they could find -their manhood again, though I see no glimmer of it yet. Trochu seems a -fine fellow, and I can’t help believing that many of my acquaintance and -the members of the Paris associations, will be found ready to die like -men on the walls of the city if they get a chance. By the way, where is -N------? I wonder if he has gone back? If so, there is another brave and -true man in Paris, and perhaps ten may save it. But I must be getting -back to my journal or I shall be dropping stitches. If I don’t forget, -my last brought you with us to Willard’s Hotel, Washington, a great -three-hundred-roomed hotel, mixed, if not of Southern proclivities -during the war, before the door of which more than one duel was fought -in those searching times. At breakfast we found ourselves next the -Wards, father and son, G. B------‘s friends, to whom I had given some -letters. I found they had been even farther west than we; in fact, up to -Denver City, in the bosom of the Rocky Mountains, and had also managed -to get into four or five Southern states; but they had done it at the -sacrifice not only of comfort but of the chance of seeing the home-life -of the Americans, and I value the latter infinitely higher than mere -sight-seeing, so do not regret the least that we didn’t get through the -extra 1500 miles, which at the cost of five days’ more travel would have -let us see the Rocky Mountains and shoot at buffaloes. - -We went after breakfast to leave some of my letters, and over the White -House, a fine residence of white marble splendidly situated some one -and a half miles from the Capitol, with which it is connected by -Pennsylvania avenue, wider than Portland Place. I shall keep the details -till we meet; the house is as big as the Mansion House I should say, -and not very unlike it. Luckily, soon after we got outside we were -recognised (at least I was) in the street by Blackie, who was over in -England with the Harvard crew. He is in the attorney-general’s office, -and consequently has the run of all the public apartments, and he took -us in hand and lionised us splendidly. The Capitol Patent Office and -Treasury I shall bring you photographs of, and describe at leisure in -our winter evenings. The view from the top, over the city and Maryland -to the north, and across the Potomac over Virginia to the south, is as -fine as any I ever saw, General Lee’s house at Arlington Heights, now -a national cemetery, being the most conspicuous point in the southern -view. The thing that struck one most was the staff of women, mostly -young and many pretty, serving in the Treasury. They say there are -upwards of two thousand, and that for counting, sorting, and repairing -the paper currency, they are far superior to men. They earn one thousand -dollars (or £200) a year on an average. Fancy the boon to the orphan -girls of soldiers and sailors. One of the first we saw was the daughter -of a very distinguished Colonel of Marines, who had left her quite -destitute, as ladylike, pretty-looking a girl as you ever saw, and she -was running over bundles of dollar notes with her fingers as fast as if -she were playing the overture to _Semiramide_ with you on the piano. -It nearly took my breath away, and yet I was assured she never made an -error in counting. I wish we could get off a lot of our poor girls in -some such way in Somerset House, and send a lot of our Government clerks -to till the ground or hammer or do some hard, productive work. - -Perhaps, however, the pleasantest part of the day was the end, when he -took us off on the street-cars down to the Potomac, where we found -a boating club, with their boat-house, etc., just like an Oxford or -Cambridge College. There were eight or ten of them down there who -received us with open arms, and in a few minutes manned a heavy -eight-oared boat with room enough for me and R------ to sit in the -stern, and away we went up under the long bridge, over which the armies -used to cross in the war time, and saw a glorious sunset on the river, -with the stars and stripes floating proudly over our stern. I enjoyed -the row vastly and liked the men, who are just training for a race with -the Potomac club. Boating flourishes all over the states I have been in, -and they have learnt a lesson from their defeat two years ago and pull -now in just as good style as our boys. Oxford and Cambridge must mind -their hits, for they will have a tough job of it the next time they have -to meet a crew from this side. - -Next morning I called on our minister after breakfast, having heard by -chance that he was in town. I am very glad I did, as I had the pleasure -of hearing him praise C------, his ability, willingness, and capacity -for work, in a strain which would have rejoiced the heart of poor, dear -R. F------ and of the F------ family. He seems to think C------ will -come back here, and desires it most earnestly. I got from him Lord -Clarendon’s last despatch on the Alabama claims, which will be most -useful to me in my stump in the Boston Music Hall on the 11th. It is -the room and the course in which Wendell Phillips, Emerson, and all the -orators and philosophers figure. I have taken for my subject, “John to -Jonathan,” suggested by Lowell’s famous “Jonathan to John.” They won’t -get any eloquence or oratory out of me, as you know; but I am sure I can -say some things in a plain, straightforward way which will do good and -help to heal wounded pride and other sorely irritating places in the -over-sensitive, but simple and gallant Yankee mind. They have treated me -so like a spoilt child from Boston to Omaha and back, that I know they -will let me say anything and will listen to it affectionately. I really -love them too well to say anything that will really hurt them, and when -they see that this kind of feeling and appreciation is genuine, the more -thorough John Bull you are the better they like it; that is, all the -best of them, who rule the nation in the long run though not directly. -When I got back from our embassy, it was just time to be starting -for the train to Philadelphia, and lo! there were a dozen folk, from -secretaries of state downwards, waiting to offer lodgings, dinners, -excursions, lecturings, every sort of kindness in creation. It was hard -work to get off, but I managed somehow to make tracks, suppressing, I -fear, the fact that I was not likely to get to Washington again. The -journey to Philadelphia is very interesting along the coast, though -seldom within sight of the sea, but crossing huge inlets and rivers -(the abode of canvas-backs) on spider bridges. We didn’t change cars at -Baltimore, but were dropped by our engine in the outskirts of the town. -Six fine horses in a string were then hitched on to each long car, and -away we went through the crowded streets along the tramway rails, our -driver, or rather, conductor, for he had no reins, blowing his horn -loudly to warn all good people, and shouting to the train of horses -who trotted along by instinct between the rails. How we missed fifty -collisions I can’t conceive; at last we had one--crash into a confusion -of carts and drays, driven by shouting negroes who had got them all into -a hopeless jam as we bore down on them. Bang we went into the nearest; I -saw the comical, scared look of the grisly old Sambo who was driving, as -he was shot from his seat, but no harm was done except knocking off our -own step, and as we shot past I saw his face light up into a broad grin -as he sat on the bottom of his cart. We had cleared him right away from -his dead-lock with two other vehicles, and he went on his way delighted. -At Philadelphia we found our kindest of hosts, Field, waiting supper for -us in his delightful house, where he is living for a few days’ business -as a bachelor. Quiet evening, with talk till eleven o’clock on all -manner of places, people, and things, mostly English. Lippincott, the -great American publisher, and Rosengarten to breakfast, then a visit -from Morrison’s friend Welsh, reproachful that we had not occupied his -house, and full of interesting stories of the Indian commission, of -which he is the moving spirit. Then more schools, workmen’s houses, -etc., with Rosengarten, and a drive in the park, five miles long on both -sides of the river Schuylkill (as broad as the Thames at Putney), and -with views combining Richmond Hill and Oxford. The Central Park is -nothing to it, or any other I ever saw on heard of. The Quaker city -of white marble and red brick fascinated me more and more. A most -interesting dinner at Dr. Mitchell’s, a scientific man--talk of the war, -prairie stories, Yankee stories, wonderful old Madeira and excellent -cigars. This morning, after seeing Lippincott’s store, and a most -interesting talk with Sheridan’s adjutant-general on the last -campaigns (he came to breakfast), we literally tore ourselves away from -Philadelphia and came on here to this splendid, great, empty house, to -be received most hospitably by Maria, the big, handsome, good-natured -Irishwoman in charge. - -Everything is getting so crowded with me that I have hardly time to turn -round. All sorts of kind friends urging me to stop just for one day here -or there, a few hundred miles making no difference with them, hundreds -(almost) of applications for lectures or addresses, and the engagements -already made driving me nearly wild to know how I am to get through with -them. I shall never get my journal straight. Where was I? With dear old -Peter Cooper, the simplest, most utterly guileless of old men who ever -made a big fortune in this world or any other, I should think. That -I remember, but can’t the least get further. Nothing, however, very -particular happened, except that I was again caught and had to speak a -few words to the Normal Training School of New York, consisting of nine -hundred girls. I managed to get out of going with the beautiful Miss -P------ to her school, but thought I should be safe in going with the -dear old gentleman to the Normal School to be present at the morning -service. We were of course on the dais, and Mr. Cooper, after the -singing of a hymn, read a chapter of the Bible, then another hymn, and -then, instead of the adjournment to their classes at once, as I had -expected, I was called upon. You must imagine what I said, for I really -don’t remember. Then I was photographed alone, and with Mr. Cooper. I -enclose a proof of the latter which, I hope, will not quite fade on -the way. They tell me the prints will be very good, and I hope to have -several to bring home. We left on Wednesday by the afternoon boat to -Fall River, the finest boat in the States, the great cabin of which -I shall bring you a photograph, all the family grouped round the door -breaking one down with their kindness. I slept as usual famously on -board the _Bristol,_ and waked at Fall River about three, and so on by -rail to Boston, and by car up here, where I feel quite at home. Miss -Mabel appeared at breakfast, and produced her photographs made at the -time of our last visit with great triumph. They are excellent, and -I shall bring you lots of them. At eleven was the Harvard memorial -ceremony on the laying of the corner-stone of the hall they are building -in honour of the members who died in the war. I walked in with Mr -A------ and heard a good account of his wife and family. They want me -to go out there for a quiet day or two, but, I fear, it is quite -impossible. Two of his sons, the Colonel, and our friend Henry, who is -just named as one of the lecturers, were there also, and Emerson, Dana, -and a number of old and new friends. The ceremony was very simple, -Luther’s hymn, a short _extempore_ prayer, a report, and two addresses, -and the benediction, and then we just broke up and left the great -tent as we pleased. The point of greatest interest was, of course, the -gathering of some seventy or eighty of those who had been in the army, -almost all in their old uniforms, and many of them carrying the marks of -war about them too plainly. Colonel Holmes amongst them as nice as ever, -and young F------ and General M------, with half a dozen other generals. - -Lunch afterwards at a very quaint and attractive little club founded in -1792, and recruited by a few of the best fellows in each year, like the -Apostles at our Cambridge. Longfellow and our friend Field came to dine -here, and the poet was fascinating, full of his English doings, and -genial and modest as a big man should be. To-day I have been preparing -for my lecture, “John to Jonathan,” which comes off next Tuesday, as to -which I am considerably anxious, as it is exceedingly difficult to get -a line which will have the healing effect I intend. Let us hope for the -best. I go for Sunday to Lowell’s brother’s school, twenty miles away. -On Monday evening I meet the Harvard undergraduates, and on Wednesday -spend the day with Emerson at Concord. On Thursday I hope to get away, -but where? All our plans are changing. We now propose, if it can be so -arranged, to go first to Montreal for two or three days to pick up our -things, returning to Ithaca to Goldwin Smith for a long day about the -18th, and so to New York, from which we should sail about the 22nd. -You will, I daresay, be glad that we don’t go from Quebec; but I don’t -believe there is the least more danger at this time of year by this -route than any other. All I have resolved on is, that nothing shall keep -me beyond my time. - - - - -St. Mark’s School, Southborough, Mass., Tuesday, 9th October. - -We have had a very charming visit to this little village, twenty -miles from Boston, in which is established a Church of England -boarding-school, modelled as nearly as possible on our public school -system, and intended to do for American boys precisely what Eton, Rugby, -etc., do for ours. I am not sure that such schools are wanted here. - -Were I living here I should certainly try the public schools first for -my boys. But they say that the teaching there is too forcing in the -earlier stages, and afterwards not liberal enough in the direction of -“_the humanities_,” so that the boys get trained more into competitive -money-making machines than into thinking cultivated men. There is a very -considerable demand at any rate for this kind of school, as this is only -one of several in New England. There is an objection too amongst New -England mothers. I find that the high schools (as I ought to call them, -and not public schools) being open to every one, a large class of Irish -and other recent arrivals go there whose manners and language make them -dangerous class-mates for their own children. At any rate, St. Mark’s -school is a successful fact, and seeing how fast they go ahead here -I shouldn’t be astonished to hear that in a few years it is as big as -Rugby. Dr. Lowell is the principal, and a first-rate one, a High Church -of England clergyman, not a ritualist. The school is founded as a -denominational one, with a little chancel, which opens from the end of -the big schoolroom, and in which the doctor, in his robes, reads our -prayers morning and evening to the boys. He and his family live entirely -with the boys, taking all their meals in the hall, and there is no -fagging, the monitors having no power or responsibility, except just -to keep order in the schoolroom at certain hours. They have a monthly -reception of the friends from the neighbourhood, which took place on -Saturday evening. All the boys were there, and handed round ices, cakes, -and tea to some thirty ladies and gentlemen who came in, including -several of the trustees, a judge whom I had met in England, a -neighbouring squire (Boston merchant by profession), who is farming -largely down there, reclaiming the stony lands and getting up a most -beautiful herd of cattle. Of course I had to “address a few words” to -them, all which they took most kindly. On Sunday we had two Church of -England services in the pretty parish church, a copy of one in England, -the plans of which the Squire, Bartlett, had brought over. We dined in -the middle of the day at his house, which would be a good squire’s house -at home. The family were very nice--a sweet, pretty wife, a strapping -great eldest son now at Harvard, and good in all ways. He is bent on -going out West as soon as he is through college, and, as a preparation, -hired himself out to a farmer this summer vacation, earned ten dollars -a week for some two months at hoeing and other hard work, and then had -a sporting run to Canada. Two more big sons and any number of younger -children. The house was tastefully furnished with some really good -pictures, and altogether it was as nice a home as I have seen here. -On Monday we got back to dear Elmwood, and I went hard at work on my -lecture. Newspaper men came buzzing about all day and seizing my MS. as -I got through with it. Also came up Julian H------, one of the Chartist -prisoners of 1848. I had known him in the socialist times, and I had -always a respect and liking for him, but he had quite slipped out of -sight for some eighteen years. His errand touched me. He reminded me -(which I had entirely forgotten) that he had applied to Lord R------ -in 1851 for a loan of £20 which had been advanced to him through me. He -told the long story of his life since, full of interest; I must keep it -till we meet. At last he landed in the Massachussets state house, where -he is a Government clerk, on a small salary for this country, but out of -it he has saved a few hundred dollars, and the object of his visit was -to say that he was now anxious to pay his old debt with many hearty -thanks to Lord R------. Would I settle whether he should pay for -interest, and he would go and draw it out and send it by me? I said I -couldn’t say whether our friend would take interest, or at what rate, -but promised to let him know when I got back, so that he can remit the -exact amount to London. Even he has never taken up his citizenship here, -but remains an Englishman, and means at any rate to come back and die in -the old country. In the evening we went down to a gathering of all the -Harvard students who had petitioned me to come and talk to them. They -were gathered some five hundred strong in the Massachusetts Hall, and -a finer and manlier set of boys I have never seen. I talked to them on -Muscular Christianity and its proper limits, as they are likely to run -into professional athletics like our boys at home. Told them they lived -in a land which had “struck ile” and was so overflowing with wealth that -every one was hasting to get rich too quick. Exhorted to patience and -thoroughness; read to them Lowell’s “Hebe” (you remember the little gem -of a poem); told them they ought to take more part in public affairs -than their class usually do. All which they swallowed devoutly, and -cheered vehemently, like good boys, and then sang a lot of their college -songs: “Marching through Georgia” splendid, the rest much like our own. -The war has given a magnificent lift to all the young men and boys of -this country, and I think the rising generation will put America in a -very different place from that which she holds now. Last night I gave -my lecture in the Music Hall, which was crammed, and the whole affair a -brilliant success. “John to Jonathan” is printed verbatim in the morning -newspapers, so you will probably see it before I get back, and I think -like it. No more time for the moment. - - - - -Ithaca, N.Y., 16th October 1870. - -I missed the last mail through stress of work, chiefly on my lecture, -which I mentioned in my last. The applications for lectures were so -numerous and urgent that I really felt that I ought not to leave the -country without giving one at any rate, and all my friends said that -the Music Hall at Boston was the place if I only spoke once. It is the -largest room in New England, holds nearly three thousand people, is -easy to speak in, though it has great deep galleries running round three -sides, and in it all the big folk talk and lecture, Wendell Phillips and -Sumner follow me, so you see the class of thing at once. Well, as I was -in for it much against my will, I was determined to talk out with -the whole Yankee nation the controversy which. I had been carrying on -already with many of them in private. I was anxious not to leave them -with any false impressions, and to let them see clearly that in our -national differences I think that we have a very good case, and that -even if I didn’t think so, I am too good a John Bull not to stand by my -own country. Lowell agreed as to the title and object, but I think had -serious misgivings as to how the affair might turn out. Mundella thought -it very risky and so did most other folk. However, as you know, I don’t -care a straw for applause, and do care about speaking my own mind, so -whether it made me unpopular or not I determined to have my say. In -order that I might say nothing on the spur of the moment, I wrote out -the whole address carefully, and I am very glad I did, as the reporters -all copied from my MS., and consequently I was thoroughly well reported. -The _Tribune and Boston Advertiser_ printed it in full, and I will bring -you home copies. I was a little nervous myself when I got to the hall. -Two ex-Governors and the present Governor of the State were on the -platform, the two Senators (Sumner and Wilson), Longfellow, Judge Hoare, -Dana, Wendell Holmes, Wendell Phillips, Lowell, and, in short, pretty -nearly all the Boston big wigs. The great organ played “God save the -Queen” as I came in, and the audience, generally, I am told, a very -undemonstrative one, cheered heartily. My nervousness, however, wore off -at once, when I got on my legs. I found that my voice filled the hall -easily, and so was at my ease and got through just within the hour, -without once losing the attention of the audience for a minute. They -were indeed wonderfully sympathetic and hearty, and gave me three rounds -of cheers at the end, far more warmly than at the beginning. Every one -came and said that it was a great success; that they had never heard -our side fairly stated before; that this and that fact were quite new to -them, etc. In fact, if I didn’t know how soon the reaction comes in -such cases, I should think I had done some good work towards a better -understanding between the nations, and, as it is, I am sure I have done -no harm, and have at any rate made my own position perfectly clear, and -shown them that in the event of a quarrel, they can’t reckon upon me for -any kind of sympathy or aid. After the lecture whom should I meet as I -went out but Craft, the negro who had been the cause of one of the most -exciting meetings ever held in that hall some twenty years before, -when the attempt was made to seize him and his wife in Boston. I was -delighted to see him and to hear a capital account of his experiment -at association in Georgia. Then I went to Field’s, the publisher, to -supper, where were Longfellow, Holmes, Dana, and others, and so home by -the last car, thankful that it was all well over. Next morning I got a -cheque for 250 dollars (£50). I had, of course, never said a word about -any payment, so it was an agreeable surprise. The post brought me I know -not how many letters, begging me to lecture in a dozen states on my own -terms, so when all trades fail, I can come over here and earn a good -living easily enough, which is a consolation. Wednesday, our last whole -day with the dear Lowells, I spent peaceably. Went to his lecture in the -University on Arthurian legends; Miss Mabel photographed the house and -us in groups, and we talked and loafed. In the evening a supper at -the house of one of the professors, to meet the whole staff, and a -pleasanter or abler set of men I have never come across. Thursday, lunch -with Longfellow after packing, then a run down on the car to Boston, to -change my cheque, to take a berth on a packet, so as to be armed against -any appeals for another day or two in New York, and to get a last look -at the favourite points in the old Puritan capital, the place where -I should certainly settle if I ever had to leave England. We drove -a rather sad party to Mrs. Lowell’s sister, and the mother of the -beautiful boy whose photograph we have, and who was killed early in -the war, to tea, and from her house went to the station and took -sleeping-car for Syracuse. I cannot tell you how I like Lowell and all -his belongings. It is a dangerous thing to make acquaintance in the -flesh with one with whose writings one is so familiar, but he has quite -come up to my idea of him, and his wife and Miss Mabel are both very -charming in their own ways. I slept well, woke at Albany, breakfasted, -and then on to Syracuse, where Mr. Wansey, Mrs. Hamilton’s uncle, lives. -We got there at two, and I was immediately seized at the station by -Wilkinson, the local banker, whom I had just met at Ned’s this summer. -He drove us all through and round the most characteristic town in -America. Great broad streets lined with lovely maple trees, all turned -now to clouds of scarlet and gold; down the principal one the railway -runs without any fence. Old Mr. Wansey and others came to dine, he a -dear old man of eighty, but hale and handsome, rather like my dear -old grandfather’s picture, the rest pleasant country folk. We played -billiards, and told stories after dinner, and had a decidedly good time -till nearly midnight. The next morning we breakfasted with Mr. White, -the President of this new University, and came on here with him. He is -a young man of about thirty-five, and one of the finest scholars America -has to boast of at present. By the way, he was a classmate of Smalley -at Yale. He is a rich man, and he has nothing whatever to gain by -undertaking this work. In short, he is quite worthy of having Goldwin -Smith as a fellow-worker, and between them, with the excellent staff -of professors and teachers they have got round them, I expect they will -make this place in a wondrous short time a great working-men’s college. -Everything is of course rough at present, as the buildings are still -in progress, but two blocks are completed, and there are about seven -hundred pupils living in them and in the town at the bottom of the hill -on which Cornell stands. It is a most magnificent situation, looking -over a large lake, forty miles long, and two splendid valleys, which are -now ablaze with the crimson and purple colours of the maples, shumachs, -American walnuts, and other trees, which make the hillsides here glow -all the later autumn through. We found Goldwin Smith waiting for us at -the wharf and looking much stronger than he used to do in England, and -quite warm in his welcome. All the professors, with their wives and -families, if married, live for the present in a huge square block of -buildings originally intended for a hydropathic establishment, in which -they have a private sitting-room and bedrooms and dine and take all -meals in the hall. You may fancy how much I am interested in this great -practical step towards association. - - - - -New York, Tuesday. - -Here I am in the great city again, to spend the last few days before -my start for home. The reception in the great hall, speech, visit to -lecture rooms, etc., enthusiasm of boys, baseball games, and football -given in my honour, must all keep till we meet. For, alas! I have no -time to spend here for writing, as I have another address to give before -I start, on Friday evening, and I must write it carefully, as it is -to be on the labour question, which is mightily exercising our cousins -here. They are getting into the controversy which we are nearly through -at home, and if I can give them a little good advice before I come away, -I shall be very glad. As I am engaged every evening, it will not be easy -to find time to do it as I should like, but I can give the morning, I -think, and can at any rate make sure of not talking nonsense. - - - - -AMERICA--1880 to 1887 - - - - -The Cumberland Mountains - - - - -East Tennessee, 1st September 1880. - -Here I am at my goal, and so full of new impressions that I must put -some of them down at once, lest they should slip away like the new kind -of recruits, and I should not be able to lay my hand on them again when -I want them. The above address is vague, as this range of highlands -extends for some 200 miles through this State and Kentucky; but, though -fixed as fate myself, I can for the moment put no more definite heading -to my letters. The name of the town that is to be, and which is already -laid out and in course of building here, is a matter of profound -interest to many persons, and not to be decided hastily. The only point -which seems clear is that it will be some name round which cluster -tender memories in the old Motherland. We are some 1800 feet above the -sea, and after the great heat of New York, Newport, and Cincinnati, -the freshness and delight of this brisk, mountain air are quite past -describing. For mere physical enjoyment, I have certainly never felt its -equal, and can imagine nothing finer. - -And now for our journey down. We left Cincinnati early in the morning by -the Cincinnati Southern Railway, a line built entirely by the city, -and the cost of which will probably make the municipality poor for -some years to come. But it seems to me a splendid and sagacious act of -foresight in a great community, to have boldly taken hold of and opened -up at once what must be one, if not the main, artery of communication -between North and South in the future. I believe the impelling motive -was the tendency of the carrying trade of late years to settle along -other routes, leaving the metropolis of the south-west out in the cold. -If this be so, the result justifies the prompt courage of the citizens -of Cincinnati, for the tide has obviously set in again with a vengeance. -The passenger-cars are filled to the utmost of their capacity, and -freight, as we know here too well, is often delayed for days, in spite -of all the efforts of the excellent staff of the road. Besides its -through traffic, the line has opened up an entirely new country, -of which these highlands seem likely to prove a profitable, as they -certainly are the most interesting, tract. This section has not been -open for six months, and already it is waking up life all over these -sparsely-settled regions. Down below on the way to Chatanooga I hear -that the effect is the same, and that in that great mineral region -blast-furnaces are already at work, and coal-mines opening all along the -line. At Chatanooga there are connections with all the great Southern -lines, so that we on this aerial height are, in these six months, in -direct communication with every important seaport from Boston to New -Orleans, and almost every great centre of inland population; and the -settlers here, looking forward with that sturdy faith which seems to -inspire all who have breathed the air for a week or two, are already -considering upon which favoured mart they shall pour out their abundance -of fruits and tobacco, from the trees yet to be planted and seed yet to -be sown. All which seems to prove that Cincinnati, at any rate, has -done well to adopt the motto, “L’audace, toujours l’audace,” which is, -indeed, characteristic of this country and this time. - -And the big work has not only been done, but done well and permanently. -The engineering difficulties must have been very great; the cuttings and -tunnels had to be made through hard rock, and the bridges over streams -which have cut for themselves channels hundreds of feet deep. We crossed -the Kentucky river, on (I believe) the highest railway bridge in -the world, 283 feet above the water; and rushed from a tunnel in the -limestone rock right on to the bridge which spans the north fork of the -Cumberland river, 170 feet below. The lightness of the ironwork on which -these bridges rest startles one at first, but experience has shown them -to be safe, and the tests to which they have been put on this line would -have tried most seriously the strength of far more massive structures. -But it is only in its bridges that the Cincinnati Southern Railway has -a light appearance. The building of the line has a solid and permanent -look, justifying, I should think, the very considerable sum per mile -which has been spent on it above the ordinary cost in this country. And -by the only test which an amateur is as well able to apply as an expert, -that of writing on a journey, I can testify that it is as smoothly laid -as the average of our leading English lines. For the last fifty miles we -ran almost entirely through forests, which are, however, falling rapidly -all along the side of the line, and yielding place to corn-fields in -the rich bottoms, wherever any reasonably level ground bordered the -water-courses, up which we could glance as we hurried past. I was -surprised, and, I need not say, greatly pleased, to see the apparently -excellent terms on which the white and coloured people were, even in -the Kuklux regions through which we came. A Northern express man, our -companion at this point, denounced it as the most lawless in the United -States. About one hundred homicides, he declared, had taken place in the -last year, and no conviction had been obtained, the juries looking on -such things as regrettable accidents. This may be so, but I can, at any -rate, testify, from careful observation of the mixed gangs of workmen -on the road, and the groups gathered at the numerous stations, to the -familiar and apparently friendly footing on which the races met. As -for the decrease of the blacks, it must be in other regions than those -traversed by the Cincinnati Southern Railway, for the cabins we passed -in the clearings and round the stations swarmed with small urchins, clad -in single garments, the most comic little figures of fun, generally, -that one had ever seen, as they stood staring and signalling to the -train. There is something to me so provocative of mirth in the race, -and I have found them generally such kindly folk, that I regret -their absence from this same Alpine settlement,--a regret not shared, -doubtless, by the few householders, to whom their constant small -peculations must be very trying. - -About five we stopped at the station from which this place is reached, -and turning out on the platform were greeted by four or five young -Englishmen, who had preceded us, on one errand or another, every one -of whom was well known to me in ordinary life, but whom for the -first moment I did not recognise. I had seen them last clothed in the -frock-coat and stove-pipe hat of our much-vaunted civilisation, and -behold, here was a group which I can compare to nothing likely to be -familiar to your readers, unless it be the company of the _Danites_, as -they have been playing in London. Broad-brimmed straw or felt hats, the -latter very battered and worse for wear; dark-blue jerseys, or flannel -shirts of varying hue; breeches and gaiters, or long boots, were the -prevailing, I think I may say the universal costume, varied according -to the taste of the wearer with bits of bright colour laid on in -handkerchief at neck or waist. And tastes varied deliciously, two of -the party showing really a fine feeling for the part, and one, our -geologist, 6 ft. 2 in. in his stockings, and a mighty Etonian and -Cantab, in brains as well as bulk, turning out, with an heroic scorn of -all adornment, in woefully battered nether-garment and gaiters, and a -felt which a tramp would have looked at several times before picking -it out of the gutter. There was a light buggy for passengers and a -mule waggon for luggage by the platform; but how were nine men, not -to mention the manager and driver, both standing over 6 feet, and the -latter as big at least as our geologist, to get through the intervening -miles of forest tracks in time for tea up here? Fancy our delight when -a chorus of “Will you ride or drive?” arose, and out of the neighbouring -bushes the Danites led forth nine saddle-horses, bearing the comfortable -half-Mexican saddles with wooden stirrups in use here. Our choice was -quickly made, and throwing coats and waistcoats into the waggon, which -the manager good-naturedly got into himself, surrendering his horse for -the time, we joined the cavalcade in our shirts. - -A lighter-hearted party has seldom scrambled through the Tennessee -mountain roads on to this plateau. We were led by a second Etonian, also -6 ft. 2 in. in his stockings, whose Panama straw hat and white corduroys -gleamed like a beacon through the deep shadows cast by the tall pine -trees and white oaks. The geologist brought up the rear, and between -rode the rest of us--all public schoolmen, I think, another Etonian, two -from Rugby, one Harrow, one Wellington--through deep gullies, through -four streams, in one of which I nearly came to grief, from not following -my leader; but my gallant little nag picked himself up like a goat from -his floundering amongst the boulders, and so up through more open ground -till we reached this city of the future, and in the dusk saw the bright -gleam of light under the verandahs of two sightly wooden houses. In one -of these, the temporary restaurant, we were seated in a few minutes at -an excellent tea (cold beef and mutton, tomatoes, rice, cold apple-tart, -maple syrup, etc.); and during the meal the news passed round that -the hotel being as yet unfurnished and every other place filled with -workpeople, we must all (except the geologist and the Wellingtonian, -who had a room over the office) pack away in the next cottage, which had -been with difficulty reserved for us. If it had been a question of men -only, no one would have given it a thought; but our party had now been -swollen by two young ladies, who had hurried down by an earlier train -to see their brother and brother-in-law, settlers on the plateau, and -by another young Englishman who had accompanied them. A puzzle, you will -allow, when you hear a description of our tenement. It is a four-roomed -timber house, of moderate size, three rooms on the ground floor, and one -long loft upstairs. You enter through the verandah on a common room, 20 -ft. long by 14 ft. broad, opening out of which are two chambers, 14 -ft. by 10 ft. One of these was, of course, at once appropriated to the -ladies. The second, in spite of my remonstrances, was devoted to me, -as the Nestor of the party, and on entering it I found an excellent bed -(which had been made by two of the Etonians), and a great basin full of -wild-flowers on the table. There were four small beds in the loft, for -which the seven drew lots, and two of the losers spread rugs on the -floor of the common room, and the third swung a hammock in the verandah. -Up drove the mule waggon with luggage, and the way in which big and -little boxes were dealt with and distributed filled me with respect and -admiration for the rising generation. The house is ringing behind -me with silvery and bass laughter, and jokes as to the shortness of -accommodation in the matter of washing appliances, while I sit here -writing in the verandah, the light from my lamp throwing out into strong -relief the stems of the nearest trees. Above, the vault is blue beyond -all description, and studded with stars as bright as though they were -all Venuses. The katydids are making delightful music in the trees, and -the summer lightning is playing over the Western heaven; while a gentle -breeze, cool and refreshing as if it came straight off a Western sea, is -just lifting, every now and then, the corner of my paper. Were I young -again,--but as I am not likely to be that, I refrain from bootless -castle-building, and shall turn in, leaving windows wide open for the -katydid’s chirp and the divine breeze to enter freely, and wishing as -good rest as they have all so well earned to my crowded neighbours in -this enchanted solitude. - - - - -Rugby, Tennessee, 10th September 1880. - -I take it I must have “written you frequent” (as they say here), at -this time of year, in the last quarter-century on this theme, but, if -you let me, should like to go back once more on the old lines. “Loafing -as she should be taken” is likely, I fear, to become a lost art, -though to my generation it is the one luxury. A country without good -loafing-places is no longer a country for a self-respecting man in -his second half-century. The rapid deterioration of our poor dear old -England in this respect fills me with forebodings far more than the -Irish Question, which we shall worry through on the lines so staunchly -advocated by you. No fear of that, to my thinking; but, alas! great fear -of our losing the power and the means of loafing. Time was when John -Bull, in his own isle, was the best loafer in Christendom--(I may say in -the world, the Turk and Otaheitan loafer doing nothing else, and he who -does nothing but loaf loses the whole flavour of it)--and I can -remember the time when at the seaside--for instance, Cromer, and inland, -Betwys-y-Coed, Penygurd, and the like--the true loafer might be happy, -gleaning “the harvest of a quiet eye,” and far from any one who wanted -to go anywhere or do anything in particular. The railway has come -to Cromer, and I hear that the guardian phalanx of Buxtons, Hoares, -Gurneys, and Barclays, all good loafers in the last generation, have -thrown up the sponge and gone with the stream. I was at Betwys and -Penygurd last year, and at the former there were three or four long -pleasure-vans meeting every train; at the latter, three parties came in, -in a few hours, to do Snowdon and get back to dinner at Capel Curig or -Bethgellert. Indeed, I was sore to mark that even Henry Owen, landlord -and guide, once a good loafer, has succumbed., Over here it is still -worse in the Atlantic States; but this is a big country, in which oases -_must_ be left yet for many a long year for the loafer, of which this -is one. It lies on a mountain plateau, seven miles from the station, -to which a hack goes twice daily to meet the morning and evening mails -(once too often, perhaps, for the highest enjoyment of the loafer); -but otherwise the outer world, its fidgets and its businesses, no more -concern us than they did Cooper’s jackdaw. I am conscious that regular -work here must be done by some one, as daily meals at 7 A.M., and -12.30 and 6 P.M., never fail, with abundance of grapes and melons--the -peaches, alas! were cut off by frosts when the trees were in blossom. -But beyond this, and the presence of a young Englishman in the house, -who, in blue shirt and trousers, tends and milks the cows, and puts -in six or eight hours’ work a day at one thing or another in the -neighbouring fields, there is nothing to remind one that this world -doesn’t go on by itself, at any rate in these autumn days. Almost every -cottage, or shanty, as they call these attractive wooden houses, has -a deep verandah (from which you get a view, over the forest, of the -southern range of mountains, with Pilot Knob for highest point), and, -in the verandah, rocking-chairs and hammocks, in one or other of which -a chatty host or hostess is almost sure to be found, enjoying air, view, -rocking, and the indescribable depth of blue atmosphere which laps us -all round. There is surely something very uplifting in finding the sky -twice as far off as you know it at home. I felt this first on the Lower -Danube and in Greece; but I doubt if Bulgarian or Greek heavens are as -high as these. Every now and again, a merry group of young folk go by -in waggon or on horseback; but even they are loafers, as they have no -object in view beyond enjoying one another’s company, and possibly lunch -or tea at the junction of the two mountain-streams, the only lion we -have within a day’s journey. Their parents may be found for the most -part in and round the hotel, for they are wise enough to let the young -ones knock about very much as they please, while they take their own -ease in the verandahs or shady grounds of “The Tabard.” That hostelry -of historic name stands on an eminence next to this shanty, and my -“loaf-brothers,” when I get any, are generally saunterers from amongst -its guests, and the one who comes oftenest is perhaps the best loafer I -have ever come across. He is a rancheman on the Rio Grande, and has been -out here ever since he left Marlborough, some fourteen years ago. Since -then I should think he has done as hard work as any man, in the long -drives of 2000 miles which he used to make from Southern Texas up to -Colorado or Kansas, before the railway came. Even now, I take it that -for ten months in the year he covers more ground and exhausts more -tissue than most men, which makes him such a model loafer when he gets -away. Yesterday, for instance, he started after lunch from “The Tabard,” - 300 yards off, under a sort of engagement, as definite as we make -them, to spend the afternoon here. On the way he came across a hammock -swinging unoccupied in the hotel grounds, and a volume of Pendennis, -and only arrived here after supper, in the superb starlight (the moon is -objectionably late in rising just now), to smoke a pipe before bed-time. -His experience of Western life is as racy as a volume of Bret Harte. -Take the following, for instance:--At a prairie-town not far from his -ranche, as distances go in the West, there is a State Court of First -Instance, presided over by one Roy Bean, J.P., who is also the owner of -the principal grocery. Some cowboys had been drinking at the grocery one -night, with the result that one of them remained on the floor, but with -sense enough left to lie on the side of the pocket where he kept -his dollars. In the morning, it appeared that he had been -“rolled”--_Anglicè_, turned over and his pocket picked--whereupon a -court was called to try a man on whom suspicion rested. Roy Bean sat on -a barrel, swore in a jury, and then addressed the prisoner thus: “Now, -you give that man his money back.” The culprit, who had sent for the -lawyer of the place to defend him, hesitated for a moment, and then -pulled out the money. “You treat this crowd,” were Roy’s next words; -and while “drinks round” were handed to the delighted cowboys at the -prisoner’s expense, Roy pulled out his watch and went on: “You’ve got -just five minutes to clear out of this town, and if ever you come in -again, we’ll hang you.” The culprit made off just as his lawyer came up, -who remonstrated with Roy, explaining that the proper course would have -been to have heard the charge, committed the prisoner, and sent him to -the county town for trial. “And go off sixty miles, and hang round with -the boys [witnesses] for you to pull the skunk through and touch the -dollars!” said Roy scornfully; whereupon the lawyer disappeared in -pursuit of his client and unpaid fee. - -It occurs to one to ask how much of the litigation of England might be -saved if Judges of First Instance might open with Roy’s formula: “Now, -you give that man his money back.” I am bound to add that his practice -is not without its seamy side. When the railway was making, two men -came in from one of the gangs for a warrant. A brutal murder had been -committed. Roy told his clerk (the boy in the grocery, he being no -penman himself) to make out the paper, asking: “Wot’s the corpse’s -name?” “Li Hung,” was the reply. “Hold on!” shouted Roy to his clerk; -and then to the pursuers: “Ef you ken find anything in them books,” - pointing to the two or three supplied by the State, “about killin’ a -Chinaman, it ken go,” and the pursuers had to travel on to the next -fount of justice. - -Here is one more: my “loaf-brother” heard it himself as he was leaving -Texas, and laughed at it nearly all the way up. A group of cowboys at -the station were discussing the problem of how long the world would last -if this drought went on, the prevailing sentiment being that they would -rather it worruted through somehow. A cowboy down on his luck here -struck in: “Wall, if the angel stood right thar,” pointing across the -room, “ready to sound, and looked across at me, I’d jest say, ‘Gabe! -toot your old horn!’” - - - - -Rugby, Tennessee. - -I was roused at five or thereabouts on the morning after our arrival -here by a visit from a big dog belonging to a native, not quite a -mastiff, but more like that than anything else, who, seeing my window -wide open, jumped in from the verandah, and came to the bed to give me -goodmorning with tail and muzzle. I was glad to see him, having made -friends the previous evening, when the decision of his dealings with the -stray hogs who came to call on us from the neighbouring forest had won -my heart; but as his size and attentions somewhat impeded my necessarily -scanty ablutions, I had to motion him apologetically to the window when -I turned out. He obeyed at once, jumped out, laid his muzzle on the -sill, and solemnly, and, I thought, somewhat pityingly, watched my -proceedings. Meantime, I heard sounds which announced the uprising of -“the boys,” and in a few minutes several appeared in flannel shirts and -trousers, bound for one of the two rivers which run close by, in gullies -200 feet below us. They had heard of a pool ten feet deep, and found it -too; and a most delicious place it is, surrounded by great rocks, lying -in a copse of rhododendrons, azaleas, and magnolias, which literally -form the underwood of the pines and white oak along these gullies. The -water is of a temperature which allows folk whose blood is not so hot -as it used to be to lie for half an hour on its surface and play -about without a sensation of chilliness. On this occasion, however, -I preferred to let them do the exploring, and so at 6.15 went off to -breakfast. - -This is the regular hour for that meal here, dinner at twelve, and tea -at six. There is really no difference between them, except that we get -porridge at breakfast and a great abundance of vegetables at dinner. -At all of them we have tea and fresh water for drink, plates of beef or -mutton, apple sauce, rice, tomatoes, peach pies or puddings, and several -kinds of bread. As the English garden furnishes unlimited water and -other melons, and as the settlers--young English, who come in to see -us--bring sacks of apples and peaches with them, and as, moreover, the -most solvent of the boys invested at Cincinnati in a great square box -full of tinned viands of all kinds, you may see at once that in this -matter we are not genuine objects either for admiration or pity. I must -confess here to a slight disappointment. Having arrived at an age myself -when diet has become a matter of indifference, I was rather chuckling as -we came along over the coming short-commons up here, when we got fairly -loose in the woods, and the excellent discipline it would be for the -boys, especially the Londoners, to discover that the human animal can be -kept in rude health on a few daily crackers and apples, or a slap-jack -and tough pork. And now, behold, we are actually still living amongst -the flesh-pots, which I had fondly believed we had left in your Eastern -Egypt; and I am bound to add, “the boys” seem as provokingly indifferent -to them as if their beards were getting grizzled. One lives and learns, -but I question whether these states are quite the place to bring home -to our Anglo-Saxon race the fact that we are an overfed branch of the -universal brotherhood. Tanner, I fear, has fasted in vain. - -Breakfast was scarcely over, when there was a muster of cavalry. -Every horse that could be spared or requisitioned was in demand for an -exploring ride to the west, and soon every charger was bestrid by “a -boy” in free-and-easy garments, and carrying a blanket for camping out. -Away they went under the pines and oaks, a merry lot, headed by our -geologist, who knows the forest by this time like a native, and whose -shocking old straw blazed ahead in the morning sun like, shall we say, -“the helmet of Navarre,” or Essex’s white hat and plumes before the -Train Bands, as they crowned the ridge where Falkland fell and his -monument now stands, at the battle of Newbury. Charles Kingsley’s lines -came into my head, as I turned pensively to my table in the verandah to -write to you:-- - - When all the world is young, lad, and all the trees are green; - - And every goose a swan, lad, and every lass a queen; - - Then hey for boot and horse, lad, and round the world away; - - Young blood must have its course, lad, and every dog his day. - -Our two lasses are, undoubtedly, queens out here. The thought occurs, -are our swans--our visions, already so bright, of splendid crops, and -simple life, to be raised and lived in this fairyland--to prove geese? I -hope not. It would be the downfall of the last castle in Spain I am ever -likely to build. - -On reaching our abode, I was aware of the Forester coming across from -the English garden, of which he has charge, followed by a young native. -He walked up to me, and announced that they were come across to tidy -up, and _black the boots_. Here was another shock, that we should -be followed by the lumber of civilisation so closely! Will boots be -blacked, I wonder, in the New Jerusalem? I was at first inclined to -protest, while they made a collection, and set them out on the verandah, -but the sight of the ladies’ neat little high-lows made me pause. -These, at any rate, it seemed to me, _should_ be blacked, even in the -Millennium. Next minute I was so tickled by a little interlude between -the Forester and the native, that all idea of remonstrance vanished. The -latter, contemplating the boots and blacking-pot and brushes--from under -the shapeless piece of old felt, by way of hat, of the same mysterious -colour as the ragged shirt and breeches, his only other garments--joined -his hands behind his back, and said, in their slow way, “Look ’ere, Mr. -Hill, ain’t this ’ere pay-day?” The drift was perfectly obvious. -This citizen had no mind to turn shoe-black, and felt like discharging -himself summarily. Mr. Hill, who was already busily sweeping the -verandah, put down his broom, and after a short colloquy, which I did -not quite catch, seized on a boot and brush, and began shining away with -an artistic stroke worthy of one of the Shoeblack Brigade at the London -Bridge Station. The native looked on for a minute, and then slowly -unclasped his hands. Presently he picked up a boot and looked round -it dubiously. I now took a hand myself. If there was one art which -I learned to perfection at school, and still pride myself on, it is -shining a boot. In a minute or two my boot was beginning “to soar and -sing,” while the Forester’s was already a thing of beauty. The native, -with a grunt, took up the spare brush, and began slowly rubbing. The -victory was complete. He comes now and spends two hours every morning -over his new accomplishment, evidently delighted with the opportunity it -gives him for loafing and watching the habits of the strange occupants, -for whom also he fetches many tin pails of water from the well, in a -slow, vague manner. He has even volunteered to fix up the ladies’ room -and fill their bath (an offer which has been declined, with thanks), but -I doubt whether he will ever touch the point of a genuine “shine.” - -They are a curious people, these natives, as the Forester (an -Englishman, reared in Lord Denbigh’s garden at Newnham Paddocks, and -thirty years out here) told me, as we walked off to examine the English -garden, but I must keep his experiences and my own observation for -separate treatment. The English garden is the most advanced, and, I -think, the most important and interesting feature of this settlement. -If young Englishmen of small means are to try their fortunes here, it is -well that they should have trustworthy guidance at once as to what are -the best crops to raise. With this view, Mr. Hill was placed, in the -spring of this year, in charge of the only cleared space available. All -the rest is beautiful, open forest-land. You can ride or drive almost -anywhere under the trees, but there is no cultivated spot for many -miles, except small patches here and there of carelessly sown maize and -millet, and a rood or two of sweet potatoes. The Forester had a hard -struggle to do anything with the garden at all this season. He was only -put in command in May, six weeks at least too late. He could only -obtain the occasional use of a team, and his duties in the forest and in -grading and superintending the walks interfered with the garden. Manure -was out of the question, except a little ashes, which he painfully -gathered here and there from the reckless log-fires which abound in the -woods. He calls his garden a failure for the year. But as half an acre -which was wild forest-land in May is covered with water-melons and -cantalupes, as the tomatoes hang in huge bunches, rotting on the vines -for want of mouths enough to eat them, as the Lima beans are yielding at -the rate of 250 bushels an acre, and as cabbages, sweet potatoes, beets, -and squash are in equally prodigal abundance, the prospect of making a -good living is beyond all question, for all who will set to work with a -will. - -In the afternoon, I inspected the hotel, nearly completed, on a knoll -in the forest, between the English garden and this frame-house. It is a -sightly building, with deep verandahs prettily latticed, from which -one gets glimpses through the trees of magnificent ranges of blue -forest-covered mountains. We have named it “The Tabard,” at the -suggestion of one of our American members, who, being in England when -the old Southwark hostelry from which the Canterbury Pilgrims started -was broken up, and the materials sold by auction, to make room for a hop -store, bought some of the old banisters, which he has reverently kept -till now. They will be put up in the hall of the new Tabard, and -marked with a brass plate and inscription, telling, I trust, to -many generations of the place from which they came. The Tabard, when -finished, as it will be in a few days, will lodge some fifty guests; -and, in spite of the absence of alcoholic drinks, has every chance, if -present indications can be trusted, of harbouring and sending out as -cheery pilgrims as followed the Miller and the Host, and told their -world-famous stories five hundred years ago. - -The drink question has reared its baleful head here, as it seems to do -all over the world. The various works had gone on in peace till the last -ten days, when two young natives toted over some barrels of whisky, and -broached them in a shanty, on a small lot of no-man’s land in the woods, -some two miles from hence. Since then there has been no peace for the -manager. Happily the feeling of the community is vigorously temperate, -so energetic measures are on foot to root out the pest. A wise state -law enacts that no liquor store shall be permitted under heavy penalties -within four miles of an incorporated school; so we are pushing on our -school-house, and organising a board to govern it. Meantime, we have -evidence of unlawful sale (in quantities less than a pint), and of -encouraging gambling, by these pests, and hope to make an example of -them at the next sitting of the county court. This incident has decided -the question for us. If we are to have influence with the poor whites -and blacks, we must be above suspicion ourselves. So no liquor will be -procurable at the Tabard, and those who need it will have to import for -themselves. - -A bridle-path leads from the hotel down to the Clear Fork, one of the -streams at the junction of which the town site is situate. The descent -is about 200 feet, and the stream, when you get to it, from thirty -feet to fifty feet wide,--a mountain stream, with deep pools and big -boulders. Your columns are not the place for descriptions of scenery, so -I will only say that these gorges of the Clear Fork and White Oak are -as fine as any of their size that I know in Scotland, and not unlike in -character, with this difference, that the chief underwood here consists -of rhododendron (called laurel here), azalea, and a kind of magnolia I -have not seen before, and of which I cannot get the name. I passed huge -faggots of rhododendron, twelve feet and fourteen feet long, lying by -the walks, which had been cleared away ruthlessly while grading them. -They are three miles long and cost under £100, a judicious outlay, I -think, even before an acre of land has been sold. They have been named -the Lovers’ Walks, appropriately enough, for no more well-adapted place -could possibly be found for that time-honoured business, especially in -spring, when the whole gorges under the tall pines and white oak are one -blaze of purple, yellow, and white blossom. - -On my return to the plateau, my first day’s experiences came to an end -in a way which no longer surprised me, after the boot-blacking and the -Lovers’ Walks. I was hailed by one of “the boys,” who had been unable to -obtain a mount, or had some business which kept him from exploring. He -was in flannels, with racquet in hand, on his way to the lawn-tennis -ground, to which he offered to pilot me. In a minute or two we came upon -an open space, marked, I see on the plans, “Cricket Ground,” in which -rose a fine, strong paling, enclosing a square of 150 feet, the uprights -being six feet high, and close enough to keep, not only boys out, -but tennis-balls in. Turf there was none, in our sense, within the -enclosure, and what there must have once been as a substitute for turf -had been carefully cleared off on space sufficient for one full-sized -court, which was well marked out on the hard, sandy loam. A better -ground I have rarely seen, except for the young sprouts of oak, and -other scrub, which here and there were struggling up, in a last effort -to assert their “ancient, solitary reign.” At any rate, then and there, -upon that court, I saw two sets played in a style which would have done -credit to a county match (the young lady, by the way, who played far -from the worst game of the four, is the champion of her own county). -This was the opening match, the racquets having only just arrived from -England, though the court has been the object of tender solicitude for -six weeks or more to the four Englishmen already resident here or near -by. The Rugby Tennis Club consists to-day of seven members, five English -and two native, and will probably reach two figures within a few days on -the return of the boys. Meantime the effect of their first practice has -been that they have resolved on putting a challenge in the Cincinnati -and Chatanooga papers offering to play a match--best out of five -sets--with any club in the United States. Such are infant communities, -in these latitudes! - -You may have been startled by the address at the head of this letter. -It was adopted unanimously on our return in twilight from the -tennis-ground, and application at once made to the State authorities -for registration of the name and establishment of a post-office. It was -sharp practice thus to steal a march on the three Etonians, still far -away in the forest. Had they been present, possibly Thames might have -prevailed over Avon. - - - - -A Forest Ride, Rugby, Tennessee. - -There are few more interesting experiences than a ride through these -southern forests. The scrub is so low and thin, that you can almost -always see away for long distances amongst pine, white oak, and chestnut -trees; and every now and then at ridges where the timber is thin, or -where a clump of trees has been ruthlessly “girdled,” and the bare, -gaunt skeletons only remain standing, you may catch glimpses of mountain -ranges of different shades of blue and green, stretching far away to the -horizon. You can’t live many days up here without getting to love the -trees even more, I think, than we do in well-kempt England; and this -outrage of “girdling,” as they call it--stripping the bark from the -lower part of the trunk, so that the trees wither and die as they -stand--strikes one as a kind of household cruelty, as if a man should -cut off or disfigure all his wife’s hair. If he wants a tree for lumber -or firewood, very good. He should have it. But he should cut it down -like a man, and take it clean away for some reasonable use, not leave it -as a scarecrow to bear witness of his recklessness and laziness. Happily -not much mischief of this kind has been done yet in the neighbourhood -of Rugby, and a stop will now be put to the wretched practice. There -is another, too, almost as ghastly, but which, no doubt, has more to be -said for it. At least half of the largest pines alongside of the sandy -tracts which do duty for roads have a long, gaping wound in their sides, -about a yard from the ground. This was the native way of collecting -turpentine, which oozed down and accumulated at the bottom of the gash; -but I rejoice to say it no longer pays, and the custom is in disuse. It -must be suppressed altogether, but carefully and gently. It seems that -if not persisted in too long, the poor, dear, long-suffering trees will -close up their wounds, and not be much the worse: so I trust that many -of the scored pines, springing forty or fifty feet into the air before -throwing out a branch, which I passed in sorrow and anger on my first -long ride, may yet outlive those who outraged them. Having got rid of my -spleen, excited by these two diabolic customs, I can return to our ride, -which had otherwise nothing but delight in it. - -The manager, an invaluable guest from New York, a doctor, who had served -on the Sanitary Commission through the war, and I, formed the party. -The manager drove the light buggy, which held one of us also, and the -handbags 3 while the other rode by the side, where the road allowed, or -before or behind, as the fancy seized him. We were bound for a -solitary guest-house in the forest, some seventeen miles away, in the -neighbourhood of a cave and waterfall which even here have a reputation, -and are sometimes visited. We allowed three and a half hours for the -journey, and it took all the time. About five miles an hour on wheels -is all you can reckon on, for the country roads, sandy tracts about ten -feet broad, are just left to take care of themselves, and wherever there -is a sufficient declivity to give the rain a chance of washing all the -surface off them, are just a heap of boulders of different sizes. But, -after all, five miles an hour is as fast as you care to go, for the play -of the sunlight amongst the varied foliage, and the new flora and fauna, -keep you constantly interested and amused. I never regretted so much -my ignorance of botany, for I counted some fourteen sorts of flowers in -bloom, of which golden-rod and Michaelmas-daisy were the only ones I was -quite sure I knew,--and by the way, the daisy of Parnassus, of which -I found a single flower growing by a spring. The rest were like home -flowers, but yet not identical with them--at least, I think not--and the -doubt whether one had ever seen them before or not was provoking. The -birds--few in number--were all strangers to me; buzzards, of which we -saw five at one time, quite within shot, and several kinds of hawk and -woodpecker, were the most common; but at one point, quite a number of -what looked like very big swifts, but without the dash in their flight -of our bird, and with wings more like curlews’, were skimming over the -tree-tops..1 only heard one note, and that rather sweet, a cat-bird’s, -the doctor thought; but he was almost as much a stranger in these woods -as I. Happily, however, he was an old acquaintance of that delightful -insect, the “tumble-bug,” to which he introduced me on a sandy bit -of road. The gentleman in question took no notice of me, but went on -rolling his lump of accumulated dirt three times his own size backwards -with his hind legs, as if his life depended on it. Presently his lump -came right up against a stone and stopped dead. It was a “caution” to -see that bug strain to push it farther, but it wouldn’t budge, all he -could do. Then he stopped for a moment or two, and evidently made up his -small mind that something must be wrong behind, for no bug could have -pushed harder than he. So he quitted hold with his hind legs, and turned -round to take a good look at the situation, in order, I suppose, to see -what must be done next. At any rate, he presently caught hold again on -a different side, and so steered successfully past the obstacle. There -were a number of them working about, some single and some in pairs, and -so full of humour are their doings that I should have liked to watch for -hours. - -We got to our journey’s end about dusk, a five-roomed, single-storied, -wooden house, built on supports, so as to keep it off the ground. We -went up four steps to the verandah, where we sat while our hostess, a -small, thin New Englander, probably seventy or upwards, but as brisk -as a bee, bustled about to get supper. The table was laid in the middle -room, which opened on the kitchen at the back, where we could see the -stove, and hear our hostess’s discourse. She boiled us two of her fine -white chickens admirably, and served with hot bread, tomatoes, sweet -potatoes, and several preserves, of which I can speak with special -praise of the huckleberry, which grows, she said, in great abundance all -round. _The boys_, we heard, had been there to breakfast, after sleeping -out, and not having had a square meal since they started. Luckily for -us, her white chickens are a very numerous as well as beautiful family, -or we should have fared badly. She and her husband supped after us, and -then came and sat with us in the balcony, and talked away on all manner -of topics, as if the chances of discourse were few, and to be made the -most of. They had lived at Jamestown, close by, a village of some -eight or ten houses, all through the war, through which the Confederate -cavalry had passed again and again. They had never molested her or hers -in any way, but had a fancy for poultry, which might have proved fatal -to her white family, but for her Yankee wit. She and her husband managed -to fix up a false floor in one of their rooms in which they fed the -roosters, so whenever a picket came in sight, her call would bring the -whole family out of the woods and clearing into the refuge, where they -remained peacefully amongst corn-cobs till the danger had passed. She -had nothing but good to say of her native neighbours, except that they -could make nothing of the country. The Lord had done all He could for -it, she summed up, and Boston must take hold of the balance. We heard -the owls all night, as well as the katydids, but they only seemed to -emphasise the forest stillness. The old lady’s beds, to which we retired -at ten, after our long gossip in the balcony, were sweet and clean, and -I escaped perfectly scatheless, a rare experience, I was assured, in -these forest shanties. I was bound, however, to admit, in answer to our -hostess’s searching inquiries, that I had seen, and slain, though not -felt, an insect suspiciously like a British B flat. - -The cave which we sought out after breakfast was well worth any trouble -to find. We had to leave the buggy and horses hitched up and scramble -down a glen, where presently, through a tangle of great rhododendron -bushes, we came on a rock, with the little iron-stained stream just -below us, and opposite, at the top of a slope of perhaps fifteen or -twenty feet, was the cave, like a long black eye under a red eyebrow, -glaring at us. I could detect no figure in the sandstone rock (the -eyebrow), which hung over it for its whole length. The cave is said to -run back more than 300 feet, but we did not test it. There would be good -sitting-room for 300 or 400 people along the front, and so obviously -fitted for a conventicle, that I could not help peopling it with -fugitive slaves, and fancying a black Moses preaching to them of their -coming Exodus, with the rhododendrons in bloom behind. Maidenhair grow -in tufts about the damp floor, and a creeping fern, with a bright red -berry, the name of which the doctor told me, but I have forgotten, on -the damp, red walls. What the nook must be when the rhododendrons are -all ablaze with blossom, I hope some day to see. - -We had heard of a fine spring somewhere in this part of the forest, -and in aid of our search for it presently took up a boy whom we found -loafing round a small clearing. He was bare-headed and bare-footed, -and wore an old, brown, ragged shirt turned up to the elbows, and old, -brown, ragged trousers turned up to the knees. I was riding, and in -answer to my invitation he stepped on a stump and vaulted up behind me. -He never touched me, as most boys would have done, but sat up behind -with perfect ease and balance as we rode along, a young centaur. We -soon got intimate, and I found he had never been out of the forest, was -fourteen, and still at (occasional) school. He could read a little, but -couldn’t write. I told him to tell his master, from me, that he ought -to be ashamed of himself, which he promised to do with great glee; also, -but not so readily, to consider a proposal I made him, that if he would -write to the manager within six months to ask for it, he should be paid -$1. I found that he knew nothing of the flowers or butterflies, of which -some dozen different kinds crossed our path. He just reckoned they were -all butterflies, as indeed they were. He knew, however, a good deal -about the trees and shrubs, and more about the forest beasts. Had seen -several deer only yesterday, and an old opossum with nine young, a -number which took the doctor’s breath away. There were lots of foxes in -the woods, but he did not see them so often. His face lighted up when he -was promised $2 for the first opossum he would tame and bring across to -Rugby. After guiding us to the spring, and hunting out an old wooden cup -amongst the bushes, he went off cheerily through the bushes, with two -quarter-dollar bits in his pocket, an interesting young wild man. Will -he ever bring the opossum? - -We got back without further incident (except flushing quite a number of -quail, which must be lovely shooting in these woods), and found the boys -at home, and hard at lawn-tennis and well-digging. The hogs are becoming -an object of their decided animosity, and having heard of a Yankee -notion, a sort of tweezers, which ring a hog by one motion, in a second, -they are going to get it, and then to catch and ring every grunter who -shows his nose near the asylum. Out of this there should come some fun, -shortly. - - - - -The Natives, Rugby, Tennessee. - -When all is said and sung, there is nothing so interesting as the man -and woman who dwell on any corner of the earth; so, before giving you -any further details of our surroundings, or doings, or prospects, let me -introduce you to our neighbours, so far as I have as yet the pleasure of -their acquaintance. And I am glad at once to acknowledge that it _is_ a -pleasure, notwithstanding all the talk we have heard of “mean whites,” - “poor, white trash,” and the like, in novels, travels, and newspapers. -It may possibly be that we have been fortunate, and that our neighbours -here are no fair specimens of the “poor whites” of the South. This, and -the next three counties, are in the north-western corner of Tennessee, -bordering on Kentucky. They are entirely mountain land. There are very -few negroes in them, and they were strongly Unionist during the war. -At present, they are Republican, almost to a man. There is not one -Democratic official in this county, and I am told that only three votes -were cast for the Democratic candidates at the last State elections. -They are overwhelmed by the vote of western and central Tennessee, which -carries the State with the solid South; but here Union men can speak -their minds freely, and cover their walls with pictures in coloured -broad-sheet of the heroes of the war,--Lincoln, Governor Brownlow, Grant -and his captains. They are poor almost to a man, and live in log-huts -and cabins which, at home, could scarcely be rivalled out of Ireland. -Within ten miles of this place there are possibly half a dozen (I have -seen two) which are equal in accommodation and comfort to those of good -farmers in England. The best of these belongs to our nearest neighbour, -with whom a party of us dined, at noon, the orthodox hour in the -mountains, some weeks since. He is a wiry man, of middle height, -probably fifty-five years of age, upright, with finely cut features, and -an eye that looks you right in the face. He has been on his farm twenty -years, and has cleared some fifty acres, which grow corn, millet, and -vegetables, and he has a fine apple orchard. We should call his farming -very slovenly, but it produces abundance for his needs. He sat at the -head of his table like an old nobleman, very quiet and courteous, but -quite ready to speak on any subject, and especially of the five years -of the war through which he carried his life in his hand, but never -flinched for an hour from his faith. His wife, a slight, elderly person, -whose regular features showed that she must have been very good-looking, -did not sit down with us, but stood at the bottom of the table, -dispensing her good things. Our drink was tea and cold spring water; our -viands, chickens, ducks, a stew, ham, with a profusion of vegetables, -apple and huckleberry tarts, and several preserves, one of which (some -kind of cherry, very common here) was of a lovely gold colour, and of -a flavour which would make the fortune of a London pastry-cook; a -profusion of water-melons and apples finished our repast; and no one -need ask a better,--but I am bound to add that our hostess has the name -for giving the best square meal to be had in the four counties. It -would be as fair to take this as an average specimen of the well-to-do -farmers’ fare here, as that of a nobleman with a French cook of -the gentry at home. Our host is a keen sportsman, and showed us his -flint-lock rifle, six feet long, and weighing 16 lbs.! He carries a -forked stick as a rest, and, we were assured, gets on his game about -as quickly as if it were a handy Westley-Richards, and seldom misses -a running deer. The vast majority of these mountaineers are in very -different circumstances. Most, but not all of them, own a log cabin and -minute patch of corn round it, probably also a few pigs and chickens, -but seem to have no desire to make any effort at further clearing, and -quite content to live from hand to mouth. They cannot do that without -hiring themselves out when they get a chance, but are most uncertain and -exasperating labourers. In the first place, though able, to stand great -fatigue in hunting and perfectly indifferent to weather, they are not -physically so strong as average English or Northern men. Then they are -never to be relied on for a job. As soon as one of them has earned three -or four dollars, he will probably want a hunt, and go off for it then -and there, spend a dollar on powder and shot, and these on squirrels and -opossums, whose skins may possibly bring him in ten cents as his week’s -earnings. It is useless to remonstrate, unless you have an agreement in -writing. An Englishman who came here lately, to found some manufactures, -left in sheer despair and disgust, saying he had found at last a place -where no one seemed to care for money. I do not say that this is true, -but they certainly seem to prefer loafing and hunting to dollars, and -are often too lazy, or unable, to count, holding out their small change -and telling you to take what you want. Temperate as a rule, they are -sadly weak when wild-cat whisky or “moonshine,” as the favourite illicit -beverage of the mountains is called, crosses their path. This is the -great trouble on pay nights at all the works which are starting in -this district. The inevitable booth soon appears, with the usual -accompaniment of cards and dice, and probably a third of your men are -thenceforth without a dime and utterly unfit for work on Mondays, if -you are lucky enough to escape dangerous rows amongst the drinkers. The -State laws give summary methods of suppressing the nuisance, but they -are hard to work, and though public sentiment is vehemently hostile to -whisky, the temptation proves in nine cases out of ten too strong. The -mountaineers are in the main well-grown men, though slight, shockingly -badly clothed, and sallow from chewing tobacco; suspicious in all -dealings at first, but hospitable, making everything they have in the -house, including their own beds, free to a stranger, and generally -refusing payment for lodging or food. They are also very honest, crimes -against property (though not against the person) being of very rare -occurrence. The other day, a Northern gentleman visiting here expressed -his fears to a native farmer, who, after inquiring whether there were -any prisons and police in New England, what these were for, and whether -his interrogator had locks to his doors and his safes, and bars to his -window-shutters, remarked, “Wal, I’ve lived here man and boy for forty -year, and never had a bolt to my house, or corn-loft, or smoke-house, -and I’ll give you a dollar for every lock you can find in Scott county.” - The cattle, sheep, and hogs wander perfectly unguarded through the -forest, and I have not yet heard of a single instance of a stolen beast. - -There is a rough water-mill on a creek close by, called Back’s Mill, -which was run by the owner for years--until he sold it a few months -ago--on the following system. He put the running gear and stones up, and -above the latter a wooden box, with the charge for grinding meal marked -outside. He visited the mill once a fortnight, looked to the machinery, -and took away whatever coin was in the box. Folks brought their corn -down the steep bank if they chose, ground it at their leisure, and then, -if they were honest, put the fee in the box; if not, they went off with -their meal, and a consciousness that they were rogues. I presume Buck -found his plan answer, as he pursued it up to the date of sale. - -In short, sir, I have been driven to the conclusion, in spite of all -traditional leanings the other way, that the Lord has much people in -these mountains, as I think a young English deacon, lately ordained -by the Bishop of Tennessee, will find, who passed here yesterday on a -buggy, with his young wife and child, and two boxes and ten dollars -of the goods of this world, on his way to open a church mission in a -neighbouring county. I heard yesterday a story which should give him -hope as to the female portion, at any rate, of his possible flock. They -are dreadful slatterns, without an inkling of the great Palmerstonian -truth that dirt is matter in its _wrong_ place. A mountain girl, -however, who had, strange to say, taken the fancy to go as housemaid -in a Knoxville family, gave out that she had been converted, and, upon -doubts being expressed and questions asked as to the grounds on which -she based the assurance, replied that she knew it was all right, because -now she swept underneath the rugs. - -When one gets on stories of quaint and ready replies in these parts, one -“slops over on both shoulders.” Here are a couple which are current in -connection with the war, upon which, naturally enough, the whole mind -of the people is still dwelling, being as much occupied with it as with -their other paramount subject, the immediate future development of the -unbounded resources of these States, which have been really opened for -the first time by that terrible agency. An active Secessionist leader in -a neighbouring county, in one of his stump speeches before the war, had -announced that the Southerners, and especially Tennessee mountain men, -could whip the white-livered Yanks with pop-guns. Not long since, having -been amnestied and reconstructed again to a point when he saw his way -to running for a State office, he was reminded of this saying at the -beginning of his canvas. “Wal, yes,” he said, “he owned to that and -stood by it still, only those mean cusses [the Yanks] wouldn’t fight -that way.” - -The other is of very different stamp, and will hold its own with many -world-wide stories of graceful compliments to former enemies by kings -and other big-wigs. General Wilder, one of the most successful and -gallant of the Northern corps commanders in the war, has established -himself in this State, with whose climate and resources he became so -familiar in the campaign which ended under Look-out Mountain, and has -built up a great iron industry at Chatanooga, in full sight of the -battlefields from which 14,000 bodies of Union soldiers were carried to -the national cemetery. Early in his Southern career he met one of the -most famous of the Southern corps commanders (Forrest, I believe, but -am not sure as to the name), who, on being introduced, said, “General, -I have long wished to know you, because you have behaved to me in a way -for which I reckon you owe me an apology, as between gentlemen.” - -Wilder replied in astonishment that to his knowledge they had never met -before, but that he was quite ready to do all that an honourable man -ought. “Well now, General,” said the other, “you remember such and -such a fight (naming it)? By night you had taken every gun I had, and I -consider that quite an ungentlemanly advantage to take, anyhow.” By the -way, no man bears more frank testimony to the gallantry of the Southern -soldiers than General Wilder, or admits more frankly the odds which the -superior equipment of the Federals threw against the Confederate armies. -His corps, mounted infantry, armed with repeating rifles, were equal, -he thinks, to at least three times their numbers of as good soldiers -as themselves with the ordinary Southern arms. There are few pleasanter -things to a hearty well-wisher, who has not been in America for ten -years, than the change which has taken place in public sentiment, -indicated by such frank admissions as the one just referred to. In -1870, any expression of admiration for the gallantry of the South, or -of respect or appreciation of such men as Lee, Jackson, Longstreet, or -Johnson, was received either silently, or with strong disapproval. How -it is quite the other way, so far as I have seen as yet, and I cannot -but hope that the last scars of the mighty struggle are healing up -rapidly and thoroughly, and that the old sectional hatred and scorn lie -six feet under ground, in the national cemeteries:-- - - No more shall the war-cry sever, - - Or the inland rivers run red; - - We have buried our anger for ever, - - In the sacred graves of the dead. - - Under the sod and the dew, - - Waiting the Judgment Day; - - Love and tears for the blue! - - Tears and love for the gray! - -No man can live for a few weeks on these Cumberland Mountains, without -responding with a hearty “Amen!” - - - - -Our Forester, Rugby, Tennessee. - -Nothing would satisfy our Forester but that some of us should ride over -with him, some nine miles through the forest, to see Glades, the farm -upon which he has been for the last eight years. He led the way, on his -yellow mare, an animal who had nearly given us sore trouble here. The -head stableman turned all the horses out one day for a short run, and -she being amongst them, and loving her old home best, went off straight -for Glades through the woods, with every hoof after her. Luckily, -Alfred, the Forester’s son, was there, and guessing what was the -matter, just rode her back, all the rest following. The ride was lovely, -glorious peeps of distant blue ranges, and the forest just breaking out -all over into golds, and vermilions, and purples, and russets. We only -passed two small farms on the way, both ramshackle, and so the treat of -coming suddenly on some one hundred acres cleared, drained, with large, -though rough, farm buildings, and bearing the look of being cared for, -was indescribably pleasant. Mrs. Hill and her son Alfred received us, -both worthy of the head of the house; more I cannot say. They run the -farm in his absence with scarcely any help, Alfred having also to attend -to a grist and saw mill in the neighbouring creek. There were a fine -mare and filly in the yard, as tame as pet dogs, coming and shoving -their noses into your pockets and coaxing you for apples. The hogs are -good Berkshire breed, the sheep Cotswolds. The cows (it is the only -place where we have had cream on the mountains), Alderney or shorthorns. -The house is a large log-cabin, one big room, with a deep, open -fireplace, with a great pine-log smouldering at the back across plain -iron dogs, a big hearth in front, on which pitch-pine chips are thrown -when you feel inclined for a blaze. The room is carpeted and hung with -photographs and prints, a rifle and shot gun, and implements of one kind -or another. A small collection of books, mostly theological, and founded -on two big Bibles, two rocking and half a dozen other chairs, a table, -and two beds in the corners furthest from the fire, complete the -furniture of the room, which opens on one side on a deep verandah, and -on the other on a lean-to, which serves for kitchen and diningroom, -and ends in a small, spare bedroom. A loft above, into which the family -disappeared at night, completes the accommodation. I need not dwell on -our supper, which included tender mutton, chickens, apple-tart, custard -pudding, and all manner of vegetables and cakes. Mrs. Hill is as notable -a cook as her husband is a forester. After supper we drew round the big -fireplace, and soon prevailed on our host to give us a sketch of his -life, by way of encouragement to his three young countrymen who sat -round, and are going to try their fortunes in these mountains:-- - -“I was born and bred up in one of Lord Denbigh’s cottages, at Kirby, in -Warwickshire. My father was employed on the great place, that’s Newnham -Paddocks, you know. He was a labourer, and brought up sixteen children, -not one of whom, except me, has ever been summonsed before a justice, -or got into any kind of trouble. I went to school till about nine, but I -was always longing to be out in the fields at plough or birdkeeping; so -I got away before I could do much reading or writing. But I kept on -at Sabbath School, and learnt more than I did at the other. The young -ladies used to teach us, and they’d set us pieces and things to learn -for them in the week. My Cæsar (the only ejaculation Amos allows -himself; he cannot remember where he picked it up), how I would work at -my piece to get it for Lady Mary! I’ve fairly cried over it sometimes, -but I always managed to get it, somehow. After a bit, I was taken on at -the house. At first, I did odd jobs, like cleaning boots and carrying -messages; and then I got into the garden, and from that into the stable, -and then for a bit with the keepers, and then into livery, to wait on -the young ladies. So you see I learnt something of everything, and was -happy, and earning good wages. But I wanted to see the world, so I took -service with a gentleman who was a big railway contractor. I used to -drive him, and do anything a’most that he wanted. I stayed with him nine -years, and ’twas while going about with him that I met my wife here. -We got married down in Kent, thirty-six years ago. Yes (in answer to -a laughing comment by his wife), I wanted some one to mind me in those -days. That poaching trouble came about this way. I had charge for my -master of a piece of railway that ran through Lord--------‘s preserves, -in Wales. There were very strict rules about trespassing on the lines -then, because folks there didn’t like our line, and had been putting -things on it to upset the trains. One day I saw two keepers coming down -the line, with a labourer I knew between them. He was all covered with -blood, from a wound in his head. ‘Why,’ said I, ‘what’s the matter now?’ -‘I’ve been out of work,’ he said, ‘this three weeks, and I was digging -out a rabbit to get something to eat, when they came up and broke my -head.’ From that time the keepers and I quarrelled. I summonsed them, -and got them fined for trespassing on the line; and then they got me -fined for trespassing on their covers. We watched one another like -hawks. I’d often lie out at night for hours in the cold, in a ditch, -where I knew they’d want to cross the line, and then jump up and catch -them; and they’d do the same by me. Once they got me fined £3: 10s. for -poaching. I remember it well. I was that riled, I said to the justices -right out, ‘How long do you think it’ll take me, gentlemen, to pay -all that money, with hares only 1d. apiece?’ Then I went in for it. -I remembered the text, ‘What thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy -might.’ I did it. I used to creep along at night, all up the fences, and -feel for the places where the hares came through, and set my wires; and -I’d often have ten great ones screaming and flopping about like mad. And -that’s what the keepers were, too. I’ve given a whole barrowful of -hares away to the poor folk of a morning. Well, I know (in answer to an -interpellation of Mrs. Hill), yes, ’twas all wrong, and I was a wild -chap in those days. Then I begun to hear talk about America, and all -there was for a man to see and do there, so I left my master, and we -came over, twenty-seven years ago. At first I took charge of gentlemen’s -gardens, in New York and New Jersey. Then we went to Miscejan, where I -could earn all I wanted. Money was of no account there for a good man -in those days, but the climate was dreadful sickly, and we had our baby; -the first we had in twelve years, and wanted to live on bread and water, -so as we could save him. So we went up right amongst the Indians, to a -place they call Grand Travers, a wonderful healthy place, on a lake -in the pine-forest country, as it was then. I went on to a promontory, -where the forest stood, not like it does here, but the trees that thick, -you had scarce room to swing an axe. Well, it was a beautiful healthy -place, and we and baby throve, and I soon made a farm; and then folk -began to follow after us, and before I left, there were twenty-three -saw-mills, cutting up from 80,000 to 150,000 feet a day, week in and -out. They’ve stripped the country so now, that there’s no lumber for -those mills to cut, and most of them have stopped. I used to have a -boat, with just a small sail, and I’d take my stuff down in the morning, -and trade it off to the lumber-men, and then sail back at night, for -the wind always changed and blew back in the evenings, most part of -the year. Well, then, the war came, and for two years I kept thinking -whether I oughtn’t to do my part to help the Government I’d lived under -so long. Besides, I hated slavery. So in the third year I made up my -mind, and ’listed in the Michigan Cavalry. I took the whole matter -before the Lord, and prayed I might do my duty as a soldier, and not -hurt any man. Well, we joined the Cavalry, near 60,000 strong down in -these parts; and I was at Knoxville, and up and down. It was awful, the -language and the ways of the men, many of them at least, swearing, and -drinking, and stealing any kind of thing they could lay hands on. Many’s -the plan for stealing I’ve broken up, telling them they were there to -sustain the flag, not to rob poor folks. I spoke very plain all along, -and got the men, many of them any way, to listen. I got on famously, -too, because I was never away plundering, and my horse was always ready -for any service. An officer would come in, after we had had a long day’s -work, to say a despatch or message must go, and no horse in our company -was fit to go but mine, so the orderly must have him; but I always said -no, I was quite ready to go myself, but would not part company from my -horse. The only time 1 took what was not mine was when we surprised a -Confederate convoy, and got hold of the stores they were carrying. There -they were lying all along the roads, greatcoats and blankets, and meal -bags, and good boots, with English marks on them. My Cæsar, how our men -were destroying them! I got together a lot of the poor, starving folk -out of the woods that both sides had been living on, and loaded them up -with meal and blankets. My Cæsar, how I loved to scatter them English -boots! They never had seen such before. No, sir (in reply to one of us), -I never fired a shot all that time, but I had hundreds fired at me. I’ve -been in the rifle-pits, and now and again seen a fellow drawing a bead -on me, and I’d duck down and hear the bullet ping into the bank close -above. They got to employ me a good deal carrying despatches and -scouting. That’s how I got took at last. We were at a place called -Strawberry Plains, with Breckenridge’s division pretty near all round -us. I was sent out with twelve other men, to try and draw them out, to -show their force and position; and so we did, but they were too quick -for us. Out they came, and it was a race back to our lines down a steep -creek. My horse missed his footing, and down we rolled over and over, -into the water. When I got up, I was up to my middle, and, first thing -I knew, there was a rebel, who swore at me for a G--d d------Yankee, and -fired his six shooter at me. The shot passed under my arm, and before he -could fire again an officer ordered him on, and gave me in charge. I was -taken to the rear, and marched off with a lot of prisoners. The rebels -treated me as if I’d been their father, after a day or two. I spoke out -to them about their swearing and ways, just as I had to our men; and -I might have been tight all the time I was a prisoner, only I’m a -temperance man. They put me on their horses on the march, and I was glad -of it, for I was hurt by my roll with my horse, and had about the chest. -After about six days I got my parole, with five others. They were hard -pressed then and didn’t want us toting along. Then we started north, -with nothing but just our uniforms, and they full of vermin. The first -house we struck I asked where we could find a Union man about there. -They didn’t know any one, didn’t think there was one in the county. I -said that was bad, as we were paroled Union soldiers,--and then all -was changed. They took us in and wanted us to use their beds, which we -wouldn’t do, because of the vermin on us. They gave us all they had, -and I saw the women, for I couldn’t sleep, covering us up with any spare -clothes they’d got, and watching us all night long. They sent us on to -other Union houses, and so we got north. I was too ill to stay north at -my old work, so I sold my farm, and came south to Knoxville, where I had -come to know many kind, good people, in the war. They were very kind, -and I got work at the improvements on Mr. Dickenson’s farm (a model farm -we had gone over), and in other gentlemen’s gardens. But I didn’t get my -health again, so eight years ago I came to this place on the mountains, -which I knew was healthy, and would suit me. Well, they all said I -should be starved out in two years and have to quit, but before three -years were out I was selling them corn and better bacon than they’d ever -had before. Some of ’em begin to think I’m right now, and there’s a -deal of improvement going on, and if they’d only, as I tell ’em, just -put in all their time on their farms, and not go loafing round gunning, -and contented with corn-dodgers and a bit of pork, and give up whisky, -they might all do as well as I’ve done. I should like to go back once -more and see the old country; but I mean to end my days here. There’s no -such country that I ever saw. The Lord has done all for us here. And -it seems like dreams, that I should live to see a Rugby up here on the -mountains. I mean to take a lot in the town, or close by, and call it -Newnham Paddocks. So I shall lay my bones, you see, in the same place, -as it were, that I was reared in.” - -I do not pretend that these were his exact words,--the whole had to be -condensed to come within your space,--but they are not far off. It was -now past nine, the time for retiring, when Amos told us that he always -ended his day with family prayers. A psalm was read, and then we knelt -down, and he prayed for some minutes. Extemporary prayers always excite -my critical faculty, but there was no thought or expression in this I -could have wished to alter. Then we turned in, I, after a pipe in the -verandah, in one clean white bed, and two of the boys in the big one -in the opposite corner. There I soon dozed off, watching the big, -smouldering, white pine-log away in the depth of the chimney-nook, and -the last flickerings of the knobs of pitch pine in front of it, between -the iron dogs, and wondering in my mind over the brave story we had just -been listening to, so simply told (of which I fear I have succeeded in -giving a very poor reflection), and whether there are not some--there -cannot, I fear, be many--such lives lying about in out-of-the-way -corners, on mountain, or plain, or city. My last conscious speculation -was whether the Union would have been saved if all Union soldiers had -been Amos Hills. - -I waked early, just before dawn, and was watching alternately the embers -of the big log, still aglow in the deep chimney, and the white light -beginning to break through the honeysuckles and vines which hung over -the verandah, and shaded the wide, open window, when the clock struck -five. The door opened softly, and in stepped Amos Hill in his stockings. -He came to the foot of our beds, picked up our dirty boots, and stole -out again, as noiselessly as he had entered. The next minute I heard the -blacking brushes going vigorously, and knew that I should appear at -breakfast with a shine on in which I should have reason to glory, if I -were preparing to walk in Bond Street, instead of through the scrub on -the Cumberland Mountains. I turned over for another, hour’s sleep -(breakfast being at 6.30 sharp), but not without first considering for -some minutes which of us two--if things were fixed up straight in this -blundering old world--ought to be blacking the other’s boots. The -conclusion I came to was that it ought _not_ to be Amos Hill. - - - - -The Negro “Natives”, Rugby, Tennessee, 30th October 1880. - -There is one inconvenience in this desultory mode of -correspondence,--that one is apt to forget what one has told already, -and to repeat oneself. I have written something of the white native of -these mountains; have I said anything of his dark brother? The subject -is becoming a more and more interesting and important one every day, -through all these regions. In these mountains, the negro, perhaps, can -scarcely be called a native. Very few black families, I am told, were to -be found here a year or two since. My own eyes assure me that they are -multiplying rapidly. I see more and more black men amongst the gangs -on roads and bridges, and come across queer little encampments in the -woods, with a pile of logs smouldering in the midst, round which stand -the mirth-provoking figures of small black urchins, who stare and grin -at the intruder on horseback, till he rides on under the gold and russet -and green autumnal coping of hickories, chestnuts, and pines. - -I am coming to the conclusion that wherever work is to be had, in -Tennessee, at any rate, there will the negro be found. He seems to -gather to a contractor like the buzzards, which one sees over the -tree-tops, to carrion. And unless the white natives take to “putting in -all their time,” whatever work is going will not long remain with them. -The negro will loaf and shirk as often as not when he gets the chance, -but he has not the same craving for knocking off altogether as soon -as he has a couple of dollars in his pocket; has no strong hunting -instinct, and has not acquired the art of letting his pick drop -listlessly into the ground with its own weight, and stopping to admire -the scenery after every half-dozen strokes. The negro is much more -obedient, moreover, and manageable,--obedient to a fault, if one can -believe the many stories one hears of his readiness to commit small -misdemeanours and crimes, and not always small ones, at the bidding of -his employers. There is one thing, however, which an equally unanimous -testimony agrees in declaring that he will not do, and that is, sell his -vote, or be dragooned into giving it for any one but his own choice; he -may, indeed, be scared from voting, but cannot be “squared,” a singular -testimony, surely, of his prospective value as a citizen. Equally -strong is the evidence of his resolute determination to get his children -educated. In some Southern States the children are, I believe, kept -apart, but in the only school I have had the chance of seeing, black and -white children were together. They were not in class, but in the front -of the barn-like building, used both for church and school, having just -come out for the dinner hour. There was a large, sandy, trampled place -under the trees, by no means a bad play-ground, on which a few of the -most energetic, the blacks in the majority, were playing at some game as -we came up, the mysteries of which I should have liked to study. But the -longer we stayed, the less chance there seemed of their going on, and -the game remains a mystery to me still. Where these children, some fifty -in number, came from, is a problem; but there they were, from somewhere. -And everywhere, I hear, the blacks are forcing the running, with respect -to education, and great numbers of them are showing a thrift and energy -which are likely to make them formidable competitors in the struggle for -existence in all states south of Kentucky, at any rate. - -In one department (a very small one, no doubt), they will have crowded -out the native whites in a very short time, if I may judge by our -experience in this house. We number two ladies and six men, and our -whole service is done by one boy. Our first experiment was with a young -native, who “reared up” on the first morning at the idea of having to -black boots. This prejudice, I think I told you, was removed for the -moment, and he stayed for a few days. Where it was he “weakened on us” - I could not learn for certain, but incline to the belief that it was -either having to carry the racquets and balls to the lawn-tennis ground, -or to get a fire to burn in order to boil the water for a four-o’clock -tea. Both these services were ordered by the ladies, and I thought I saw -signs (though I am far from certain) that his manly soul rose against -feminine command. Be that as it may, off he went without warning, and -soon after Amos Hill arrived, with almost pathetic apologies and a negro -boy, short of stature, huge of mouth, fabulous in the apparent age of -his garments, named Jeff. He had no other name, he told us, and did not -know whether it signified Jefferson or Geoffrey, or where or how he got -it, or anything about himself, except that he had got our place at $5 a -month,--at which he showed his ivory, “some!” - -From this time all was changed. Jeff, it is true, after the first two -days, gave proofs that he was not converted, like the white housemaid -who had learned to sweep under the mats. His sweeping and tidying were -decidedly those of the sinner, and he entirely abandoned the only hard -work we set him, as soon as it was out of sight from the Asylum. It was -a path leading to a shallow well, which the boys had dug at the bottom -of the garden. The last twenty yards or so are on a steeper incline than -the part next the house, so Jeff studiously completed the few feet that -were left to the brow, and never put pick or shovel on the remainder, -which lay behind the friendly brow of the slope. But in all other -directions, where the work was mainly odd jobs, a respectable kind of -loafing, Jeff was always to the fore, acquitting himself to the best, -I think, of his ability. We did not get full command of him till the -arrival of a young Texan cattle-driver, who taught us the peculiar cry -for the negro, by appending a high “Ho” to his name, or rather running -them together, so that the whole sounded, “Hojeff!” as nearly -as possible one syllable. Even the ladies picked up the cry, and -thenceforward Jeff’s substitute for the “Anon, anon, sir!” of the -Elizabethan waiter was instantaneous. He built a camp-oven, like those -of the Volunteers at Wimbledon, and neater of construction, from which -he supplied a reasonably constant provision of hot water between six -and six, of course cutting his own logs for the fire. His highest -achievement was ironing the ladies’ cotton dresses, which they declared -he did not very badly. Most of us entrusted him with the washing of -flannel shirts and socks, which at any rate were faithfully immersed in -suds, and hung up to dry under our eyes. The laundry was an army tent, -pitched at the back of the Asylum, where Jeff spent nearly all his time -when not under orders, and generally eating an apple, of which there was -always a sack, a present from some ranche-owner, or brought over from -the garden, lying about, and open to mankind at large. I never could -find out whether he could read. One evening he came up proudly to ask -whether his mail had come, and sure enough when the mail arrived there -was a post-card, which he claimed. We thought he would ask one of us to -read it for him, but were disappointed. He had a habit of crooning over -and over again all day some scrap of a song. One of these excited my -curiosity exceedingly, but I never succeeded in getting more than two -lines out of him-- - - Oh my! oh my! I’ve got a hundred dollars in a mine! - -One had a crave to hear what came of those 100 dollars. It seems it is -so almost universally. The nearest approach to a complete negro ditty -which I have been able to strike is one which the Texan gives, with -a wonderful roll of the word “chariot,” which cannot be written. It -runs:-- - - The Debbie he chase me round a stump, - - Gwine for to carry me home; - - He catch me most at ebery jump, - - Gwine for to carry me home. - - Swing low, sweet chay-o-t, - - Gwine for to carry me home. - - The Debbie he make one grab at me, - - Gwine, etc., - - He missed me, and my soul goed free, - - Gwine, etc. - - Swing low, etc. - - Oh! won’t we have a gay old time, - - Gwine, etc. - - A eatin’ up o’ honey, and a drinkin’ up o’ wine. - - Gwine, etc. - - Swing low, etc. - -This, sir, I think you will agree with me, though precious, is obviously -a fragment only. It took our Texan many months to pick it up, even in -this mutilated condition. But after all, Jeffs character and capacity -come out most in the direction of boots. It. is from his attitude with -regard to them that I incline to think that the Black race have a great -future in these States. You may have gathered from previous letters that -there is a clear, though not a well marked, division in this settlement -as to blacking. Amos Hill builds on it decidedly, and would have every -farmer appear in blacked boots, at any rate on Sunday. The opposition -is led by a young farmer of great energy and famous temper, who, having -been “strapped,” or left without a penny, 300 miles from the Pacific -coast, amongst the Mexican mines, and having made his hands keep his -head in the wildest of earthly settlements, has a strong contempt for -all amenities of clothing, which is shared by the geologist and others. -How the point will be settled at last, I cannot guess. It stands over -while the ladies are still here, and I have actually seen the “strapped” - one giving his wondrous boots a sly lick or two of blacking on Sunday -morning. But, anyhow, the blacks will be cordially on the side of polish -and the aristocracy. This one might, perhaps, have anticipated; but what -I was not prepared for, was Jeffs apparent passion for boots. I own -a fine, strong pair of shooting-boots, which he worshipped for five -minutes at least every morning. As my last day in the Asylum drew on, -I could see he was troubled in his mind. At last, out it came. Watching -his chance, when no one was near, he sidled up, and pointing to them -on the square chest in the verandah which served for blacking-board, he -said, “I’d like to buy dem boots.” After my first astonishment was over, -I explained to him that I couldn’t afford to sell them for less than -about six weeks of his wages, and that, moreover, I wanted them for -myself, as I could get none such here. He was much disappointed, and -muttered frequently, “I’d like to buy dem boots!”--but my heart did not -soften. - -Perhaps I ought rather to be giving your readers more serious -experiences, but somehow the negro is apt to run one out into chaff. -However, I will conclude with one fact, which seems to me a very -striking confirmation of my view. All Americans are reading the _Fool’s -Errand_, a powerful novel, founded on the state of things after the -war in the Kuklux times. It is written by a Southern judge, a fair and -clever man, clearly, but one who has no more faith in the negro’s power -to raise himself to anything above hewing wood and drawing water for -the “Caucasian” than C. J. Taney himself. In all that book there is no -single instance of the drawing of a mean, corrupt, or depraved negro; -but the negroes are represented as full of patience, trustfulness, -shrewdness, and power of many kinds. - - - - -The Opening Day, Rugby, Tennessee. - -Our opening day drew near, not without rousing the most serious -misgivings in the minds of most of us whether we could possibly be -ready to receive our guests. Invitations had been issued to our -neighbours--friends, as we had learnt to esteem them--in Cincinnati, -Knoxville, Chatanooga, whose hospitalities we had enjoyed, and who had -expressed a cordial sympathy with our enterprise, and a desire to visit -us. We looked also for some of our own old members from distant New -England, in all probability seventy or eighty guests, to lodge and -board, and convey from and back to the railway, seven miles over our new -road,--no small undertaking, under our circumstances. But the hotel was -still in the hands of the contractor, from whom, as yet, only the upper -floors had been rescued. The staircase wanted banisters, and the -hall and living-rooms were still only half-wainscotted, and full of -carpenters’ benches and plasterers’ trays; while the furniture and -crockery lumbered up the big barn, or stood about in cases on the broad -verandah. As for our road, it was splendid, so far as it went, but some -two miles were still merely a forest track, from which all trees and -stumps had been removed, but that was all; and the bridge over the Clear -Fork stream, by which the town site is entered, had only the first cross -timbers laid from pier to pier, while the approaches seemed to lie in -hopeless, weltering confusion, difficult on horseback, impossible on -wheels. However, the manager declared that we should drive over the -bridge on Saturday afternoon, and that the contractor should be out of -the hotel by Monday midday. With this we were obliged to be content, -though it was running things fine, as we looked for our guests on that -Monday afternoon, and the opening was fixed for the next morning. And -so it came to pass, as the manager said. Bridge and road were declared -passable by the named time, though nervous persons might well have -thought twice before attempting the former in the heavy omnibuses hired -for the occasion; and we were able to get possession and move furniture -and crockery into the hotel, though the carpenters still held the -unfinished staircase. - -So far so good; but still everything, we felt, depended on the weather. -If the glorious days we had been having held, all would be well. The -promise was fair up to Sunday evening, but at sunset there was a change. -Amos Hill shook his head, and the geologist’s aneroid barometer gave -ominous signs. They proved only too correct. Early in the night the rain -set in, and by daybreak, when we were already astir, a steady, soft, -searching rain was coming down perpendicularly, which lasted, with -scarcely a break, clear through the day, and till midnight. With -feelings of blank despair we thought of the new road, softened into a -Slough of Despond, and the hastily thrown-up approaches to the bridge -giving way under the laden omnibuses, and waited our fate. It was, as -usual, better than we looked for. The morning train from Chatanooga -would bring our southern guests in time for early dinner, if no -break-down happened; and sure enough, within half an hour of the -expected time up came the omnibuses, escorted to the hotel door by the -manager and his son on horseback; and the Bishop of Tennessee, with his -chaplain, the Mayor of Chatanooga, and a number of the leading citizens -of that city and of Knoxville, descended in the rain. In five minutes -we were at our ease and happy. If they had all been Englishmen on a -pleasure-trip, they could not have taken the down-pour more cheerily as -a matter of course, and pleasant, rather than otherwise, after the -long drought. They dined, chatted, and smoked in the verandah, and then -trotted off in _gum_ coats to look round at the walks, gardens, streets, -and cots, escorted by “the boys.” The manager reported, with pride, -that they had come up in an hour and a quarter, and without any kind of -_contretemps_, though, no doubt, the new road _was_ deep, in places. - -All anxiety was over for the moment, as the Northern train, bringing our -Cincinnati and New England friends, was not due till after dark. We sat -down to tea in detachments from six to eight, when, if all went well, -the northerners would be about due. The tables were cleared, and relaid -once more for them, and every preparation made to give them a warm -welcome. Nine struck, and still no sign of them; then ten, by which -time, in this early country, all but some four or five anxious souls -had retired. We sat round the stove in the hall, and listened to the -war-stories of the Mayor of Chatanooga, and our host of the Tabard, who -had served on opposite sides in the terrible campaigns in the south of -the State, which had ended at Missionary Ridge, and filled the national -cemetery of Chatanooga with 14,000 graves of Union soldiers. But neither -the interest of the stories themselves, nor the pleasure of seeing how -completely all bitterness had passed out of the narrators’ minds, could -keep our thoughts from dwelling on the pitch-dark road, sodden by this -time with the rain, and the _mauvais pas_ of the bridge. Eleven struck, -and now it became too serious for anything but anxious peerings into the -black night, and considerations as to what could be done. We had ordered -lanterns, and were on the point of starting for the bridge, when faint -sounds, as of men singing in chorus, came through the darkness. They -grew in volume, and now we could hear the omnibuses, from which came a -roll of, “John Brown’s body lies mouldering in the grave,” given with a -swing and precision which told of old campaigners. That stirring melody -could hardly have been more welcome to the first line waiting for -supports, on some hard-fought battle-ground, than it was to us. The -omnibuses drew up, a dense cloud rising from the drenched horses and -mules, and the singers got out, still keeping up their chorus, which -only ceased on the verandah, and must have roused every sleeper in the -settlement. The Old Bay State, Ohio, and Kentucky had sent us a set of -as stalwart good fellows as ever sang a chorus or ate a beef-steak at -midnight; and while they were engaged in the latter operation, they told -how from the break-down of a freight-train, theirs had been three hours -late, how the darkness had kept them to a foot’s-pace, how the last -omnibus had given out in the heavy places, and had to be constantly -helped on by a pair of mules detached from one of the others. “All’s -well that ends well,” and it was with a joyful sense of relief that we -piloted such of our guests as the hotel could not hold across to their -cots in the barracks at one in the morning. By nine, the glorious -Southern sun had fairly vanquished rain and mist, and the whole plateau -was ablaze with the autumn tints, and every leaf gleaming from its -recent shower-bath. Rugby outdid herself and “leapt to music and to -light” in a way which astonished even her oldest and most enthusiastic -citizens, some half dozen of whom had had something like twelve months’ -experience of her moods and tempers. Breakfast began at six, and ended -at nine, and for three hours batches of well-fed visitors were turned -out to saunter round the walks, the English gardens, and lawn-tennis -grounds, until the hour of eleven, fixed by the Bishop for the opening -service. The church being as yet only some six feet above ground, this -ceremony was to be held in the verandah of the hotel. Meantime, Bishop -and chaplain were busy among “the boys,” organising a choir to sing the -hymns and lead the responses. The whole population were gathering -round the hotel, some four or five buggies, and perhaps twenty horses, -haltered to the nearest trees, showed the interest excited in the -neighbourhood. In addition to the seats in the verandah, chairs and -benches were placed on the ground below for the surplus congregation, -behind whom a fringe of white and black natives regarded the proceedings -with grave attention. Punctual to time, the Bishop and his chaplain, in -robes, took their places at the corner of the verandah, and gave out the -first verses of the “Old Hundredth.” There was a moment’s pause, while -the newly-organised choir exchanged glances as to who should lead off, -and the pause was fatal to them for the moment. For on the Bishop’s -left stood the stalwart New Englander who had led the pilgrims of -the previous evening in the “John Brown” chorus. He, unaware of the -episcopal arrangements, and of the consequent vested rights of “the -boys,” broke out with “All people that on earth do dwell,” in a voice -which carried the whole assembly with him, and at once reduced “the -boys” to humble followers. They had their revenge, however, when it came -to the second hymn at the end of the service. It was “Jerusalem, the -golden,” which is apparently sung to a different tune in Boston to -that in use in England, so though our musical guest struggled manfully -through the first line, and had almost discomfited “the boys” by sheer -force of lungs, numbers prevailed, and he was brought into line. The -service was a short one, consisting of two psalms, “Lord, who shall -dwell in thy tabernacle?” and “Except the Lord build the house,” the -chapter of Solomon’s prayer at the dedication of the Temple, half a -dozen of the Church collects, and a prayer by the Bishop that the town -and settlement might be built up in righteousness and the fear and love -of God, and ‘prove a blessing to the State. Then, after the blessing, -the gathering resolved itself into a public meeting after American -fashion. The Board spoke through their representatives, and Bishop, -judge, general manager, and visitors exchanged friendly oratorical -buffets, and wishes and prophecies for the prosperity of the New -Jerusalem in the Southern highlands. A more genuine or healthier act of -worship it has not been our good-fortune to attend in these late years. - -Dinner began immediately afterwards, and then the company scattered -again, some to select town lots, some to the best views, the Bishop to -organise a vestry, and induce two of “the boys” to become lay readers, -pending the arrival of a parson (in which he was eminently successful); -the chaplain to the Clear Fork with one of “the boys’” fishing-rods, -after black bass; and a motley crowd to the lawn-tennis ground, to see -some set played which would have done no discredit to Wimbledon, and -excited much wonder and some enthusiasm amongst natives and visitors. -A cheerful evening followed, in which the new piano in the hotel -sitting-room did good service, and many war and other stories were told -round the big hall stove. Early the next morning the omnibuses began -carrying off the visitors, and by night Rugby had settled down again to -its ordinary life, not, however, without a sense of strength gained -for the work of building up a community which shall know how to comport -itself in good and bad times, and shall help, instead of hindering, its -sons and daughters in leading a brave, simple, and Christian life. - - - - -Life in an American Liner - -It is some years since I addressed you last over this signature--indeed -I should doubt if five per cent of your present readers will remember -the “harvests” of a quiet (ought I to say “lazy” rather than “quiet”?) -eye, which I was wont in those days, by your connivance, to submit to -them in vacation times. Somehow to-day the old instinct has come back on -me, possibly because I happen to be on an errand which should be of no -small interest to us English just now; possibly because the last days of -an Atlantic crossing seem to be so naturally provocative of the instinct -for gossiping, that one is not satisfied with the abundant opportunities -one gets on board the vessel in which one is a luxurious prisoner for -ten days. - -We have been going day and night since we left Queenstown harbour at -an average rate of 18 (land) miles an hour. We are more than 1300 -passengers (roughly 200 saloon, and the rest steerage), whose baggage, -when added to the large cargo of dry goods we are carrying, sinks our -beautiful craft till she draws 24 feet of water. She herself is more -than 150 yards long, and weighs as she passes Sandy Hook,--well, I am -fairly unable to calculate what she weighs, but as much, at any rate, -as half a dozen luggage-trains on shore. We have had our last, or the -captain’s dinner, at which fish, to all appearance as fresh as if the -sailors had just caught them over the side, and lettuces, as crisp as if -the steward had a nursery garden down below, have been served as part -of a dinner which would have done no discredit to a first-class hotel; -beginning with two sorts of soup, and ending with two sorts of ices. -Similar dinners, with other meals to match--four solid ones in the -twenty-four hours, besides odds and ends--have been served day by day, -without a hitch, in a cabin kept as sweet as Atlantic air, constantly -pumped into it by the engine, can make it. - -By the way, sir, I may remark here, in connection with our feeding, -that if we might be taken as average specimens of our race, there is no -ground whatever for anxiety as to the Anglo-Saxon digestion, of -which some disagreeable philosophers have spoken with disrespect and -foreboding in recent years. There were, perhaps, ten persons whose -native tongue was not English, and yet we carried our four solid meals a -day with resolution bordering on the heroic. The racks were never on the -tables, and we had only for a few hours a swell, which thinned our ranks -for two meals; and yet when I look round, and make such inquiry as -I can, I can see or hear of nothing more than a very slight trace of -dyspepsia here and there. The principal change I remarked in the manners -and customs on the voyage was the marked increase of play and betting on -board. When I first crossed, ten years ago, there was nothing more than -an occasional game at whist in the saloon or smoking-room. This voyage -it was not easy to get out of the way of hard play except on deck. The -best corner of the smoking-room was occupied from breakfast till “Out -lights” by a steady poker party, and other smaller and more casual -groups played fitfully at the other tables. There were always whist and -other games going on in the saloon, but of a soberer and (in a pecuniary -sense) more innocent character. There were “pools” of a sovereign or -a half sovereign on every event of the day, “the run” being the most -exciting issue. The drawer of the winning number seldom pocketed less -than £40, when it was posted on the captain’s chart at noon. I heard -that play is rather favoured now than otherwise on all the lines, as -a percentage is almost always paid to the funds of the Sailors’ Orphan -Asylum, for which excellent charity a collection is also legitimately -made during every passage. We were good supporters, and collected nearly -£70 at our entertainment, which I attribute partly to the fact that we -had on board a leading American actor, who most good-naturedly “turned -himself loose” for us, and that the plates at the two doors were held -by the daughters of an English earl, and an (late, alas!) American -ambassador of great eminence. The countries could not have been more -characteristically or charmingly represented, and the charity owes them -its best thanks. - -There was the usual mine of information and entertainment, to be struck -with ease by the merest novice in conversational shaft-sinking. Why is -it that folk are so much more ready to talk on an Atlantic steamer than -elsewhere? I myself “struck ile,” in several directions, one of a sad -kind--Scotch farmers of the highest type going out to select new homes, -where there will be no factors. The most remarkable of these appeared to -have made up his mind finally when he had been told that he would not be -allowed a penny at the end of his lease for the addition of three rooms -he was obliged to make to his house, as his family were growing up. Have -landlords and factors gone mad, in face of the serious times which are -on them? - -There were quite an abundance of parsons, of many denominations, and all -of mark. Prayers on Sunday were read by a New England Episcopalian, -and the sermon preached by a Scotch Free Kirk minister. All were men of -broad views, in some cases verging on Latitudinarianism to a point which -rejoiced my heretic soul, e.g. a Protestant minister in a great American -western city, whose church had recently been rebuilt. Looking round -to find where his flock could be best housed on Sundays, pending -reconstruction, he found the neighbouring synagogue by far the most -convenient, and proposed to go there. His people cordially agreed, and -despite the furious raging of the (so-called) religious press, into the -synagogue they went for their Sunday services, stayed there six months, -and when they left, were only charged for the gas by the Rabbi. An -intimacy sprung up. It appeared that the Rabbi looked upon our Lord -as the first of the inspired men of his nation, greater than Moses or -Samuel, and in the end the two congregations met at a service conducted -partly by the Rabbi and partly by my informant!--a noteworthy sign of -the times, but one at which I fear many even of your readers will shake -their heads. - -There were some Confederate officers, ready to talk without bitterness -of the war, and I was very glad to improve the occasion, having never -had the chance of a look from that side the curtain. Anything more grim -and humorous than the picture of Southern society during those awful -four years I never hope to meet with. The entire want of regular -medicines, especially bark, was their greatest trouble in his eyes. In -his brigade their remedy for “the shakes” came to be a plaster of raw -turpentine, just drawn from the pine woods, laid on down the back. -Some one suggested that pills were very portable, and easily imported. -“Pills!” he said scornfully; “pills, sir, were as scarce in our brigade -as the grace of God in a grog shop at midnight.” Nothing so much -brought out to me the horrors of civil war as his account of the perfect -knowledge each side had of the plans and doings on the other. A Northern -officer, he had since come to know, was leaning against a post within -three yards of Jeff. Davis when he made his famous speech announcing the -supersession of Joe Johnson as the general fronting Sherman. Sherman had -heard it in a few hours, and was acting on the news before nightfall. -The most terrible example was that of the mining of the Richmond lines. -The defenders knew almost to a foot where the mines were, and when they -were to be fired. Breckenbridge’s division, in which he fought, were -drawn up in line to repel the attack when the earthworks went up in the -air, and the assailants rushed into the great gap which had been made, -and which was nearly filled, before they fell back, with the bodies of -Northern soldiers. For the last two years, in almost every battle he had -all he could do to hold his own against the front attack, knowing and -feeling all the while that the enemy was overlapping and massing on both -flanks, and that he would have to retire his regiment before they could -close. And yet they held together to the last! - - I pity mothers, too, down South, - - Altho’ they sat amongst the scorners. - -It is a curious experience, and one well worth trying, this ten days’ -voyage. When you go on board at Liverpool, and look round at the first -dinner, there are probably not half a dozen faces you ever saw before. -By the time you walk out of the ship, bag in hand, on to the New York -landing-place, there are scarcely half a dozen with» whom you have not -a pleasant speaking acquaintance; while with a not inconsiderable number -you feel (unless you have had singularly bad luck) as if you must have -known them intimately for years, without having been aware of it. As -you touch the land, the express men and hotel touts rush on you, and the -spell is broken. The little society resolves itself at their touch into -separate atoms, which are whirled away, without time to wish one another -God-speed, into the turbulent ocean of New York life, never again to be -gathered together as a society in this world, for worship, for food, or -fun. “The present life of man, 0 king!” said a Saxon thane in Edwin’s -Witenagemot, when they were consulting whether Augustine and his priests -should be allowed to settle at Canterbury, “reminds me of one of your -winter feasts where you sit with your thanes and counsellors. The hearth -blazes in our midst, and a grateful heat is spread around, while storms -of rain and snow are raging without. A little sparrow enters at one door -and flies delighted around us, till it departs through the other. Such -is the life of man, and we are as ignorant of the state which went -before us as of that which will follow it. Things being so,” went on -the thane, “I feel that if this new faith can give us more certainty, it -deserves to be received,”--which last sentiment has, I allow, no bearing -on the present subject, nor, perhaps you will say, has the rest of it. -But somehow the old story came into my head so vividly as I was leaving -the steamer, that I feel like tossing it on to your readers, to see -what they can make of it; though I own, on looking at it again, I am not -myself clear as to the interpretation, or whether I am the sparrow or -the thane. - -New York is more overwhelming than ever,--surely the most tremendous -human mill on this planet; but I must not begin upon it at the end of a -letter. - - - - -Life in Texas, Ranche on the Rio Grande, 16th September 1884. - -It must be many years now (how they do shut up in these latter days -like a telescope) since I confided to you in these columns the joy--not -unmixed with reverence--of my first interview with that worthy small -person (I am sure he must be a person) the tumble-bug of the U.S.A. I -looked upon him in those days as on the whole the most industrious and -athletic little creature it had ever been my privilege to encounter. I -am obliged now to take most of that back, for to-day I have discovered -that he isn’t a circumstance to his Mexican cousin on this side the Rio -Grande. At any rate, the specimens I have met with here are not only -bigger, but work half as hard again, and about twice as quick. I was -sitting just now in the verandah in front of this ranche cabin, waiting -for the horses to be saddled-up at the corral just below, and looking -lazily, now eastward over the river and the wide Texan plains beyond, -fading away in the haze till the horizon looked like the Atlantic in a -calm, now westward to the jagged outline of the Sierra Nevada, gleaming -in the sunshine sixty miles away, when I became aware of something -moving at my feet. Looking down I found that it was a tumble-bug rolling -a ball of dirt he had put together, till it was at least four times -as big as himself, towards the rough stony descent just beyond the -verandah, at a pace which fairly staggered me. In a few seconds he was -across the floor, and in amongst the stones which lay thickly over -the slope beyond. Here his troubles began. First he pushed his ball -backwards over a big stone, on the further side of which it fell, and he -with it, headlong--no, not headlong, stern foremost--some five inches, -rolling over one another twice at the bottom. But he never quitted hold, -and began pushing away merrily again without a moment’s pause. Then he -ran the ball into a _cul-de-sac_ between two stones, some inches high. -After two or three dead heaves, which lifted the ball at least his own -length up the side of the stones--and you must remember, to judge of the -feat, that he was standing on his head to do it--he quitted hold, -turned round, and looked at the situation. I am almost certain I saw him -scratch his ear, or at least the side of his head, with his fore-claw. -In a second or two he fixed on again with his hind-claws, pushed the -ball out of the _cul-de-sac_, and continued his journey. If that bug -didn’t put two and two together, by what process did he get out of that -_cul-de-sac?_ “Cogito, ergo sum.” Was I wrong in calling him a person? -Well, I won’t trouble you further with particulars of his journey, but -he ran his big ball into his hole under a mesquite-bush, 19 1/2 yards -from the spot on the verandah where I first noticed him, in eleven -minutes and a few seconds by my watch. I made a calculation before -mounting that, comparing my bug with an average Mexican, five feet eight -inches high, and weighing ten stone, the ball of dirt would be at least -equal to a bale of cotton, eight feet in diameter, and weighing half -a ton, which the man would have to push or carry 2 1/2 miles in eleven -minutes, to equal the feat of his tiny fellow-citizen. In the depressed -condition of Mexico, might not this enormous bug-power be utilised -somehow for the benefit of the Republic? - -I had barely finished my ciphering when I was called to horse, and in a -few minutes was riding across a vast plain, nearly bare of grass in this -drought, but dotted with mesquite-bushes, prickly pear, and other scrub, -so that the general effect was still green. The riding was rough, as -much loose stone lay about, and badgers’, “Jack Rabbits’” and other -creatures’ holes abounded; but the small Mexican horse I rode was -perfectly sure-footed, and I ambled along, swelling with pride at my -quaint saddle, with pummel some eight inches high, and depending lasso, -showing that for the time I was free of the honourable fraternity of -“gentlemen cow-punchers.” Besides myself, our party consisted of the -two ranche-men--an Englishman and an American, aged about thirty, old -comrades on long drives 1000 miles away to the North, but now -anchored on this glorious ranche on the Bio Grande--and a cowboy. The -Englishman’s yellow hair was cropped close to his head, and his fair -skin was burnt as red, I suppose, as skin will burn; the Marylander’s -black hair was as closely cropped, and his skin burnt an equally deep -brown. The cowboy, an English lad of about twenty, reconciled the two -types, having managed to get his skin tanned a deep red, relieved by -large dark brown freckles, from the midst of which his great blue eyes -shone out in comical contrast. I fear-- - - The very mother that him bare, - - She had not known her child. - -They were all attired alike, in broad felt sombreros, blue shirts, and -trousers thrust into boots reaching to the knees. Each had his lasso at -pummel, and between them they carried a rifle, frying-pan, coffee-pot, -big loaf, and forequarter of a porker--for we were out for a long day. A -more picturesque or efficient-looking group it would be hard to find. -I must resist the temptation of telling all we did or saw, and come at -once to our ride home shortly before sunset. The ranche-men and I were -abreast, and the cowboy a few yards behind, when we came across a bunch -of cattle, conspicuous amongst which strode along a stalwart yearling -bull calf, whose shining brindle hide and jaunty air showed that he, at -least, was not suffering from the scanty food which the drought has left -for the herds on these wide plains. He was already as big as his poor -raw-boned mother, who went along painfully picking at every shrub and -tuft in her path, to provide his evening meal at her own expense. Now -these dude calves (who insist on living on their parents, and will do -nothing for their own livelihood) can only be cured by the insertion of -a horse-ring in the upper lip, so that they cannot turn it up to take -hold of the maternal udder, and it is often in bad times a matter of -life or death to the cows to get them ringed. After a conference of -a few seconds, the Marylander shifted the rifle to the saddle of the -Englishman (already ornamented with the frying-pan and the coffee-pot), -and calling to the cowboy, dashed off for the bunch of cattle. Next -moment the cowboy shot past us at full speed, gathering up his lasso as -he went; the bull-calf was “cut out” of the bunch as if by magic, and -went straight away through mesquite-brush and prickly pears, at a pace -which kept his pursuers at their utmost stretch not to lose ground. It -was all they could do to hold it, never for a full mile getting within -lasso-reach of Boliborus, the ranche-man following like fate, upright -from shoulder to toe (they ride with very long stirrups), bridle hand -low, and right hand swinging the lasso slowly round his head, awaiting -his chance for a throw; the cowboy close on his flank; ranche-man number -two clattering along, pot, kettle, and rifle “soaring and singing” round -his knees, but availing himself of every turn in the chase, so as to -keep within thirty or forty yards. I, a bad fourth, but near enough to -see the whole and share the excitement (if, indeed, I hadn’t it all -to myself, the sport being to the rest a part of the daily round). The -crisis came just at the foot of a mound, up which Boliborus had gained -some yards, but in the descent had slackened his pace and the pursuers -were on him. The lasso flew from the raised hand, and was round his -neck, a dexterous twist brought the rope across his forelegs, and next -moment he was over on his side half, throttled. I was up in some five -seconds, during which his lassoer had him by the horns, ranche-man -number two was prone with all his weight upon his shoulders, and the -cowboy on his hind quarters, catching at his tail with his left hand. -That bull calf’s struggle to rise was as superb as Bertram Risingham’s -in _Rokeby_, and as futile; for the cowboy had caught his tail and -passed it between his hind legs, and by pulling hard kept one leg -brandishing aimlessly in the air, while the weight of the ranche-men -subdued his forequarters. The ring was passed through his upper lip, -and the lasso was off his neck in a few seconds more, and the ranche-men -turned to mount, saying to the cowboy, “Just hold on a minute.” The -cowboy passed the tail back between the hind legs, grasped the end -firmly, and stood expectant. Boliborus lay quiet for a second or two, -and then bounded to his feet, glaring round in rage and pain to choose -which, of his foes to go for, when he became aware of something wrong -behind, and looking round, realised the state of the case. Down went his -head, and round he went with a rush for his own tail end, but the tail -and boy were equal to the occasion, and the latter still holding on -tight by the former, sent back a defiant kick at the end of each rush, -which, however, never got within two feet of the bull’s nose, and could -be only looked upon as a proper defiance. Then Boliborus tried stealing -round to take his tail by surprise, but all to as little purpose, when -the ranche-men, who were now both mounted, to end the farce, rode round -in front of the beast, caught his eye, and cried, “Let go.” Whisking his -freed tail in the air he made a rush, but only a half-hearted one, at -the nearest, who just wheeled his horse, and as he passed administered -a contemptuous thwack over his loins with a lasso. Boliborus now stood -looking down his nose at the appendant ring, revolving his next move, -with so comic an expression that I burst into a roar of laughter, in -which the rest joined out of courtesy. This was too much for him, as -ridicule proves for so many two-legged calves, so he tossed his head in -the air, gave a flirt with his heels, and trotted off after his mother, -a sadder, and let us hope, wiser bull-calf; in any case, a ringed one, -and bound in future to get his own living. - -On my ride home my mind was much occupied by that cowboy, who rode -along by me--telling how he had been reading _Gulliver’s Travels_ again -(amongst other things), found it wasn’t a mere boy’s book, and wanted -to get a Life of Swift--in his battered old outfit, for which no Jew in -Rag-Fair would give him five shillings. The last time I had seen him, -two years ago, he had just left Hallebury, a bit of a dandy, with very -tight clothes, and so stiff a white collar on, that on his arrival he -had been nicknamed “the Parson.” - -At home he might by this time be just through responsions by the help -of cribs and manuals, having contracted in the process a rooted distaste -for classical literature. Possibly he might have pulled in his college -boat, and won a plated cup at lawn tennis, and all this at the cost -of, say, £250 a year. As it is, besides costing nothing, he can cook a -spare-rib of pork to a turn on a forked stick, hold a bull-calf by the -tail, and is voluntarily wrestling (not without certain glimmerings of -light) with _Sartor Resartus_. Which career for choice? How say you, Mr. -Editor? - - - - -Crossing the Atlantic, 4th September 1885. - -A mug-wump! I should like to ask you, sir--not as Editor, not even as -English gentleman, but simply as vertebrate animal--what you would do -if a stranger were all of a sudden to call your intimate friends -“mug-wumps,” not obscurely hinting that you yourself laboured under -whatever imputation that term may convey? I don’t know what the effect -might have been in my own case, but that the story of O’Connell, as -a boy, shutting up the voluble old Dublin applewoman by calling her a -“parallelopiped,” rushed into my head, and set me off laughing. I -haven’t been able to learn more of the etymology of the word than that -it is said over here to have been first used in a sermon (?) by Mr. Ward -Beecher, and now denotes “bolters” or “scratchers,” as they were called -last autumn, or in other words, the Independents, who broke away from -the party machine of Republicanism and carried Cleveland. More power to -the “mug-wump’s” elbow, say I; and I only wish we may catch the -“mugwumps,” “mug-wumpism,” or whatever the name for the disease may be, -in England before long. One of the groups on the deck of the liner, -amongst whom I first heard the phrase, was a good specimen of the -machine-politician, a democrat of the Tammany Hall type. “You bet” I -stuck to him till I got at his candid account of the campaign of last -autumn, most interesting to me, but I fear not so to the general English -reader, so I will only give you his concluding sentence:--“Well,” with a -long suck at the big cigar he was half-eating, half-smoking, “I tell you -it was about the thinnest ice you ever saw before we were over,--but, _I -got to land!_” From what I heard on board and since, I believe the -President is doing splendidly; witness his peremptory order for the -great ranche-men to clear out of the Reserves which they had leased from -the Indians, and fenced to the extent of some millions of acres; the -righteousness of which presidential action is proved (were proof needed) -by the threatened resistance of General B. Butler, one of the largest -lessees. I can see too clearly looming up a determined opposition to the -President’s Civil Service reform from politicians of both parties, -mainly on the ground that he is “establishing a class” in these U.S.--a -policy which “the Fathers” abhorred and guarded against, and which their -only legitimate heirs, the machine politicians, will fight to the death. -You may gauge the worth of this opposition by contrasting their two -principal arguments--(1) Nine-tenths of the work of the Departments -(Post Office, Customs, etc.) can be learnt just as well in three months -as in ten years; and (2) the other tenth, requiring skilled and -experienced officers, has never been interfered with by either side. -But, if argument two is sound, _cadit quostio_, as there is _ex -hypothesi_ already a permanent class of civil servants, I conclude that -were I an American I would accept “mug-wump” as a title of honour -instead of resenting it, and help to get up a “Mug-wump” club in every -great city. - -We had a splendid crossing, deck crowded all the way, and the company -gloriously cosmopolitan and communicative during the short intervals -between the orthodox four full meals a day. There is surely no place in -the world where that universal instinct, the desire to get behind -the scenes of one’s neighbours’ lives, is so easily and abundantly -gratified. Here is one of my rather odd discoveries. On reaching -the deck, after my bath on the first morning, for the tramp before -breakfast, I was joined by a fine specimen of an old Yorkshireman. It -seems we had met years ago, at some political or social gathering, -and as he looked in superb health and fit to fight for his life, I -congratulated. Yes, he said, it was all owing to his having discovered -how to pass his holiday. He used to go to some northern seaside place, -one as bad as the other, for “whenever the wind blew on shore you might -as well be living in a sewer.” So he saved enough one year to buy a -return-ticket on a Cunard liner, calculating that whatever way the wind -blew he must be getting sea-air all the time. He has done it every year -since, having found that besides sea-air he gets better food and company -than he could ever command at home. My next “find” was a pleasant -soldierly-looking man who called to me from the upper deck to come up -and see a sword-fish chasing a whale. Alas! I arrived too late. The -uncivil brutes had both disappeared by the time I got up; but I was much -consoled by the talk which ensued with my new acquaintance. He was a -Lieutenant of Marines in the Admiral’s flag-ship off Palermo in King -Bomba’s last days, and was sent ashore to arrest and bring on board all -sailors found with the Garibaldini. He seems to have found it necessary -to be present himself at the battle of Metazzo (I think that was -the name) and at the storming of the town afterwards, in which the -Garibaldini suffered severely. The dead were all laid out before the -gate after the town was taken, and he counted no less than seventy -bluejackets amongst them! They used to drop over the sides of the ships -and swim ashore, or smuggle themselves into the bum-boats which came -off to the fleet with provisions. No wonder that we have been popular in -Italy ever since. - -Then, attracted by a crowd on the fore part of the deck, roped off to -divide steerage from saloon passengers, I became one of a motley -group assisting at a sort of moral “free-and-easy,” got up for the 300 -steerage folk by two ecclesiastics, whom I took at first for Romish -priests from their costume. I found I was mistaken, and that they were -the Principal and a Brother of “the Fraternity of the Iron Cross,” an -order of the American Episcopal Church, which, it seems, has taken root -in several of the large cities. The Brethren are vowed to “poverty, -purity, and temperance” (or obedience, I am not sure which); and these -two were crossing in the steerage to comfort and help the poor folk -there--no pleasant task, even in so airy a ship and such fine weather. -One can imagine what power this kind of fellowship must give the Iron -Cross Brethren with their rather sad fellow-passengers, to whom they -could say--one of them, indeed, did say it--“We are just as poor as the -poorest of you, for we own no property of any kind, and never can -own any till our deaths.” This Brother (a strapping young fellow of -twenty-five, who I found had been an athlete at Oxford) waxed -eloquent to them on his experiences in Philadelphia, especially on the -working-men Brethren there. One of these, a big, rough chap, with a -badly broken nose, he had rather looked askance at, first, till he found -that the broken nose had been earned in a rough-and-tumble fight with a -fellow who was ill-using a woman. Now they were the closest friends, and -he looked on the broken nose as more honourable than the Victoria Cross, -and hoped none of the men there would fail to go in for that decoration -if they ever got the same chance. - -In melancholy contrast to the Iron Cross Brethren were two other -diligent workers in quite another kind of business. They haunted the -smoking-room from breakfast till “lights out,” officious to help to -arrange the daily sweepstakes on the ship’s run; gloating over, and -piling caressingly as they rattled down on the table, the dollars and -half-crowns; always on the watch and ready to take a hand at cards, just -to accommodate gents with whom time hung heavily. Bagmen, they were -said to be; but I doubt if they travel for any industry except plucking -pigeons on their own account--unmistakable Jews of a low type, who never -looked any man in the face:-- - - In their eyes that stealthy gleam, - - Was not learned of sky or stream, - - But it has the hard, cold glint - - Of new dollars from the mint. - -Their industry was pursued cautiously, as the fine old captain is known -to hold strong views about gambling, and there was less on this ship -than any other I have crossed on. No baccarat-table going all day, with -excited youngsters punting their silver (gold, too, now and then) over -the shoulders of the players,--only a quiet hand at euchre or poker at -a corner table, in the afternoon and after dinner; but even with -such straitened opportunities, youngsters may be plucked to a fairly -satisfactory figure. From £10 to £20 was often at stake on one deal at -poker, and, I was told, not seldom much higher sums. I saw myself one -mere boy inveigled into blind-hookey for a minute or two while the poker -party was gathering. He won the first cut; and two minutes later I -saw “Iscariot Ingots, Esq., that highly respectable man,” looking -abstractedly across the room, and dreamily gathering up a large handful -of silver which the boy rattled down as he flung off to take his seat at -the poker-table; and so on, and so on. - -It occurs to one to ask, not without some indignation, why this sort of -thing is allowed on these Atlantic steamers. My own observation confirms -the general belief that professionals cross on nearly every boat; and, -on every boat, there are youngsters fresh from school or college, out of -leading-strings for the first time, and with considerable sums in their -pockets. It is a bad scandal, and might be stopped with the greatest -ease. Prohibit all cards, except whist for small points in the -smoking-room; and let it be the purser’s or some other officer’s duty -to see the rule enforced. As things stand, I do not know of a more -dangerous place for youngsters--American or English--than an Atlantic -steamer. - -One never gets past Sandy Hook, I think, without some new sensation. -This time, for me, it was the harbour buoys, each of which carried a -brilliant electric lamp. They are lighted from the shore! - - - - -Notes from the West, Cincinnati, 24th September 1886. - -I never come to this country without stumbling over some startling -differences between our kin here and ourselves, which it puzzles me to -account for. Take this last. Some days ago, I met a young Englishman -from a Western ranche. He had run down some six hundred miles, from -Kansas City, into which he had brought a “bunch” of steers from the -ranche. As he would not be wanted again for a fortnight, he had taken -the opportunity of looking in on his friends down South. In our talk the -question of railway fares turned up. “Oh, yes,” he said, “the fare is -$25; but I only paid $16.” - -“How is that?” - -“Why, I just went to the ‘ticket-scalpers’,’ right opposite the railway -dépôt--here is their card (handing it to me); and, you see, my ticket is -to Chatanooga; so I might go on for another hundred and fifty miles if I -wanted to.” There was the business card, “Moss Brothers, ticket-brokers, -opposite central dépôt, Kansas City, members of the Ticket Brokers’ -Union.” It went on to say that every attention is paid to travellers, -inquiries made, and information given, by these enterprising Hebrews; -and on the back, a list of the towns to which they could issue tickets, -including nearly every important centre in the Northern and Western -States. Since then I have made inquiries at several towns, and find that -the “scalper” is an institution in every one of them; and, apart from -the saving of money, is much in favour with the travelling public, on -account of his civility and intelligence. The ordinary railway clerk is -a remarkably short-tempered and ill-informed person, out of whom you can -with difficulty extract the most trifling piece of information, even as -to his own line; while the despised “scalper” across the road (generally -a Jew) will take any amount of trouble to find out how you can “make -connections,” while furnishing you with a ticket, which he guarantees, -at a third less, on the average, than his legitimate but morose rival -in “the dépôt.” But the strangest thing of all is, that even the railway -directors seem to think it all right; or, at any rate, that it is not -worth their while to try to stop this traffic. One friend, a first-rate -business man, actually said that he should have no scruple what, ever in -going to the “scalpers” when off his own system, over which, of course, -he is “dead-headed.” I heard several explanations of the phenomenon, the -only plausible one being that it is impossible to control the enormous -issues of cheap excursion tickets which are made by all the main lines. -But surely, then, the question occurs, “Why impossible!” At any rate, -the average Briton is inclined to think that if such establishments -appeared opposite the Euston Square or Waterloo termini, they would -soon hear something from Mr. Moon and Mr. Ralph Dutton not to their -advantage. - -I gleaned other items of information from my young friend from Kansas -which may be useful to some of your readers, now that there is scarcely -a family in England (so it seems to me, at least) which is not sending -out one or more of its younger members to try their fortunes in the -Far West. This, for instance, seems worth bearing in mind: When a young -fellow comes out from home, he shouldn’t go and hire himself out at once -to a farmer. If he does, he’ll find they’ll make the winter jobs for -an Englishman pretty tough. He’ll get all the hardest work laid out for -him, and mighty poor pay at the end. Let him go and board with a farmer. -Any one will be glad to take him for a few dollars. Then he can learn -all he wants, and they’ll be glad of his help, because they’ll see it’s -a picnic. If you like it, you can buy and settle down. If not, you can -just pull out, and go on somewhere else. - -The administration of justice on the plains is still in a primitive -condition. The difficulty of getting a jury of farmers together makes -a gaol delivery a troublesome matter. Another youngster from Dakota -illustrated this from his section. There was a turbulent member of the -community who, after committing other minor offences, at last got lodged -in the shanty which does office for a gaol, on the serious charge of -a murderous attack on a girl who refused any longer to receive his -attentions, and on her father when he came to the rescue. He had lain -in gaol for some weeks, waiting for a judge and jury, when 4th July came -round. The Sheriff-Constable, with all the rest of the neighbours, was -bound for the nearest railway-station, some ten miles off, where the -anniversary of “the glorious Fourth” was to be commemorated, with -trotting marches and other diversions. He had one other prisoner in -charge, and so, after weighing the matter well, and taking the length -of their incarceration into account, came to the ingenious conclusion to -let them out for the day, each going bail for the return of the other on -the following day. On the morrow, however, it was found that the chief -culprit had not turned up, and the fathers of the little community -gathered in indignant council to consider what was to be done. After -some debate the Sheriff-Constable gave it as his opinion that, on the -whole, Dogberry’s advice was sound, and they should let him go, and -thank God they were rid of a knave, “the country having spent too much -already over the darned cuss.” To this the _patres conscripti_ -agreed, and went home to their farms. Even stranger is another -well-authenticated story from one of the most active and important of -the new cities in the North-West. Amongst the first settlers there was -one who had dabbled in real estate, and grown with the growth of the -city, until he had become “one of our principal citizens.” No one seemed -to know whether he was a lawyer by profession, and he never conducted a -case in Court. But one thing was quite clear, that he was intimate with -all the judges, had the _entrée_ to their private rooms, and, especially -in the case of the Judges of the Supreme Court, scarcely ever failed to -avail himself of this privilege when the Courts were sitting. He had a -capital cook and good horses, which were always freely at the service -of the representatives of justice. Gradually it began to be quietly -understood, no one quite knew how, amongst suitors, that it was -possible, and very desirable, to interest the gentleman in question in -their cases. He was ready, it would seem, to accept a retaining-fee. -His charge was fixed at a very moderate percentage on the value of the -property in dispute, which nobody need pay unless they thought it worth -while. Moreover, the system was one of “No cure, no pay.” He gave every -one an acknowledgment in writing of the amount paid in their respective -cases, with an undertaking to return the full sum in the event of their -proving unsuccessful. It therefore naturally appeared to the average -Western suitor about as profitable an investment as he could make. -Strange to say, this queer practice seems to have gone on for years, and -no shadow of suspicion ever fell on this “principal citizen,” whatever -might have been the case as to his friends the judges. The strong -individuality and secretiveness which marks the Western character may -probably account for the fact that during his life no one would seem to -have taken any public notice of this peculiar industry. If a suitor was -successful, he was content; if not, he got back his money, and it was -nobody’s affair but his own. Well, the good man died, and was buried, -and his executors, in administering his estate, were astonished to -find bundles of receipts from suitors of all classes and degrees, -acknowledging the repayment to them of sums varying in amount from $5 -and upwards “in the case of Brown v. Jones,” “in the matter of United -States v. Robinson,” “_ex parte_ White,” etc. This led to further -inquiry, and the facts came ~ gradually to light. The sagacious testator -had, in fact, taken his percentage _from both sides_ in almost every -case of any importance which had been heard in the Courts for years. He -had never mentioned suit or suitor to any of the judges, his visits to -them being simply for the purpose of asking them to dinner, offering -them a drive, or a bed if they were on circuit away from home, or -interchanging gossip as to stocks, railways, or public affairs. And so -for years five honest men had been presiding in the different Courts, -entirely innocent of the fact that almost every suitor was looking upon -each of them as a person who had received valuable consideration for -deciding in his favour. I own that my experience, though, of course, -narrow, is decidedly favourable as to the ability and uprightness of the -judges in out-of-the-way districts; so that nothing but what I could not -but regard as quite unimpeachable evidence would have satisfied me that -a whole-community of litigants should have gone on paying black-mail in -this egregiously stupid manner. - -I was considerably astonished, and a little troubled, to find so many -of my friends among Northern Republicans--men who had gone through and -borne the burden of the War of Secession--not, indeed, sympathising with -the Irish, whom they dislike and distrust more than we do, but saying: -“Oh, you had better let them have their own way. Look at our experience -of twenty years after the war. Until we let the Southern States -have their own way, and withdrew the troops, and threw over the -carpetbaggers, we had no peace; and now they are just as quiet as -New England.” To which, of course, I made the obvious reply: “Let -the seceding States have their own way, did you? Why, I had always -understood that they went out because you elected a free-soil President, -pledged to oppose any further extension of their peculiar institution, -and that at the end of the war that institution had not only been -confined within its old limits, but had absolutely disappeared. The -parallel would have held if you had said to Mr. Jefferson Davis and his -backers in the spring of 1861, ‘Do what you please as to your negroes; -take them where you will; it is a purely domestic matter for you to -settle in your own way.’ Instead of this, you said, ‘You shall not take -your slaves where you please, and you shall not go out of the Union.’ -In the same way, we have to say now to the Irish, ‘You shall not do what -you please with the owners of property in Ireland, and you shall not go -out of the Union.’” - -You will be glad to hear that, wherever I went, there seemed to be -the expectation of a revival of trade in the near future. I can see no -ground myself for the expectation, so long as all industry remains -in its present competitive phase, and the power of production goes on -increasing instead of diminishing. Why should men not desire as eagerly -to take each other’s trade this next year as they did last year? But -the knowing people think otherwise, and I suppose that is good for -something. - - - - -Westward Ho! 2nd April 1887. - -It must be nearly thirty years since I first wrote to you over -this signature, but never before except in long vacations, and from -outlandish parts. Why not keep to a good rule? you may ask, at this -crowded time of year. Well, the fact is I really want to say something -as to this “Westward Ho!” gadfly, which seems to have bitten young -England with a vengeance in these last months. I am startled, not to -say alarmed, at the number of letters I get from the parents and -guardians--generally professional men--of youngsters eagerly bent on -cattle-ranches, horse-ranches, orange-groves in Florida, vineyards, -peach and strawberry-raising, and I know not what other golden dreams of -wealth quickly acquired in the open air, generally with plenty of wild -sport thrown in. I suppose they write from some fancy that I know a good -deal about such matters. That is not so; but I do know a very little -about them, and may possibly do some good by publishing that little just -now in your columns. - -First, then, as to cattle and horse-raising on ranches. This is -practically a closed business on any but a small scale, and as part of -farm work. All the best ranche-grounds are in the hands of large and -rich companies, or millionaires, with whom no newcomer can compete. It -will, no doubt, be a valuable experience for any young man to work for -a year or two on a big ranch as a cowboy; but he must be thoroughly able -to trust his temper, and to rough it in many ways, or he should not try -it. At the end, if prudent, he will only have been able to save a few -hundred dollars. But this is not the kind of thing, so far as I see, -that our youngsters at all expect or want. Orange-groves are excellent -and profitable things, no doubt, and there are parts in Florida and -elsewhere where there is still plenty of land fit for this purpose, -though the choice spots are probably occupied. But an orange-grove -will not give any return till the sixth year, cautious people say the -seventh. - -Vineyards may, with good luck, be giving some return in the third or -fourth year; but the amount of hard work which must be put into the soil -in breaking up, clearing out stumps, and ploughing, even if there is -no timber to fell, is very serious; and the same may be said of -peach-orchards and early, fruit and vegetable-rearing. Moreover, the -choice places for such industry, such as Lookout Mountain, are for the -most part occupied. In a word, though it is quite possible to do well -in other industries, and in ordinary farming, nothing beyond a decent -living can be earned, without at any rate as free an expenditure of -brain and muscle as high farming requires at home. On the other hand, -sport, except for rich ranche-men who can command waggons, horses, and -men, and travel long distances for it, is not to be had generally, and -apt to disappoint where it can be had. - -So much for the working side of the problem. The playing side--outside -whisky-shops, which I will assume the young Englishman means to -keep clear of--ought also to be looked fairly in the face before the -experiment is tried. Perhaps the most direct way to bring it home -to inquirers will be to quote from the letter of a young English -public-school boy who has lately finished his first year as a cowboy on -the cattle-ranche of one of the big companies:-- - -_Friday night_ we had quite a time. We went to an exhibition of the home -talent of----, and really of all shows this was the worst I ever saw. -One man, the town barber, and our greatest “society man,” played a -nigger, and played it so well that one could not help fancying he has at -one time been a “profesh.” The rest were so dull and such sticks that -it made him shine more than ever. After the home talent, there was a -“social hop,” at which Jerry and I shone as being the “bored young men.” - You can, of course, see why I was bored; and Jerry, he is from Ohio, and -of course------ cannot compete with Ohio. However, as Jerry was somewhat -of a great man, the quadrilles being all called by him--i.e. he stood -on the stage and shouted, “balance all,” “swing your partners,” “lady’s -chain,” at the right time--we had to stay, and more or less to dance. -Jerry took great pains to find me partners worthy of a man who had -danced in a dress-coat. He did not succeed but once, when he introduced -me to a very lively little school-lady, “marm,” I should say; the rest -were very wooden in movement and conversation. The school-marm amused me -very much. She had not long returned from the--------- University, where -all the young ladies, though they met the other sex at school, were not -allowed to speak to them at other times. The girls were allowed to give -dances, but she and three or four others thought that a “hen-pie” dance -was too much of a fraud, so they contrived a plan by which they could -get three or four dancing men in without going to the door. They -fastened a pulley on to the beam where the bell hung, and with the aid -of a clothes-basket and a rope they spoiled the “hen-pie” with two or -three young men. This plan worked well several times, till one night -three or four of them were exerting themselves to get a very heavy -boy up, when instead of a boy they perceived the bearded face of the -head-master. In horror they turned loose the rope and fled, leaving -him twelve feet from the ground, hanging on by his fingers to the -window-sill, from which, as no one would respond to his call for help, -he finally dropped. The young lady told it much better than I have. -Jerry was very popular as a “caller.” I noticed he understood his -audience well, and whenever they got a figure they didn’t know, he came -in with “grand chain,” which they all knew and performed very nicely; so -you would see a whole set lost in the intricate feat of “visiting” (say) -and all muddled up, when you would hear the grand voice of Jerry, “grand -chain,” and all the dancers would smile and go to it, and Jerry was -quite the boss. We however lost our reputation as good young men, as -towards midnight we were overcome with a great thirst; so wicked I, a -hardened sinner, persuaded the social barber to let me have half-a-pint -of whisky; and J------ and I were caught in the barber’s shop, eating -tinned oysters with our pocket-knives, and biscuits, and indulging -in whisky-and-water. We were caught by three young men who had “got -religion” last fall, and who were, of course, highly shocked; but I -think they would have overcome all their scruples but for the -stern mothers in the background, and they not only envied us our -whisky-and-water, but also our mothers. Half the fight in drinking, I -think, is to have been “raised” to look upon it as an every-day -luxury, and not as a thing to be had as a great treat on the sly. Well, -good-bye! I have written a lot of rubbish, but beyond that am fatter -than I have ever been in America. - -This will probably give readers a pretty clear notion of the social -life available in the West. It is, as they will see at a glance, utterly -unlike anything they have been used to. If this kind of social life -(and there is something to be said for it) is what they want, in the -interludes of really hard manual labour and rough board and lodging, let -them start by all means, and they may do very well out West. Otherwise -they had better look the thing round twice or thrice before starting. In -any case, no young man ought to take more ready money with him than will -just keep him from starving for about a month. - -If he cannot make his hands keep him by that time, he has no business, -and will do no good, in the West. - - - - -The Hermit, Rugby, Tennessee, 19th September 1887. - -I have always had a strong curiosity about hermits--remember I paid -a shilling as a small boy, when I could ill afford it, to see one, -somewhere up by Hampstead, a cruel disappointment--used to make shy -approaches to lonely turnpike keepers before they were abolished, with -no success; finding them always, like Johnson’s “hoary sage,” inclined -to cut sentiment short with, “Come, my lad, and drink some beer,” I came -to the conclusion long since that the genuine hermit is as extinct as -the dodo in the British Isles. I was almost excited, therefore, the -other morning, to get a note on a dirty scrap of paper here, asking for -the loan of a book on geology, for, on inquiry, I found it came from -“the Hermit.” He had suddenly appeared to the man who drives the hack, -and sent it in by him. No one could tell me anything more except that -the writer was “the Hermit,” and lived, no one knew how, in a shanty -four miles away in the forest. I got the book out of the library, -“loaned” a pony, and in due course found myself outside a dilapidated -snake-fence, surrounding some three acres of half-cleared forest, and -the rudest kind of log-hut; evidently the place I was in search of, but -no hermit. While I was meditating my next move, a dismal howl, like, -I should think, the “lulilooing” of Central Africa, came from out the -neighbouring bush. I shouted myself, and in a few moments “the -Hermit” appeared, and certainly at first glance “filled the bill” - satisfactorily. His head was a tangled mass of long hair and beard, out -of which shone two big, blue eyes; a long, lean figure, slightly -bent, and clothed in a tattered shirt, and trousers which no old Jew -clothesman would have picked off a dunghill. I explained my errand and -produced the book. - -He thanked me, excused his dress; had other clothes, he said, in -the house, which he would have put on had he expected me; was rather -excited, so I must excuse him, as his “buck” had gone right off, in -disgust, he believed, at the smallness of his flock, as he had only -eight ewes. “Buck” I found to be _Anglice_ “ram,” and that it was in the -hope of luring back the insufficiently married lord of his flock that -he had been howling when I came up. On my doubting whether such a call -would not be more likely to speed the flight of the truant “buck,” he -rushed awray in the other direction and uplifted it again; and in two -or three minutes the eight ewes, with several lambs, were all round him, -rubbing against his legs, while an Angora goat looked on with dignity -from some yards off. From our talk I found that he was a Shrewsbury man, -knew three or four languages, and mathematics up to the differential -calculus; found England “too noisy,” and, moreover, could get no land -there; had come out and gone to the agricultural class at Cornell -University; had now bought this bit of land, on which he could live -well, as he was a vegetarian (pointing round to some corn, turnips, -etc., in his enclosure); had indigestion at first, but now had found -out how to make bread which agreed with him. His trouble was the forest -hogs, which were always watching to get at his crops, and his fence, -having weak places, would not keep them out, so he had to be always on -the watch. If he had any one to keep out the hogs, he could go and find -his “buck,” he said, wistfully. The better man within me here was moved -to offer to keep watch and ward against hogs while he sought his “buck”; -but, on the whole, as the sun was already westering, and I had doubts -as to when he might think of relieving guard, my better man did not -prevail, and I changed the subject to the book I had brought. He glanced -at the title-page, was pleased to find that it was of recent date, as -his geology was rusty. Then, as he did not invite me into his log-hut, -I rode away. Next evening, as I was strolling down our street, my -attention was called to the noticeboard outside the chief store, kept by -an excellent, kindly New Englander, Tucker by name, who very liberally -allows any of his neighbours to use it. Here I found the following -notice from “the Hermit,” which had been sent up by the hackman, to be -posted. It opens, you will remark, in the true prophetic style. It ran: -“Ho! all ye passers by! Strayed--like a fool!--a Ram (a male sheep,) -butts like a nipper, and runs after! God will bless the seer if he -lets Isaac Williams, of Sedgemoor Road, know. That is all. Please, Mr. -Tucker, post this. Oh, I forgot,--Buy of Tucker!” I think you will agree -that I have struck a _bona fide_ hermit in my old age. - -But to return to my loafing idyll. Perhaps, if I had to select out of -several the ideal loafing haunt in these parts, it would be the verandah -of our doctor, another bright New Englander, a graduate of Harvard, and -M.D., who, after fourteen years’ practice at Boston, was driven South -by threatenings of chest troubles, and happily pitched on this tableland -amongst the mountains. Not that he is a loaf-brother, except on rare -occasions; a man diligent in his business, and prompt to answer any -professional call; but as nobody seems ever to be ill, his leisure is -abundant. The greater part of this he spends in the study and practice -of grape-culture, in which he has, in the five years since he took -it up, earned a high reputation. But in these autumn months, all the -pruning, thinning, and tending are over in the forenoon, and in the -hours which follow, which are delightfully hot and enjoyable to all -sun-lovers, he is generally to be found in his verandah, well supplied -with rocking-chairs. In front of the verandah is his principal vineyard, -sloping south, and at the bottom of the slope, right away to the distant -mountain-range (with Pike’s Peak soaring to the clouds, the centre -of the military telegraph system in the war, from which messages were -flashed to Look-out Mountain, over Chattanooga, in the critical days -of battle, before Sherman started on his march to the sea), wave beyond -wave, as it were, of many-coloured forest, each taking fresh tints as -clouds flit over, and the triumphant old sun slopes to the West. There -one may find the doctor in his rocker, his feet higher than his head on -one of the verandah supports--and all who have learnt to appreciate the -rocking-chair will agree that “heels up” is half the battle--his tobacco -and a book on vines on a small table by his side, and over his head, -within easy reach, a rope depending from the verandah roof. At first I -took it for the common domestic bell-pull, but soon discovered its -more subtle bearing on the luxury of loafing. The doctor had been much -exercised by the visits of birds of outrageous appetite to his “Norton’s -Virginia,” and other precious vines. At first he had resorted to his -double-barrelled gun and small shot--indeed, it yet stood in a corner of -the balcony, loaded--but had soon abandoned it. Its use was compatible -neither with his love for birds nor the enjoyment of his rocking-chair. -So, by an ingenious arrangement, he had hung bells at five or six points -in the vineyard, connecting each and all with the depending-rope, so -that no sooner did a bird settle with a view to lunch or dinner, than it -was saluted by a peal from a bell close by, which sent it skirling back -to the forest, while the doctor had neither to lower his heels nor take -the pipe from his mouth. - -Watching the entire discomfiture of the birds adds, I must own, a keener -zest even to the delicious view and air, and to the racy stories of -Western life poured out by one or another of the loaf-brethren. A -specimen or two may amuse your readers. Placard over the piano in a -favourite resort of Texan cowboys: “Don’t shoot the musician; he is -doing his best.” Cowboy entering the cars at midnight, thermometer below -zero, after snorting for a minute, lets down a window, is remonstrated -with, and replies, “Wal, I’d as soon sleep with my head in a dead -horse as in this car with the windows shut!” Another tale I repeat with -hesitation, though it was seriously vouched for by the narrator as going -on in his neighbourhood, and within his own cognisance. An eccentric -settler, who played the fiddle powerfully, and lived next a man who had -thrown a bridge over a creek, in respect of which the knotty question -of “right of way” had arisen between them, read, or discovered somehow, -that excessive vibration was the cause of the fall of bridges, and that -a well-known railway iron bridge had been distinctly felt to vibrate to -the notes of a fiddle, all that was necessary being to find the right -chord and play up. Thereupon he set himself on the peccant bridge, -and fiddled till he had hit on the sympathetic chord to his own -satisfaction; since which he has put in all his spare time at the -bridge, fiddling on the right chord and looking for the signs of a crash -and the discomfiture of his neighbour. A mad world, my masters! And -lucky for the world, say I. But for the cracked fellows going up and -down, what a dull place it would be! - -The whole neighbourhood, or, at any rate, the men of hunting age, -have suddenly been roused into unwonted excitement and activity by the -presence of a specimen of the larger carnivora close to this town. It is -either a large panther or what they call a Mexican lion--at any rate, as -big a beast of this kind as are bred over here, as his footprint, seen -of many persons, clearly proves. He has been heard to roar by numbers, -and Giles, the saw-mill man, who, passing along wholly unarmed, saw him -gliding through the bush close by, puts him at five feet from nose to -tail (root, not tip) at least. Giles adds that, at the sight, his hair -stood up and distinctly lifted his straw hat--so perhaps his evidence -must be discounted considerably. Any way, a party, now collecting dogs -to bring him to bay, start to-morrow at dawn to give an account of -him. It is more than a year since one has ventured down this way. A -slaughter-house which has lately been set up in the woods near by would -seem to have drawn him. Let us hope that no cunning old sportsman will -watch there to-night and bag him single-handed, and I may possibly have -to tell you of a memorable hunt next week. - - - - -American Opinion on the Union, SS. Umbria, 5th October 1887. - -That panther-hunt went off in a “fizzle.” Our contingent of determined -sportsmen kept tryst at daylight, fully armed, but some neighbours who -were to bring the proper dogs failed. The sun rose, broad and bright, -and so, after a short advance in skirmishing order over the ground -where the sawmill man had been so scared--just to save their credit -as Nimrods--the chase was abandoned; wisely, I should think, for I -can scarcely imagine a more hopeless undertaking than the pursuit of a -panther in a Tennessee forest in broad daylight without dogs. Whether -Sawyer Giles had grounds for his scare, and what was the length of -that panther, must now remain for all time in that useful category of -insoluble questions--like the identity of “Junius,” and Queen Mary’s -guilt--which innocently employ so much of the spare time of the human -race. - -I have been back for the last fortnight “in amongst the crowd of men,” - and if the things they have done are but “earnest of the things that -they shall do,” well, our grandchildren will have a high old time of it! -At any rate, our cousins hold this faith vigorously. Take, for instance, -the case of a leading dry-goods man who has been sitting by me in the -smoking-room of this ship, which has been carrying us for the last four -days against a head-wind at the average rate of twenty miles an hour. -Recollect, sir, that this ship is about 400 feet in length, of 8800 tons -register, with engines of 14,000 horse-power, and must at this moment be -as heavy as (say) lour big luggage-trains. I ventured to suggest that, -whatever may be in store for us in the way of flying, science has about -said her last word in the direction of driving steam or any other ships -on the Atlantic. I felt almost inclined to resent the pity tinged -with scorn with which he said, “Why, _sir!_ this is the hundred and -twenty-eighth time I have crossed this ocean. The first time it took me -twenty-two days. This vessel does it in six days and a half, and I shall -do it in half that time yet,--yes, _sir!_” My friend must be at least -sixty! - -The New York hotels were crammed as I came through with men who had -come from all parts of the States for the yacht-race. I went out on a -friend’s steam-yacht on the Thursday, when the second day’s race should -have come off. There was fog and no wind off Sandy Hook, so after -lying-to in a lopping sea for a couple of hours, we just steamed -back, some hundred of us. But the game had been well worth the candle. -Anything so beautiful as the movements of those two yachts in and out -amongst the expectant fleet of sightseers, I never beheld. There were -several old yachtsmen (Americans) on board, who seemed rather to think -the _Thistle_ the more perfect of the two, and when the second and -deciding race had been sailed, still guessed that if their Commodore, -Pain, or Malcolm Forbes had sailed the _Thistle_, she would not have -been twelve, or any, minutes behind. - -As to more serious matters, you may be sure I lost no chance of talking -on our crisis with every intelligent American or Canadian,--and I -happened upon a great number of the latter. Amongst the majority of -Americans I was much struck, and, I own, surprised, to find a sort of -lazy fatalism prevailing, so far as they troubled their heads at all -about the Irish question. Not a man of them believed in the tyranny of -the British Government or the wrongs of the Irish; but they seemed to -think it was somehow destiny. They knew the Irish--were likely to have -at least as bad a time with them as we are having--but, unless you made -up your minds to shoot, there was no putting them down or bringing them -to reason. They had had to shoot--in New York during the war, and at -other times--and might probably have to shoot again \ but then, that -was over vital matters. We should never make up our minds to shoot over -letting them have a Parliament at Dublin, and so they would get it by -sheer insolence and intrigue. Such views would have depressed me had -I not found, on the other hand, that the few men who had mastered -the situation, without a single exception saw that it was a matter, -nationally, of life or death, and hoped our Government would shrink -from no measure necessary to restore the rule of law, and preserve the -national life. - -Amongst the Canadians, on the other hand, I did not happen upon a single -Home-ruler--in fact, was obliged to own to myself that they seemed -to set more store by the unity of the Empire than we do in the -as-yet-United Kingdom. Indeed, if my acquaintances are at all -representative of the views of our Canadian fellow-subjects, I feel -very sure that the slight bond which holds the Dominion to us would -part within a few months of the triumph of the Home-rule agitation. -This possible fiasco, however, did not seem to them much worth thinking -about; but what was really exercising them was the probability of a -more intimate union or federation with the Mother-country. For defensive -purposes, I was glad to find that they saw no difficulty whatever; -believed, indeed, that that question was already solved. But all -felt that the really difficult problem was a commercial union, which, -nevertheless, must be managed somehow, if the Empire is to hold -together. On this there were wide differences of opinion, but, on the -whole, a decided inclination to a plan which I will endeavour to put in -a few words. It is, that every portion of the Empire shall be free, as -at present, to impose whatever tariff of customs it might think best -for raising its own revenue; but an agreed discount (say, ten per -cent) should be allowed on all goods the manufacture or product of the -Mother-country, or any of its possessions. Inasmuch, it was argued, as -such à plan would allow the free admission of all food and raw material, -it ought not to hurt the Free-trade susceptibilities of England, while -leaving the self-governing Colonies and India free to raise their own -revenue as might suit their own views or circumstances. On the other -hand, it would give an equal and moderate advantage to all subjects of -the Empire. A similar advantage might also, under this plan, be given to -importations made in ships belonging to any portion of the Empire. - -You, sir, may very probably have heard of and considered this plan, as I -have been told that it, or one almost identical, has been submitted both -to the London Chamber of Commerce, and to the Colonial Office, by -Sir Alexander Galt. I do not remember, however, to have ever seen it -discussed in your columns, as I think it might be with advantage. One’s -brain possibly is not so fit for the examination of political problems -on even such a magnificent ship as the _Umbria_ as on shore; but “after -the best consideration I can give it,” it does seem to me to be a -solution which might go far to satisfy the scruples of all but fanatics -of the “buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market” gospel. - -We have run 435 miles in the teeth of the wind, in the last twenty-four -hours. - - - - -EUROPE--1876 to 1895 - - - - -A Winter Morning’s Ride - -The proverb that “The early bird gets most worms” has no truer -application than in travelling, considered as a fine art. Of course to -him who uses locomotion as a mere method of getting from one place to -another, it matters nothing whether he starts at 3 A.M. or at noon. But -to the man who likes to get the most he can out of his life, and looks -upon a journey as an opportunity for getting some new insight into the -ways and habits and notions of his fellowmen, there is no comparison -between their value. The noonday travelling mood, like noonday light, -is commonplace and uniform; while the early morning mood, like the light -when it first comes, is full of colour and surprise. Such, at any rate, -has been my experience, and I never made an out-of-the-way early start -without coming upon one or more companions who gave me a new glimpse -into some corner of life, and whose experience I should have been the -poorer for having missed. My last experience in this matter is very -recent. In the midst of the wild days of last December I received an -unexpected summons on business to the north. My appointment was for -eleven o’clock on the morrow, 200 miles from London. It was too late to -make arrangements for leaving home at once, so I resolved to start -by the first morning train, which leaves Euston Square at 5.15 A.M. -Accordingly, soon after four next morning I closed the house door -gently behind me, and set out on my walk, not without a sense of the -self-approval and satisfaction which is apt to creep over early risers, -and others who pride themselves on keeping ahead of their neighbours. - -It was a fine wild morning, with half a gale of wind blowing from the -north-west, and driving the low rain-clouds at headlong speed across the -deep clear sky and bright stars. The great town felt as fresh and sweet -as a country hillside. Not a soul in the streets but an occasional -solitary policeman, and here and there a scavenger or two, plying their -much-needed trade, for the wet mud lay inches deep. I was early at -the station, where a sleepy clerk was just preparing to open the -booking-offices, and a couple of porters were watering and sweeping -the floor of the big hall. Soon my fellow-passengers began to arrive, -labouring men for the most part, with here and there a clerk, or -commercial traveller, muffled to the eyes. - -Amongst them, as they gathered round the fire, or took short restless -walks up and down the platform, was one who puzzled me not a little. He -had arrived on foot just before me, indeed I had followed him for the -last quarter of a mile through Euston Square, and had already begun -to speculate as to who he could be, and on what errand. But now that -I could get a deliberate look at him under the lights in the hall, -my curiosity was at once raised and baffled. He was a strongly built, -well-set young fellow of five feet ten or eleven, with clear gray eyes, -deep set under very straight brows. His hair was dark, and would have -curled but that it was cropped too short. He was clean shaved, so that -one saw all the lower lines of his face, which a thick nose, slightly -turned up, just hindered from being handsome. He wore a high sealskin -cap, a striped flannel shirt with turn down collars, and a slipknot -tie with a rather handsome pin. His clothes were good enough, but had a -somewhat dissipated look, owing perhaps to the fact that only one -button of his waistcoat was fastened, and that his boots, good broad -double-soled ones, were covered with dry mud. His whole luggage -consisted of the travelling-bag he carried in his hand, one of those -elaborate affairs which generally involve a portmanteau or two to -follow, but swelled out of all gentility and stuffed to bursting point. - -An Englishman? I asked myself. Well, yes,--at any rate more like an -Englishman than anything else. A gentleman? Well, yes again, on the -whole; though not of our conventional type--at any rate a man of some -education, and apparently a little less like the common run of us than -most one meets. - -Here my speculations were cut short by the opening of the ticket-window -by the sleepy clerk, and the object of them marched up and took a -third-class ticket for Liverpool. I followed his example. My natural -aversion to eating money raw in railway travelling inclining me to such -economy, apart from the interest which my problem was exciting in my -mind. I am bound to add that nothing could be more comfortable than the -carriages provided on the occasion for the third-class passengers of the -N.W.K. I followed the sealskin cap and got into the same carriage with -its owner. As good luck would have it, no one followed us. He put -his bag down in a corner, and stretched himself along his side of the -carriage with his head on it. I had time to look him well over again, -and to set him down in my own mind as a young English engineer, who had -been working on some continental railway so long as to have lost his -English identity somewhat, when he started up, rubbed his eyes, took a -good straight look at me, and asked if any one coming from abroad could -cut us off in the steamer that met this train. I found at once that I -was mistaken as to nationality. - -I answered that no one could cut us off, as there was no straighter or -quicker way of getting to Liverpool than this; but that he was mistaken -in thinking that any steamer met the train. - -Well, he didn’t know about meeting it, but anyway there was a steamer -which went right away from Liverpool about noon, for he had got his -passage by her, which he had bought at the tobacco-store near the -station. - -He handed his ticket for the boat to me, as if wishing my opinion upon -it, which I gave to the effect that it seemed all right, adding that -I did not know that tickets could be bought about the streets as they -could be in America. - -Well, he had thought it would save him time, perhaps save the packet, as -she might have sailed while he was after his ticket in Liverpool, which -town he didn’t know his way about. But now, couldn’t any one from the -Continent cut her off? He had heard there was a route by Chester -and Holyhead, which would bring any one who took it aboard of her at -Queenstown. - -I answered that this was probably so, beginning to doubt in my mind -whether my companion might not, for all his straightforward looks and -ways, have come by the bag feloniously. Could it be another great jewel -robbery? - -I don’t know whether he noticed any doubtful look in my eyes, but he -added at once that he was on the straight run from Heidelberg. He had -come from there to London in twenty-six hours. - -I made some remark as to the beauty of Heidelberg, and asked if he knew -it well. - -Why, yes, he said he ought to, for he had been a student at the -University there for the last nine months. - -Why then was he on the straight run home? I ventured to ask. Term wasn’t -over? - -No; term wasn’t over; but he had been arrested, and didn’t want to go -to prison at Strasburg, where one American student was in for about two -years already. - -But how did he manage to get off? I asked, now thoroughly interested in -his story. - -Well, he had just run his bail. When he was arrested he had sent for the -doctor at whose house he lodged to bail him out. That was what troubled -him most. He wouldn’t have the Herr Doctor slipped up anyway. He was -going to send the money directly he got home, and there were things -enough left of his to cover the money. - -What was he arrested for? - -For calling out a German student. - -But I thought the German students were always fighting duels. - -So they were, but only with swords, which they were always practising. -They were so padded when they fought that they could not be hurt except -just in the face, and the sword arm was so bandaged that there was no -play at all except from the wrist. You would see the German students -even when out walking, miles away from the town, keeping playing away -with their walking-sticks all the time, so as to train their wrists. - -What was his quarrel about? - -Well, it was just this. The American students, of whom there were a -large number there, kept pretty much to themselves, and no love was lost -between them and the Germans. They had an American Club to which they -all belonged, just to keep them together and see any fellow through who -was in a scrape. He and some of the American students were sitting -in the beer garden, close to a table of Germans. Forgetting the -neighbourhood, he had tilted his chair and leant back in it, and so -come against a German head. The owner jumped up, and a sharp altercation -followed, ending in the German’s calling him out with swords. This he -refused, but sent a challenge to fight with pistols by the President of -the Club, a real fine man, who had shot his two men down South before he -went to Heidelberg. The answer to this was his arrest, and arrest was -a very serious thing now. For some little time since, a German and an -American fought, with swords first and then with pistols. The American -had his face cut open from the eye right down across the mouth, but when -it came to pistols he shot the German, who died in an hour. So he was in -jail, and challenging with pistols had been made an offence punishable -by imprisonment, and that was no joke in a German military prison. - -Did he expect the University authorities would send after him then? - -No; but his folk were all in Germany for the winter. He had a younger -brother at Heidelberg who had taken his bag down to the station for him, -and would have let his father know, as he had told him to do. If he had -telegraphed the old gentleman might come straight off and stop him yet, -but he rather guessed he would he so mad he wouldn’t come. No; he didn’t -expect to see his folk again for three or four years. - -But why? After all, sending a challenge of which nothing came was not so -very heinous an offence. - -Yes, but it was the second time. He had run from an American university -to escape expulsion for having set fire to an outhouse. Then he went -straight to New York, which he wanted to see, and stopped till his money -was all gone. His father was mad enough about that. - -I said plainly that I didn’t wonder, and was going to add something by -way of improving the occasion, but for a look of such deep sorrow which -passed over the boy’s face that I thought his conscience might well do -the work better than I could. - -He opened his bag and took out a photograph, and then his six-shooter--a -self-cocking German one, he said, which was quicker and carried a -heavier ball than any he had seen in America; and then his pipes and -cigar tubes; and then he rolled a cigarette and lighted it; and, as the -dawn was now come, began to ask questions about the country. But all -in vain; back the scene he was running from came, do what he would. His -youngest brother, a little fellow of ten, was down with fever. He had -spoilt Christmas for the whole family. It would cut them up awfully. But -to a suggestion that he should go straight back he could not listen. No, -he was going straight through to California, the best place for him. He -had never done any good yet, but he was going to do it now. He had got -a letter or two to Californians from some of his fellow-students, which -would give him some opening. He wouldn’t see his people for four or five -years, till he got something to show them. He would have to pitch right -in, or else starve. He would go right into the first thing that came -along out there, and make something. - -As we got further down the line the morning cleared, and we had many -fellow-passengers; but my young friend, as I might almost call him by -this time, stuck to me, and seemed to get some relief by talking of his -past doings and future prospect. I found that he had been at Würzburg -for a short time before going to Heidelberg, so had had a student’s -experience of two of the most celebrated German Universities. My own -ideas of those seats of learning, being for the most part derived from -the writings of Mr. Matthew Arnold, received, I am bound to own, rather -severe shocks from the evidently truthful experience of one medical -student. - -He had simply paid his necessary florins (about £1 worth) for his -matriculation fee, and double that sum for two sets of lectures for -which he entered. He had passed no matriculation examination, or indeed -any other; had attended lectures or not, just he pleased--about one in -three he put as his average--but there was no roll-call or register, and -no one that he knew of seemed to care the least whether he was there -or not. However, he seemed to think that but for his unlucky little -difficulty he could easily at this rate have passed the examination for -the degree of doctor of medicines. The doctor’s degree was a mighty fine -thing, and much sought after, but didn’t amount to much professionally, -at least not in Germany, where the doctor has a State examination to -pass after he has got his degree. But in America, or anywhere else, he -believed they could just practise on a German M.D. degree, and he knew -of one Herr Doctor out West who was about as fit to take hold of any -sick fellow as he was himself. Oh, Matthew, Matthew, my mentor! When I -got home I had to take down thy volume on Universities in Germany, and -restore my failing faith by a glance at the Appendix, giving a list of -the courses of lectures by Professors, Privabdocenten, and readers -of the University of Berlin during one winter, in which the Medical -Faculty’s subjects occupy seven pages; and to remind myself, that -the characteristics of the German Universities are “_Lehrfreiheit und -Lernfreiheit_,” “Liberty for the teacher, and liberty for the learner”; -also that “the French University has no liberty, and the English -Universities have no sciences; the German Universities have both.” Too -much liberty of one kind this student at any rate bore witness to, and -in one of his serious moments was eloquent on the danger and mischief of -the system, so far as his outlook had gone. - -By the time our roads diverged, the young runaway had quite won me -over to forget his escapades, by his frank disclosures of all that was -passing in his mind of regret and tenderness, hopefulness and audacity; -and I sorrowed for a few moments on the platform as the sealskin cap -disappeared at the window of the Liverpool carriage, from which he waved -a cheery adieu. - -As I walked towards the carriage to go on my own way, I found myself -regretting that I should see his ruddy face no more, and wishing him all -success “in that new world which is the old,” for which he was bound, -with no possessions but his hand-bag and self-reliance to make his -way with. I might have sat alone for thrice as long with an English -youngster, in like case, without knowing a word of his history; but -then, such history could never have happened to an Englishman, for he -never would have run his bail, and would have gone to prison and served -his time as a matter of course. - -How much each nation has to learn of the other! But I trust that by this -time my young friend has seen to it that the good-natured Herr Doctor -who went bail for him hasn’t “slipped up anyway.” - - - - -Southport, 22nd March. - -I wonder if you will care to take a seaside letter, at this busiest -time of the year? Folk have no business to be “on the loaf” before -Easter, I readily admit. Still, there is much force and good-sense, I -have always held, in that tough, old regicide Major-General Ludlow’s -action, when he found England under Cromwell too narrow to hold him. He -migrated to Switzerland, and characteristically changed his family motto -to “_Ubi libertas, ibi patria_” (“Where I can have my own way, there -is my country”) or (if I may be allowed a free rendering to fit the -occasion), “Whenever man can loaf, then is long vacation.” - -But my motive for writing is really of another kind. In these later -years, a large and growing minority of my personal friends -and acquaintances seem to be afflicted with that demon called -Neuralgia,--some kind of painful affection connected with the nerves of -the head and face, which makes the burden of life indefinitely heavier -to carry than it has any right to be. To all such I feel bound to say, -Give this place a trial in your first leisure. In one case, at any rate, -and that an apparently chronic one, in which every east wind, and almost -every sudden change of temperature, brought with it acute suffering, -I have seen with my own eyes a complete cure effected by a few days in -this air. The experiment was tried three months since, and from that -time the demon seems to have been exorcised, and has been quite unable -to return, though we have had a full average in these parts of sudden -changes of temperature,--east winds, cold rains, and the other amenities -of early spring in England. - -Can I account for this? Well, so far as I can judge, the peculiar -conformation of the shore must have much to say to it. From the open -window where I am sitting, there lies between me and the sea (it being -low water) an almost level stretch of sand of more than half a mile in -depth. Beyond that there is a narrow strip of sea, on which a fleet of -tiny fishermen’s craft, with their ruddy-brown sails, are plying their -trade; and again, beyond that, between channel and open sea, is another -long sand-bank. Now I am told, and see no reason to doubt, that the -evaporation from this great expanse of wet sand is charged with double -the amount of ozone which would rise from the like area of salt-water. -But whatever the cause, the fact stands as I have stated above. In -another hour or two the sea will be close up to these windows, lapping -against the sea-wall, and spoiling the view for the time, but, happily, -only for a short time. For while it is up, there is nothing but very -shallow, muddy water to be seen, on which the faithful old sun, try -as he will, can paint no pictures. Whereas at low tide, the colours of -these sandy wastes--the steely gleam of the wet parts, the bright yellow -of the dry, and the warm and rich tints of brown of the intermediate, -and the quaint, black line of the pier, running out across them all till -it reaches the pale blue of the channel, where the fishing-boats all lie -at anchor round the pier-head at sunset--are one perpetual feast, even -to the untrained eye. What the delight must be to a painter, when the -level sun turns the blacks into deep purples, and glorifies all the -yellows and browns, and gives the steely gleams a baleful and cruel -glint, I can only guess, unless, indeed, it should make him hang -himself, in despair of reproducing them on mortal canvas. That long, -black pier is our favourite place of resort. Probably the ozone is -stronger there than elsewhere. It is three-quarters of a mile long, -and at the end, at noon, a most attractive, daily performance comes -off gratis. At that hour the gulls are fed by an official of the pier -company, and afterwards, at intervals, by children, who bring scraps of -viands in their pockets for this purpose. - -I am not defending the practice, which tends, no doubt, to pauperise -a number of these delightful birds. I have watched them carefully, and -never seen one of them go off to earn his honest, daily fish. There they -sit lightly on the water, with heads turned to the pier-head, and float -past with the tide, rising for a short flight back again, as it carries -them too far past to see when the doles are beginning to be served. When -these begin, they are all in the air, wheeling and crossing each other -in perfect flight to get the proper swooping-point. It seems to be a -rule of the game that they pick up the fragments in their swoop, for -when this is neatly done by any one, the rest leave him alone, though he -may carry off a larger prize than he is able to swallow on the wing. But -in a high wind there is trouble. Not one in a dozen of them can then be -sure of his prey in his swoop, and after one or two attempts the greedy -ones alight and attack the viands on the water. But this seems to be -against the rules of the game, and instantly others alight by the side -of the transgressor, and strive eagerly for whatever of the desired -morsel is still outside his yellow beak. I noted with pleasure that -there are generally a few who will take no part in these squabbles, but -if they failed in their swoop, soared up again with dignity, to wait for -another chance. These must, I take it, be undemoralised gulls, from a -distance. Always play your game fair, or there will be trouble, whether -amongst birds or men. - -At other seaside places the shallowness of the sand limits the pure -delight of children in their castle-building. Here it seems boundless. I -saw one sturdy urchin yesterday throwing out stoneless sand from a hole -some four feet deep. The castles and engineering works are therefore on -a splendid scale, several of them from five to ten yards across, inside -which bits of old spars (portions, I fear, of wrecks) are utilised for -causeways and bridges. The infant builders are ambitious, for I have -seen frequent attempts, not wholly unsuccessful, at putting sand -steeples on the churches. These higher efforts were all made by girls, -who, indeed, I regret to say, seemed to do not only the decorative, but -the substantial work. The boys employed themselves mainly in creeping -through the holes which the girls had dug under the spars, to represent -bridges, and in knocking down the boundary walls. Is this a sign of -our topsy-turvy times? In my day, we boys did all the building and -engineering, and the girls used to come and sit on our walls, and -destroy our castles. On this highest part of the sands, the children’s -playground, there stand also certain skeletons of booths, to be covered -with canvas, I presume, in the summer, for the sale of ginger-beer and -cakes. These, the largest especially, some nine feet high, attracted the -boys, several of whom essayed to reach the highest cross-bar. Only one -succeeded while I watched, a born sailor-boy, who was not to be foiled, -and succeeded in getting on to it. There he sat, and looked scornfully -down on the sand-diggers, in the temper, no doubt, of the chorus of the -old sea song-- - - We jolly sailor boys a-sitting up aloft, - - And the land-lubbers funking down below. - -After a time he descended, and, looking for a few moments at the -diggers, went straight away across the sands towards the sea. I saw that -he had only a wooden spade, while most of theirs had iron heads. - -There is another kind of amusement which is strange to me, being -necessarily confined to great expanses of sand. A boat on wheels, called -the _Flying Dutchman_, careers along at a splendid pace when there is -wind enough, and I am told can tack handily, and never runs into the -sea. If it did, it would not matter, as it must at once upset in such -case in very shoal water. When the Royal Society was here, several -eminent philosophers were reported to be disporting themselves in the -_Flying Dutchman_, when the President, Professor Cayley, called on them -to read papers, or make promised speeches. - -This flat sandy coast is far from being so innocent as it looks. There -are the wrecks of two vessels in sight even now. One of these, I hear, -it took the lifeboat fourteen hours’ _continuous hard work_ to reach, -and they brought off every man of the crew, twenty-five in number--a -feat deserving wider fame than it has attained. They must be glorious -sea-worthies, these Lancashire fishermen! Of the fine public buildings, -the four-miles tramway, the Free Library, Botanic Gardens, and the rest, -I need not speak. Lord Derby’s _mot_ on opening the Botanic Gardens is -enough,--that the Southport folk can skate on real ice in July, and sit -under palm-trees at Christmas. But I may say that the esplanade is a -grand course for tricyclers and bicyclers, who seem fond of challenging -and running races with tradesmen’s carts--a somewhat risky operation for -other vehicles and passengers. - -One word, however, before I close, about the most striking of the -churches, St. Andrew’s. I was attracted to it by its good proportions, -and the stone tracery of several of the windows, reminding one of the -patterns of the early decorated period of Gothic art. It can seat some -1500 people on the floor, there being no galleries. I am sorry to say, -however, that appearances are deceitful. It is of no use to have fine -proportions and good decoration if they won’t stand; and unhappily, -although the church is only twelve years old, the cleristory walls have -been blown out of the perpendicular, so that the whole nave roof has -to come off that they may be solidly rebuilt. What would an old monkish -architect have said to such a catastrophe? The more’s the pity, inasmuch -as the necessary closing of the church is going to shelve, probably for -months, the most striking preacher I have heard this month of Sundays. I -first learnt, sir, in your columns the golden rule, that during prayers -the worshipper is responsible for keeping up his own attention, while -at sermon-time it is the parson’s business. Well, I have been to St. -Andrew’s for the last three Sundays, and during sermons, none of which -have lasted less than half an hour, have neither gone to sleep, nor -thought about anything but what the preacher was saying. I suspect it is -(as Apollo says of Theodore Parker, in the “Fable for Critics”) that-- - - This is what makes him the crowd-drawing preacher, - - There’s a background of God to each hard-working feature, - - Every word that he speaks has been fierily furnaced - - In the blast of a life that has struggled in earnest. - -Whatever be the cause, however, there is the fact; and I own I am -somewhat surprised, being rather curious about such matters, that I had -never heard the name of Prebendary Cross before I happened to come to -this place. - - - - -A Village Festival - -Pan is dead! So, at least, those who claim to be teachers of us English -on such subjects have told us; and if our poets cannot be trusted about -them, who can? The present writer, at any rate, does not pretend to an -opinion whether Pan is dead, or, indeed, whether he was ever alive. But -if so, he ought to have kept alive, for never surely was his special -business so flourishing in our country as in these last days. All -round the Welsh border on both sides there is not a hamlet which is not -indulging in its “Lupercalia” in these summer days, in spite of the cold -and wet which have inopportunely come upon us. For the most part, these -“feasts of Pan” are almost monotonously like one another; but I have -just returned from one which had characteristics of its own--a pleasing -variety, and creditable, I think, to gallant little Wales, for the scene -of it was over the border. My attention was called to it by a large -red bill at our station, announcing that, on the 9th inst. the annual -festival of the Gresford Ladies’ Club would be held, for which -return tickets might be had at tempting rates; and further, that “no -rifle-galleries, or stalls used for the sale of nuts and oranges, will -be allowed to be put up in the village or highways on the day.” Why -should a ladies’ club invite me, and all men, by large red bill, to be -present at their festival, and at the same time deprive me of the chance -of indulging in the favourite feast pastime of these parts? I resolved -to satisfy myself; and reaching the pretty station, in due course found -myself on the platform with perhaps a dozen women of all ranks and -ages--evidently members of the club, for each of them wore a white scarf -over the right shoulder, and carried a blue wand with a nosegay at the -top. Following admiringly up the steep hill with other spectators, I saw -them enter a wicket-gate under an arch of flowers, and remained outside, -where the brass band of the county yeomanry were making most energetic -music. Presently the gate opened, and a procession of the members -emerged two-and-two, and, headed by the band in full blast, marched, a -dainty procession, each one white-scarfed and carrying a nosegay-topped -wand, to the parish church hard by on the hill-top. It was a unique -procession, so far as my experience goes. First came the squire’s wife, -the club President, with the senior member, followed by another lady, I -believe from the rectory, with the member next in seniority. These two, -both past eighty, I remarked, instead of the white scarf crossing -the shoulder and looped at the waist with blue, wore large white -handkerchiefs, trimmed with blue, over both shoulders, shawl-wise. This -I found was the old custom, the regular members formerly wearing the -shawl, the honorary members the scarf, for distinction’s sake. Now, all -members, regular and honorary alike, wear the scarf. We are levelling up -fast, and I own I regret it, in this matter of dress. As a boy, I was -in this part of Wales, and almost every woman on holidays wore the red -cloak and high black hat, and looked far better, I think, than their -descendants at this Gresford Club fête, though several of these were -as well dressed as the squire’s wife and daughters. I followed the -procession into church, as did most of the crowd through which they -passed, one man only refusing to join in my hearing, on the ground that -he had been already to one service too many. He had got married there, -his neighbour explained, and his wife was in the procession. The service -was short and well chosen, with a good, sound ten-minutes sermon at -the end, and then the procession re-formed, the band still leading, -and marched to tea in the big schoolroom facing the churchyard. “Scholæ -elymosynæ Dominæ Margarettæ Strode, fundatæ 1725, ad pauperes ejus -sumptibus erudiendos,” I read over the door. I notice that the Welsh -are rather given to Latin inscriptions can it be in token of defiance to -vernacular English? - -During the tea-hour I had the pleasure of exploring church and -churchyard, the former a large and fine specimen of the later -perpendicular, but containing relics of painted glass of a much -earlier date, probably thirteenth century. Portions of this, of a fine -straw-colour, the Rector says, are invaluable, the art being lost. I -wonder what Mr. Powell would say to that? The churchyard is glorious -with its yews, more than twenty grand trees, and the grandfather of them -the largest but one, if not the largest, in the Kingdom. He measures 29 -feet 6 inches round 6 feet from the ground, and is confidently affirmed -by Welsh experts (who have duly noted it in the parish register) to be -1400 years old. Without supposing that Merlin reposed in his shade, one -cannot look at him in his glorious old age and doubt that he must have -been a stout tree in Plantagenet times, and furnished bow-staves for -Welshmen who marched behind Fluellen to the French wars. - -Presently the band struck up again, and the procession returned to the -wicket-gate, through which I now gained an entrance on payment of 1s. -towards the club funds, one of the best investments of the kind I have -ever made, for inside is the most perfect miniature village green I -should think in the world, take it all in all. It is a natural terrace -about one hundred yards long, by (perhaps) forty broad, on the side -of the steep, finely wooded hill, with the station down below, and the -church and village above. The valley, which runs up into the Welsh hills -to the west, is here narrow, with a bright trout-stream dancing along -between emerald meadows out into the great Cheshire plain, over which, -in the distance, rise the cathedral towers and the castle and spires of -Chester. One can fancy the hungry eyes with which many a Welshman has -looked over that splendid countryside from this perch on the hillside -when Hugh Lupus and his successors were keeping the border, with short -shrift for cattle-lifters. It is well worth the while of any of your -readers who may be passing Gresford Station this autumn, to stop over -a train, and go up and spend an hour there. But I must get back to the -ladies’ club, who now, at 6 P.M., opened the three hours’ dance on -the green, the great feature of the gathering. It began with a -country-dance, at which we males could only gaze and admire. As before, -the squire’s wife and the senior member led off, and went down the -thirty or forty couples. What wonderful women are these Welsh! I was -fascinated by the next senior, a dear old soul, who had only missed this -dance twice in more than sixty years, and was in such a hurry to get -under way, that she started before the leading couple had got properly -ahead, rather thereby confusing the subsequent saltations. When the -music at last stopped, she sat herself on a bench, a picture of joyous -old age, and declared that if she had been a rich woman, she should have -spent all her substance in keeping a band. After the country-dance -came polkas, in which I noted that for some time the men, by way of -reprisals, I suppose, danced together; but this did not last long, and -presently the couples were sorted in the usual manner, and when the -station-bell warned me to speed down the hill, I left them all as busy -on the green as the elves (perhaps) may be in the moonlight, or Pan’s -troop in the days before his lamented decease. On my way home I mused -on the cheering evidence the day had afforded of the healthy progress -of the great task which has been laid on this generation, and’ which it -seems to be taking hold of so strenuously and hopefully. I do not know -that I ever saw so entirely satisfactory a blending of all classes in -common enjoyment, which to some extent I attribute to the custom of -the procession, and the sorting of honorary and regular members above -noticed. During the whole afternoon I never heard a word which might -not have been spoken in a drawing-room, and in spite of the rigorous -exclusion of tobacco, there was no lack of young men. I question whether -it would be possible to see the like in any exclusive gathering, either -of the classes or the masses. The club is as prosperous financially, I -am glad to hear, as it is socially, having a reserve fund of some £600, -while the subscriptions are very moderate. No doubt the political -and industrial atmosphere is dark with heavy clouds both’ at home and -abroad; but I do begin to think that this white lining of a truer -and fuller blending of our people than has ever been known before in -England, or anywhere else, is going to do more than compensate for -whatever troubles may be in store for us from wars or other convulsions, -and that we shall be in time to meet them as a united people. - - Then let us pray that come it may-- - - As come it will for a’ that-- - - That man to man, the warld o’er, - - Shall brithers be for a’ that. - - - - -The “Victoria,” New Cut. - -Of all the healthy signs of real social progress in this remarkable -age, I know of none more striking, or, I will add, more thankworthy in -a small way, than the contrast of the present condition of the big -People’s Theatre in Southwark with that which middle-aged men can -remember. Probably many of my readers who in the fifties and sixties -held it to be part of the whole duty of man to attend the University -boat-race at Putney, or the Oxford and Cambridge match at Lord’s, will -be able to call up in their memories the “Vic.” of those days. For my -own part, I always felt that the big costermonger’s theatre suffered -unfairly in reputation--as many folk and places before it have done--for -the casual notice of a man of genius. “Give us the Charter,” Charles -Kingsley makes his tailor-hero exclaim in 1848, “and we’ll send workmen -into Parliament who shall find out whether something better can’t be -put in the way of the boys and girls in London who live by theft and -prostitution, than the tender mercies of the Victoria.” I do not pretend -to anything more than a casual acquaintance with the “Vic.” in those -days; but my memory would not bear out Parson Lot in denouncing it as “a -licensed pit of darkness.”, That description would far better designate -the Cider Cellars, the Coal Hole, and other fashionable resorts on the -north side of the Thames, in which a working man’s fustian jacket -and corduroys were never seen. I should say that one evening spent -at Evans’s in those days, or at the mock Court (the judge and jury) -presided over by Baron Nicholson, as that rotund old cynic was called, -would have done any youngster far more harm than half a dozen at the -“Vic.” At the one you might sit smoking cigars and drinking champagne, -if you were fool enough, and hear everything that was sacred and decent -slily or openly ridiculed and travestied, in the company of M.P.’s, -barristers, and others, all well-dressed people. At the “Vic.” you could -rub shoulders with costers and longshoremen, noisy, rowdy, and prone -to fight on the slightest provocation, while the entertainment was -more than coarse enough, but quite free from the subtle poison of a -crim.-con. trial presided over by Baron Nicholson. With this saving, -however, I am bound to admit that the old “Vic.” was not a place which -could have been looked on without serious misgivings by any one in the -remotest degree responsible for peace or decency in South London. The -influence which it exercised, to put it mildly, though undoubtedly -powerful, could by no possibility have had any elevating effect on the -intellect or morals of any human being; but for all that, it was -always a favourite place of resort, and had a strong hold on the dense -population who earn a scanty and precarious living in the New Cut and -the Old Kent Road. How it was that the lease of the old “Vic.,” with -seventeen years still to run, came into the market some eight years -back, I am not aware; but so it happened, and it was purchased by a -financial Company, who, with the best intentions, embarked on the risky -experiment of running the “Royal Victoria Hall,” as it was now called, -as a coffee-tavern and place of entertainment, against the neighbouring -music-halls in which drink was sold. In eight months the Company lost -£2800, and the Victoria was closed, with every chance of drifting back, -on the next change of ownership, into the old ruts. Happily for South -London, a better fate was in store for the “Vic.,” for there were those -who had eyes to see its value if properly handled, not, indeed, as a -commercial speculation, but as a power for lifting the social life of -the neighbourhood on to a higher level. A committee was formed, with the -late Mr. Samuel Morley as chairman, and Miss Cons as honorary secretary -and manager, a guarantee fund was raised, and the Hall reopened. It has -been a hard fight; but with a chairman whose speech in the darkest hour -rang, “We don’t mean to let this thing fall to the ground,” and a lady -of unsurpassed experience and devotion amongst the poor, whose whole -life was from the first freely and loyally given to the work, the field -has been won. I say deliberately “won,” and if any one doubts my word, -let him walk over Waterloo Bridge any evening (for the “Vic.” is always -open), and look at this thing fairly; let him go into the coffee-tavern, -the theatre, the big billiard and smoking-rooms, the reading and -class-rooms at the top, and the gymnasium in the basement, and keep his -ears and eyes wide open all the time,--and then go home and thank God -that such work is going on in the very quarter of our huge city in which -the need is sorest. I say, let him go any evening, but for choice I -would advise a Tuesday, for on Tuesdays the “Penny Science Lectures” - are given, which are, of course, less popular than the variety -entertainments and the ballad concerts which occur whenever the funds -allow, or some first-rate artist, such as Sims Beeves, volunteers to -come and sing to the Hew Cut. To return to the “Penny Science Lectures,” - the wonder is, not that eminent men should be ready to go over to -Southwark and give them without payment--that note of our day has become -too common to surprise--but that an average of over five hundred, mostly -of the _gamin_ age, from the Hew Cut, should be ready to pay their penny -and come, and listen, and appreciate. - -It was on May Day that I visited the old “Vic.,” almost by chance, and -without a notion of what I was likely to see or hear. The lecture was on -“The Foundation-Stones of London,” and proved to be a geological, not an -archæological one. Mr. H. Kimber, M.P. for the neighbouring division -of South London, was in the chair, and the lecturer was Professor Judd, -F.R.S., who, in a clear, terse address, aided by excellent dissolving -views projected by limelight on the huge drop-scene of the stage, -showed the gravel, clay, chalk, and lower strata, with the fossils found -in each, with admirable clearness. The big theatre was not, of course, -full, but there was a large audience, quite up to the average of upwards -of five hundred, and any one at all used to such scenes could see how -keenly interested they were, and how quick to seize the lecturer’s -points. Most of the men were in their working clothes, but clean and -brushed up, and no lecturer could have wished for a better audience. The -only thing that brought back to my mind the slightest remembrance of the -old “Vic.” was, that by a coster in the centre of the front row of the -pit sat a big brindled bull-terrier of the true fighting type. Strange -to say, he remained looking at the views with perfect gravity till the -lecturer made his bow, when he jumped quietly down at once, and trotted -about the pit to find friends, as though he had learned all he could, -and wanted to talk it over with pals, but was not interested in the -formal vote-of-thanks business. On the three following Tuesdays, as the -bills informed me, “The Moon,” “The Circulation of the Blood,” and “The -Backbone of England,” were the subjects, all, again, illustrated by -dissolving views. And these lectures are kept up on every Tuesday, such -speakers as the Dean of Westminster, Sir John Lubbock, Professor Seeley, -taking their turn with the purely scientific men, and drawing as good -attendances. - -You must find room for one specimen of the quick humour of this New Cut -audience. Dr. Carpenter, in one of his experiments, dispensed with a -prism, explaining to his audience that the objects would now appear -inverted, and they must “put them right way up” in their minds,--“or -stand on yer ’eds,” came the prompt suggestion from the gallery. Out -of these lectures science-classes have grown in the last three years, -encouraged by a committee, selected from the Council, of some hundred -ladies and gentlemen. Of these I have no space to speak; but one fact -will indicate the thoroughness of the work done at them. Dr. Fleming’s -report for 1887 tells us that out of forty students who went in for -examination in the several classes, seven obtained first-class, and -eighteen second-class certificates. I have only touched on what, after -all, is an outgrowth, which has developed naturally from the original -scheme, but was no part of it. This was rational and hearty and clean -amusement. The Council were determined to test whether an answer could -not be found to the straight question of “Poor Potlover” in Punch:-- - - “Where’s this cheap and respectable fun - - To be spotted by me? There’s the kink! - - Don’t drink? All serene, if you’ll p’int me to summat that’s better - - than drink. - -To that “summat” the Victoria Hall Council, all honour to them, have -pointed with quite encouraging success. There is no department of the -Hall which is not in a healthy condition, and the fact that £1800 was -taken in pennies and twopences for admissions during 1887, though -the Hall was closed in the summer for repairs, may well encourage the -Council and their devoted manager to take courage and persevere in their -present effort to purchase the freehold as a fitting memorial to Mr. -Samuel Morley. There was no part of his wide work of philanthropy which -that fine old English merchant valued more than this. He supported it -lavishly during his life, and had he lived till the freehold came into -the market, there would have been little difficulty in raising the -necessary sum, £17,000. Of this, £3500 has already been promised by -members of the Council, and I cannot believe that the opportunity will -be allowed to slip, and the deposit-money of £500 already paid to be -forfeited. It seems that the Charity Commissioners have let it be known -that the old “Vic.” will be accepted by them as one of the People’s -Palaces for South London, if the freehold can only be obtained; and I -cannot for a moment doubt that this will be done if the facts are only -fairly known. The teetotalers ought to do all that remains to be done, -in gratitude for the best story in their quiver, which they owe to the -“Vic.” A short meeting is held, called the “Temperance Hour,” _outside_ -the house on Friday nights, at which working men are the speakers. One -of them, a carter, stuck fast at the bottom of a hill in the suburbs one -day. Another man who was passing, unhitched his own team and helped him -up. On an offer to pay being made, the good Samaritan declared he had -been paid beforehand. “Why, I never saw you before in my life, did I?” - “I’ve seen you, though,” said the other; “I heard you speak one night -outside the ‘Vic.’ and I went in and took the pledge--me and my family -has been happy ever since!” - - - - -Whitby and the Herring Trade, 30th August 1888. - -Any fresh herrings for breakfast, sir? Four a penny this morning, sir!” - Such was my greeting this day, as I turned out of my lodgings for an -early lungs’-full of this inspiring air. I had almost broken out on that -fish-wife with, “Why, you abominable old woman, you asked me twopence -for three yesterday”; but restraining my natural, if not righteous -indignation, I replied meekly, “Four a penny! Why, what makes them so -cheap, ma’am?” - -“T’ boats all full--ha’n’t had sech a catch this summer,” which news -gladdened me almost as much as if the catch had been my own. No one can -watch these grand fellows, the Dogger Bank fishermen, and not feel, a -sort of blood-relationship to them, and the keenest sympathy with their -heroic business on the great waters. So, thinks I, I’ll go down to the -quay directly after breakfast, and see them all at their best, those -hard-handed, big-bearded, soft-hearted sea-kings from all the East and -South Coast towns of England, from Sunderland to Penzance. When they are -such grand, silent, kindly creatures on every day in the week, even when -the catch has been poor and light, what will they be to-day? - -I had spent most of my mornings for some days on the quay, watching the -fish-market there with much interest. It goes on nearly all the forenoon -on the pavement, just above that part of the harbour-wall to which -the herring-boats run when they come in from their night’s work on the -Dogger Bank. A simple, hand-to-mouth kind of business, the auction; -but well adapted, at any rate, to clear the boats, and get their daily -contents to market in the quickest and cheapest way. As soon as a boat -comes to the quay, one of the crew (generally numbering five men, or -four men and a boy) comes on shore with a basket half-full of herrings, -and turns them out on the pavement. The fish-broker who acts for that -boat comes up, looks at the sample, and makes an offer for the ship’s -take by “the lash” or ten thousand. If this is accepted, the unloading -begins at once; but if not, as is oftenest the case, the take is put -up to auction. The broker rings a bell, which soon brings round him the -seven or eight other brokers like himself, and other buyers (if any) who -are within hearing. Up goes the first last of ten thousand at once, and -no time is lost or talk thrown away. In very few minutes the whole is -sold, and a cart or lorry from the railway is standing by to carry off -the barrels in which the herrings are packed then and there. Now, on the -previous day I had heard the prices ranging from £7: 10s. to £8 for “the -last,” and had not remarked that only some six boats of the whole fleet -had come back from the fishing-grounds, and that none of these had made -anything like a big catch. Consequently, I came down prepared to hear -something like the same prices ruling, and to see most of the crews -drawing at least from £15 to £20 for their night’s work. - -Well, in a long life I don’t remember ever to have been more hopelessly -wrong or unpleasantly surprised. I could see at once that all was not -right by the faces of the men and women in the small groups scattered -about the market, which now drew together as the broker’s bell rang for -the sale of the herrings, which lay, a lovely, gleaming mass, at least -three feet deep in the uncovered hold of the _Mary Jane_, as she rocked -gently on the harbour swell, some twenty feet down below us. I could -scarcely believe my ears as I heard the bids slowly rising by 5 s. at a -time till they reached 30s. the last, and there stopped dead. The hammer -fell, and the whole catch of the _Mary Jane_ passed to the purchaser in -about two minutes at that figure. The next boat, and next but one, did -no better. Broker after broker knocked his client’s catch down at 30s. -Once only I heard an advance on that figure, and this was by private -contract. The handsome Hercules, in long leather boots and blue jersey, -who represented one of the Whitby boats, appealed in my hearing to the -broker, who relented with no very good grace, and agreed to give £2 per -last of ten thousand of the catch of Hercules’s boat. - -It was a depressing sight, I must own, even in the bright sunshine of -this most picturesque of English harbours, and Sam Weller’s earnest -inquiry to his master, “Ain’t somebody to be wopped for this?” rose -vividly in my mind as the fittest comment on the whole business. Just -then a tug which had been getting up steam was ready to leave the -harbour, and two Hartlepool smacks, whose freights of herrings were -still unsold, hitched on, to be towed out to sea and then run home, -in the hope of finding a better market in the Durham port. An old salt -stood next me, whose fishing days were well over, and who had just taken -a good bite of the blackest kind of pigtail to comfort himself. I looked -inquiringly at him as the tug steamed out between the two lighthouses, -with the smacks in tow; but he shook his head sorrowfully. “Well, but -they can’t do worse than here,” I remonstrated; “herrings maybe scarcer -in the colliery district.” He jerked his head towards the little group -of brokers and buyers,--“They’d know the prices at Hartlepool in five -minutes,” he said. This telegraphing was to his mind the worst thing -that had happened for fishermen in his time. “Did prices often go up and -down like this?” I asked. “Yes,” and worse than this. He had known them -as low as 15s. and as high as £15 within a few days. No, he couldn’t see -what was “to odds it” much for the better. Last time he was across -at Liverpool he had stopped at a big fish-shop where he saw barrels -standing which he recognised. “What’s the price of those herrings?” he -asked. “Eight for 6d.” the man answered. “So I told him I saw they was -from Whitby, and that he got them at Whitby for 6d. a hundred.” - - - - -Whitby and the Herring Trade, 31st August 1888. - -I had got thus far last night, and posted down again early this morning -to the market, which has a sombre kind of attraction for me. Only two -boats in, with light catches of from one and a half to two lasts each. -The first sold at £5: 5s., which price the second boat refused. Theirs -were a first-rate lot, and they shouldn’t go under £6, for which they -were holding out when I had to leave, and there seemed to be a general -belief that they would get it. This was puzzle enough for any man, to -see under his own eyes the same fish sold on three consecutive summer -days for £7:10s., £1:10s., and £5:5s.!--a sort of thing no fellow can -understand. To add to my bewilderment, I learnt that at Great Grimsby -yesterday (the £1:10s. day here) the last had sold for upwards of £15! -So that my old salt’s view as to the telegraph doesn’t quite hold water, -and the two smacks which shook the water off their bows and sailed for -Hartlepool, may have made a good day’s work of it, after all. Indeed, -a sailor on the quay declared that they had sold at £5, so that, after -paying £2 apiece for the tug, which had towed them all the way, they -still got £3 a last, or double the price they would have realised at -Whitby. “So it comes to this, that the more fish you catch, the less -pay you get,” I said to my informant. “Yes,” he seemed to think that was -mostly the case, adding that to his mind it was the railways that made -all the money out of fish-- - - Sic vos non vobis mellificatis apes. - -It is an old story enough, but scarcely less true or sad in 1888 than -when most of the world’s hardest work was done by slaves. However there -are, happily, signs in the air that, here in England at any rate, we are -waking up to the truth, that if we can find no better way of organising -industry than competition run mad, we are going to have real bad times. -Royal Commissions on the sweating system; Toynbee Hall interventions in -great strikes; co-operative effort springing up all over the country, -and finding its most zealous and devoted advocates at least as much -amongst those who don’t work with their hands as those who do,--all go -to prove that the reign of king _laissez faire_, with his golden rule -of “cash payment the sole _nexus_ between man and man,” is over. -Indeed, our danger may soon be from too much meddling with and mothering -industry. Nevertheless, no one can spend a few hours on the quay here in -the herring season and not long for some one--scholar, philanthropist, -political economist (new style), co-operator--to come along and teach -these fine fellows to read their sphinx riddle. It would not be, surely, -such a difficult task as it looks at first sight. There is no need to -begin with the vast herring-fishing industry, with its distant markets -at Billingsgate, Liverpool, and Manchester. The reform might begin at -once on a modest scale. Beside the herrings, one sees every -morning other fish lying on the quay--skate, cod, ling, whiting, -rock-salmon--brought in by the smaller and less venturesome boats by -dozens, not by lasts of ten thousand. Take the cod as the most valuable -of these fish. I saw four fine cod-fish sold by auction yesterday on the -quay for 5s. 3d. Within a few hundred yards, and all over the town, cod -was selling at the shops at 6d. the pound. Surely a very moderate amount -of organising ability would enable those who catch these fish to get the -retail prices prevailing on the same day in the home market, and then -the experience gained might assist materially in the solution of the -larger problem. - -Meantime, besides the almost unique interest and beauty of its -surroundings,--the steep cliffs, on which the quaint old red-roofed -houses, with their wooden balconies, are piled in most picturesque and -unaccountable groups; the grand old abbey ruin looking down from the -highest point; the swing-bridge between the two harbours, and the -estuary beyond, running up into a fine amphitheatre of green meadow and -dark wood, dotted with village churches and old windmills, and backed by -the high moors,--there is a joyous side to Whitby harbour, even on days -when the market goes most against the Dogger Bank fishermen. If the -fathers have too often to eat sour grapes, their children’s teeth are -not set on edge,--such merry, well-fed, bare-footed urchins of both -sexes I never remember to have seen elsewhere. They swarm, out of school -hours, along the quays; skim up and down the water-worn harbour-walls -wherever there is a rope hanging; run over the herring boats lying side -by side, as soon as the freights are cleared; and toboggan down the boat -slides at the gangways, dragging themselves along on their stomachs when -these are not slippery enough for the usual method of descent. There -seems, too, to be a large supply of old rickety tubs kept for their -special use; for all day long you see two or three of them scrambling -into one of these, and sculling about the harbour, no man hindering or -apparently noticing them. Finer training for their future life would be -hard to find, and one cannot help doubting as one sees their straight -toes, as handy almost as fingers in their climbing feats, whether the -last word has been spoken as to clothing the human foot, at any rate up -to the age of ten or twelve. It is not often, I think, that one comes -on early surroundings and heroes entirely suited to each other; but -Whitby’s hero--patron saint I had nearly called him--could have found -no such suitable place to have been raised in all the world round. James -Cook was born in a neighbouring village, but first apprenticed on board -a Whitby collier, and to the last days of his life retained a most -loving remembrance of the old town. Every one of his famous ships, -the _Endeavour_, the _Resolution_, and the _Discovery_, were built at -Whitby. The house, of his master, Mr. Walker, with whom he lived during -his apprenticeship as a sailor lad, and to whom most of his letters were -written after he had mapped the Quebec reaches of the St. Lawrence -under the fire of the French guns, and was a gold-medallist of the Royal -Society and the most famous of eighteenth century navigators, is still -fondly pointed out in a narrow street running down to the inner harbour. - - - - -Sunday by the Sea, Whitby, 7th September 1888. - -We saw something of the industrial life of Whitby last week. The -spiritual is quite as interesting, and certainly, so far as my -observation goes, has a character of its own, distinct from that of any -other of our popular seaside resorts. It may be the presence of so -large a seagoing element; at any rate, unless appearances are quite -misleading, there is an earnest and deep though quiet religious impulse -working amongst the harbour-folk and townspeople, not without its -influence in the new quarter which has grown on to the old town, and -with its casino and large cricket and lawn tennis grounds, is becoming a -popular--though, happily, not a fashionable--summer resort. This is, of -course, most apparent on Sundays, on which the absence of anything like -the annoyances, both religious and secular, which spoil the day of -rest at so many health-resorts, is very noteworthy. Not that Whitby is -without its open-air services. On the contrary, they are at least as -frequent as elsewhere, on quays, shore, cliffs; but after watching them -with some care I do not remember anything fanatical or startling, or -in the bad taste of coarse familiarity with mysteries which so often -revolts one in street and field preaching elsewhere. One of these I had -never seen the like of before, and am inclined to think it may interest -your readers. On my first Sunday afternoon I was watching a crowded -service on the quay, at the foot of the West Cliff, from above. As it -ended, and began to disperse, a man in sailor’s Sunday suit of thick -blue cloth severed himself from the crowd, and came leisurely up the -stone steps, with a Bible and hymn-book in his hand. At the top of the -steps is a public grass-plot, some thirty by twenty yards in size, the -only part of the sea-front which has escaped enclosure on this cliff. -Round it are some fifteen or sixteen benches, very popular with those -who will not pay to go into the casino enclosure. They were all occupied -by people chatting, smoking, courting, looking at the view, when the -newcomer walked into the middle of the plot, took off his fur-trimmed -sailor’s cap, opened his Bible, and looked round. He was good to look -at, with his strong, weather-beaten, bronzed features, short-cropped, -grizzled hair, and kindly blue eye, part-owner and best man in one of -the Penzance boats, I heard. On looking at him, passages in the lives -of Drake and Hawkins, and Wesley and Whitfield, and Charles Kingsley’s -loving enthusiasm for the Cornish sailor-folk, became clearer to me. Not -a soul noticed him or moved from their seats, and the talking, smoking, -courting went on just as though he were not there, standing alone on -the grass, Bible in hand. I quite expected to see him shut his book and -depart. Not a bit of it. Clearly he had come up there to deliver his -testimony. That was his business; whether any one chose to listen to it -or not, was theirs. So he read out two or three verses from the Epistle -to the Romans, and began to preach. His subject was Paul’s conversion, -which he described almost entirely in St. Luke’s and the Apostle’s own -words, which he quoted without referring to his Bible, and then urged -roughly, but with an earnestness which made his speech really eloquent, -that the same chance was open to every one. He himself had heard the -call thirty years ago, and had been happy ever since. He had been in -peril of death again and again since then, had seen boats founder with -all hands, but had no fear, nor need any man have, by sea or land, who -would just hear and follow that call. Then he stopped, wiped his brow, -and looked round. The sitters had all become silent, but not a soul of -them moved or spoke. I was standing, with one or two others, behind the -high rails of the enclosure, or I think we should have gone and stood by -him as he gave out a hymn; but we knew neither words nor tune, so were -helpless. He sang it through by himself, made a short prayer “that the -word that day might not have been spoken in vain,” and then put on his -cap, and went down the steps into the crowd below. One voice from the -benches said “Thank you!” as he left the plot. - -The next service I came across was a strange contrast. Under the cliff, -in front of the Union Jack planted in the sands, was a large gathering, -composed mostly of children sitting in rows, with mothers and nurses -interspersed, and a number of men and women standing round the circle. -As I came up, I was handed a leaflet of hymns, which explained that it -was a gathering of the “Children’s Special Service Mission,” which has -its head-quarters, it seems, in London, and is presided over by Mr. -Stuart, the vicar of St. James’s, Holloway. The service was conducted by -a young man not in orders, with a strong choir to help him. He, too, did -his preaching earnestly and well; and though it seemed to me above the -younger children’s heads, who for the most part made sand-castles or -mud-pies furtively, was evidently listened to sympathetically by the -elder part of the audience who stood round. But if the teaching scarcely -touched the children, they all left their mud-pies and enjoyed the -singing. The Mission, I was told, holds these services on the sands -through the seaside season, at all the chief resorts on the coast. -The leaders and organisers are mostly young men and women, and all, I -believe, volunteers. A noteworthy sign of our time the Mission seemed -to me, and I was glad to hear that it is countenanced, if not actively -supported, by the resident Church clergy. - -If we turn from the volunteer to the regular side of Church work, Whitby -still has an almost unique attraction for the student of the religious -movement in England. The late Dean Stanley, who loved every phase of the -historical development of the life of the National Church, and mourned -over the thoroughness of recent restorations, which, as he thought, -threaten the entire disappearance of the surroundings and forms of the -worship of the Georgian era, would have thanked God and taken courage -if he could have visited Whitby Parish Church in 1888, for church and -service are a perfect survival. The wave of Victorian ecclesiastical -reform, without destroying anything, seems to have gently removed all -that was really objectionable, and breathed new life into the dry -bones of Georgian worship. I am not sure that I should say “everything -objectionable,” for probably the vast majority of even truly Catholic -church-goers would not agree as to the big shield with the national arms -which hangs over the centre of the chancel arch, dividing the two tables -of the Ten Commandments. I am prepared to admit that this particular -lion and unicorn are not good specimens of discreet beasts of their -respective kinds. But even as they stand they are national symbols, and -no reminder that Church and nation are still one can be spared nowadays; -and they are not half so grotesqile as most of the gurgoyles you will -see in the noblest Gothic cathedrals. And then they vividly remind my -generation of the days when they first toddled to church in the -family procession. The church itself is a gem, though with no orthodox -architectural beauty, for it retains traces of the handiwork of thirty -generations in its walls, pillars, galleries, and stunted square -tower,--from the round arches (there are still two, though the best, a -fine Norman window, has been bricked up) of its earliest builders in the -twelfth, to the white-washed walls and ceilings and square-paned windows -of eighteenth century churchwardens. I should think the three-decker (I -am obliged to use the profane name, having forgotten the correct one), -the clerk’s desk, reading-desk, and pulpit rising one above the other -in front of the chancel, must be unique, the last of its race. The clerk -has, indeed, retired into the choir; but the rector still reads the -prayers and lessons admirably from his desk, and ascends the pulpit, -where he is on a level with the faculty pew of the squire, and the low -galleries, to deliver his excellent short discourses. Long may he and -his successors do so. One is only inclined to regret that he does not -take off his surplice in the reading-desk, and ascend to preach in his -black gown. Curious it is to remember that less than thirty years ago -Bryan King and others excited riots in many parishes by preaching in -the surplice. The pews on the floor are all high oaken boxes with -doors, though the great majority of them are now free. The visitor in -broadcloth is put into one of the larger ones, lined with venerable -baize, once green. These are somewhat narrow parallelograms with seats -round the three sides, so that it requires caution in kneeling to avoid -collision with your opposite neighbour. And the body of the church being -nearly square by reason of the addition of side aisles at different -periods, and the “three-decker” well out on the floor, the pews have -been planned so that they all face towards it, and consequently all the -congregation can see each other. This is supposed to be a drawback to -worship; probably is--must be, where people have been always used to -looking all one way. That it really hinders a hearty service, no one -would maintain who has attended one in Whitby Parish Church. It was -quite full, when I was there, of a congregation largely composed of men, -and the majority of these sailors and other working folk. Let any reader -who still goes to church make a point of ascending the 190 stone steps -which lead up to it from the old town, and looking at the matter with -his own eyes, if ever he should be within reach. The rector is a sort -of successor to the old abbots of St. Hilda, with ecclesiastical -jurisdiction over the whole town, wherein are five or six churches -worked by curates, all in the modern style, seats facing eastward, no -three-deckers, surpliced choirs, and chanted psalms, and canticles. -Indeed, in one place of worship, those who have a taste for gabbled -prayers, bowings and posturings, lighted candles, and the rest of the -most modern ritual, can find it, but in a proprietary chapel not under -the jurisdiction of the rector. - - - - -Singing-Matches in Wessex, 28th September 1888. - -I remember, sir, that some quarter of a century ago, you were -interested in the popular songs of our English country-folk, and so may -possibly think gleanings in this field still worthy of notice. In that -belief, I send this note of some “singing-matches,” which, by a lucky -chance, I was able to attend last week in West Berks. The matches in -question were for both men and women, a prize of half a crown being -offered in each case. The occasion was the village “veast,” or annual -commemoration of the dedication of the parish church, still the -immemorial day of gathering and social reunion in every hamlet of this -out-of-the-way district. I was glad to find the old word still in use, -for as a Wessex man it would have been an unpleasant shock to me to -find the “veast” superseded by a “festival,” habitation, or other modern -gathering. In some respects, however, I must own that the character of -the “veast” has changed; these singing-matches, for instance, being -a complete novelty to me. There used to be singing enough after the -sports, as the sun went down, and choruses, rollicking and sentimental, -came rolling out of the publicans’ booths--for the most part of dubious -character--but singing-matches for prizes I never remember. I suppose -the craze for competitive examination in every department of life may -account for this new development; anyhow, there were the matches to come -off--so the bills assured us--in the village schoolroom, of all places, -which was thrown open for this purpose, and for dancing, at sunset. -Hither, then, I repaired from the vicar’s fields, where the sports had -been held, in the wake of a number of rustic couples and toffee-sucking -children. The school is a lofty room, fifty feet long, with a smaller -class-room as transept at the upper end, along which ran a temporary -platform. Upon this the Farringdon Blue-Ribbon Band, in neat uniforms, -were already playing a vigorous polka. Presently this first dance ended, -the band stood back, and the three judges coming to the front, announced -the terms of the competition, the men to begin, and a dance to be -interpolated after every two songs, every singer, one at a time, to come -up on the platform. There was no hesitation amongst the singers, the -first of whom stepped up at once, and so the matches went on, two songs -and a dance alternately, until all who cared to compete had sung. Then, -at about 9 P.M., the prizes were awarded, and I left, the dancing going -on merrily for another two hours. - -I was amused by the award of the men’s prize to the singer of a -vociferously applauded ditty, entitled “The Time o’ Day,” for it showed -that the keenest zest of the Wessex rustic is still, as it was -thirty years ago, to get a rise out of--or, in modern slang, to score -off--“thaay varmers.” It began:-- - - A straanger wunst in Worcestershèer, - - A gen’lman he professed, - - He lived by takin’ o’ people in, - - He wuz so nicely dressed. - - Wi’ my tol-de-rol, etc. - -This stranger, having a gold chain round his neck, swaggers in the -farmers’ room on market-day, till-- - - He zets un in a big arm-cheer, - - And, bein’ precious deep, - - Sticks out his legs, drows back his arms, - - And “gammots” off to sleep. - -The farmers canvas him, and doubt if he has any watch to his chain. His -friend, “by them not understood,” pulls out the chain, shows a piece of -wood at the end, and puts it back. The stranger wakes; the farmers ask -him “the time o’ day”; he excuses himself, on the plea that last night, -having taken a glass too much, he did not wind up his watch. At this-- - - The varmers said, and did protest, - - Ez sure ez we’re alive, - - Thet thee dost not possess a watch - - Of pounds we’ll bet thee vive. - -The stranger covers the bets, pulls out a piece of wood, touches a -spring, and shows a watch inside:-- - - ‘Bout vifty pounds thaay varmers lost, - - Which in course thaay hed to paay, - - And the bwoys run arter’em down the street, - - Wi’ “Gee us the time O’ daay.” - - Wi’ my tol-de-rol, etc. - -I did not, however, concur in the award myself. I should have given the -prize for a love-song, a sort of rustic rendering of “Phyllis is my only -Joy,” the chorus of which ran:-- - - For ef you would, I’m sure you could - - Jest let a feller know; - - Ef it strikes you as it likes you, - - Answer yes or no. - -The judges, however, followed, if (two being “varmers”) they did not -thoroughly sympathise with, the obvious feeling of the crowded room. -The patriotic songs, I noticed, had quite changed their character. They -never were of the vulgar jingo kind in Wessex, but there used to be much -of the old Dibdin and tow-row,-row ring about them. “The Poor Little -Soldier Boy” may be taken as a specimen of the new style. His father -dies of wounds; he ’lists; comes home; is discharged; wanders -starving, till, opposite a fine gate, he sinks down, asking the unknown -inmates how they will like to find him, “dead at their door in the -morn.” At this crisis a lady appears, who takes him in and provides for -him for life. The only lines I carried away were from a song even more -pacific in tone than “The Poor Little Soldier Boy.” They ran:-- - - Ef I wur King o’ France, - - Or, better, Pope o’ Rome, - - I’d hev no fightin’ men abroad, - - Nor weepin’ maids at home. - -But there was an approach to “waving the flag” amongst the women, one of -whom, a strapping damsel, sang:-- - - We’ve got the strength of will, - - And old England’s England still, - - And every other nation knows it--“rather”! - -which word “rather” ended every verse of a somewhat vulgar ditty. She -did not get the prize, nor did the matron whom I fixed on as the -winner, who sang without a hitch a monotonous and, I began to think, -never-ending ballad on the rivalries of “young Samuèl” and one -“Barnewell” for the graces of an undecided young woman. The attention -with which this somewhat dreary narrative was listened to deceived me, -for the prize went, without public protest, to a young woman of whose -song I could not catch a line, though I could just gather that it was -feebly sentimental. My impression is that it was her bright eyes, and -pretty face and figure, that carried it with the judges, rather than her -singing. If I am right, it will neither be the first nor last time that -the prizes in this world fall to _tes beaux yeux_. - -The school faces the upper end of the village green, and I left it so -crowded that it was a wonder how the dancers could get along at all -with their polkas and handkerchief dances, the latter a kind of country -dance, which were the only ones in vogue. When I got out, I saw lighted -booths at the other end of the green, and went down to inspect. It was a -melancholy sight. - -There was the publican’s dancing-booth without a soul in it. One swing -only was occupied in the neighbouring acrobatic apparatus, and the -round-about was motionless. The gipsies were there, ready and eager to -tell fortunes, and with a well-lighted alley for throwing at cocoa-nuts -with bowls rather larger than cricket-balls--the most modern and popular -substitute, I am told, for skittles. There they were, but not a customer -in sight, the only human being but myself being the solitary county -policeman, who patrolled the green with most conscientious regularity, -only slackening his pace for a moment or two as he passed under the -bright open windows of the schoolroom, from which the merry dance-music -came streaming out into the moonlight. I could almost find it in my -heart to pity the publican and gipsies, so overwhelming did their defeat -seem, for not a glass of beer had been allowed all day in the vicar’s -fields, where the cricket-match had been played and all the races -run, on milk, tea, or aerated waters. The whole stock of these last -beverages, supplied from the “Hope Coffee Room,” which has faced the -public-house on the village green now for about three years, was drunk -out before the dancing ended and the school closed on “veast” night, to -the exceeding joy of the vicar’s niece and her lieutenants, two bright -Cornish damsels, handy, devoted, and ardent teetotalers. These three -have been fighting the publicans since 1886, when they started the “Hope -Coffee Room,” supplied with bread, butter, and cakes from the vicarage, -and aerated drinks and light literature, all, I take it, at something -under cost price, though this the three ardent damsels will by no means -admit. The vicar, who is no teetotaler himself, shrugs his shoulders -laughingly, plays his fiddle, pays the bills, and lets them have their -own way, with an occasional protest that some night he shall have his -barn and ricks burnt. There is, however, no real danger of this, as he -has lived with and for his poor for more than thirty years with scarcely -one Sunday’s break, and gipsy or publican would get short shrift who -damaged him or anything that is his. I found him quite ready to admit -the great improvement which is apparent in the “veast,” as in many other -phases of rustic life, though he cannot get over, or look with anything -but dislike and distrust at, the cramming and examining system, which, -as he mourns, embitters the only time in the lives of his poor children -which used to be really happy, when they could play about on the village -green and in the lanes regardless of Inspector and Government grant. -Nor am I sure that he does not look with regret at the disappearance -of cudgel-playing and wrestling out of the programme of the yearly -“Veast-Sports.” Cricket, fine game as it is, does hot bring out quite -the same qualities. No doubt there were now and then bad hurts in those -sports, and fights afterwards; but these came from beer, and might -happen just as easily over cricket. So he muses, and I rather -sympathise. As has been well sung by the ould gamester:-- - - Who’s vor a bout O’ vrendly plaay, - - As never should to anger move, - - Sech spworts be only meant for thaay - - As likes their mazzards broke for love. - -But I should be sorry to believe that there are fewer youngsters to-day -in the West country who “likes their mazzards broke for love” than there -used to be half a century ago. - - - - -The Divining-Rod, 21st September 1889. - -About a quarter of a century ago, I had the chance of seeing some -experiments in the search for water by the use of “the divining rod” on -a thirsty stretch of the Berkshire chalk range. Oddly enough (what a lot -of odd things there are lying all round us!) at the highest points of -this very range you might come on “dew-ponds,” which never seemed to run -dry, though how the white chalky water got there, or kept there, no -one, I believe, has ever been able to explain from that day to this. But -these “dew-ponds” were of no use, of course, to the cottages scattered -along the hillside, and whoever wanted spring-water, had to go down -about 400 feet for it. Well, I neglected that chance, and ever since -have been regretting it. - -My notion of the water-diviner was gathered from Sir Walter’s famous -portrait of Dousterswivel in the _Antiquary_; a fellow “who amongst -fools and womankind talks of the Cabala, the divining-rod, and all the -trumpery with which the Rosicrucians cheated a darker age, and which, -to our eternal disgrace, has in some degree revived in our own.” I was -resolved that the revival should in no case be forwarded by me, and so -lost my opportunity, and have been ever since tantalised by reports of -marvels wrought by the hazel-wand, as to which I was quite at a loss -to form any reasonable opinion. It was with no little satisfaction, -therefore, that I received, and accepted, an invitation to assist at -a water-search about to be undertaken by a diviner of considerable -reputation in the outskirts of Deer Leap Wood, in the parish of Wootton, -Surrey. - -This wood, notable even amongst the loveliest of that favoured county, -belongs to the worthy representative of the author of _Sylva_ and the -_Memoirs_, who, having built some excellent cottages on its confines, -desires to find the occupants a good supply of spring-water _in situ_. -Accordingly a group of us, men and women of all ages, and of all -degrees of scepticism--for I doubt if there was a single believer in the -efficacy of the rod, though the squire himself and a friend preserved -a judicious silence--gathered last Friday after breakfast on the lawn -before Wootton House, to await the arrival of the water-doctor, whom the -agent had gone to meet at the station. It was agreed on all hands that a -preliminary test should be applied, and that the lawn on which we stood -offered quite admirable facilities for this purpose. For, more than two -hundred years ago, John Evelyn had diverted a portion of the stream, -which runs down the valley in which the house stands, for the purpose of -making a fountain on the terraces. (Let it be noted in passing, that the -lead-work of that fountain has needed no repair from that day to this! -There _were_ plumbers in those days!) From this fountain two pipes carry -the water into the house, under the lawn on which we stood. Now the lawn -turf is as smooth as a billiard-table, without the slightest indication -of the whereabouts of these pipes, which indeed was only known vaguely -to the squire, and not at all to any one else of those present. If the -divining-rod could discover these, the experiment at “Deer Leap Wood” - might be undertaken with good hope. - -Well, the doctor, conducted by the steward, arrived in due course, a -stout middle-aged man, of the stamp of a high-class mechanic; plain and -straightforward in speech, and with no pretence whatever to mystery. In -answer to our questions, he said: “He couldn’t tell how it came about; -but of this he was sure, that he could find springs and running water. -Thirty years ago he was working as a mason at Chippenham, with a Cornish -miner amongst others. He saw this man find water with the rod; had then -tried it himself, and found he could do it. That was all he knew. Any -one*of us might have the same power. Why, two young gentlemen who saw -him working at Warleigh, near Bath, had copied him, and found a spring -right under their father’s library.” We listened, and then proposed that -he should just try about the lawn. He produced a hazel twig shaped like -a Y, the arms, each some eighteen inches long; the point, perhaps, -six inches. I may note, however, that the dimensions can be of no -consequence, for he used at least half a dozen in his trials, cutting -them at random out of the hazel-bush as we walked along, and taking -no measure of any of them. Taking an arm of the Y between the middle -fingers of each hand, he walked across the lawn slowly, stooping -slightly forward, so as to keep the point downwards, about a foot from -the ground. He had not gone a dozen yards before the rod quivered, and -then the point rose at once straight up into the air. “There’s running -water here,” he said, “and close to the surface.” We marked the spot -and followed him, and some twenty-five yards further the point of the -Y again sprang up into the air. The steward, who knew the plans -accurately, was appealed to, and admitted that these were the precise -spots under which the pipes ran. In answer to the suggestion that the -point sprang up by pressure of his fingers, voluntary or involuntary, he -asked two of us to hold the arms beyond his fingers, and see if we could -prevent the point rising. We did so (I being one), and did all we could -to keep it pointed downwards, but it rose in spite of us, and I watched -his hands carefully at the same time and could detect no movement -whatever of the muscles. Then he broke one of the arms, all but the -bark, and still the point rose as briskly as ever. Lastly, he proposed -that each of us should try if we had the power. We did so, but without -success, except that in the case of Mrs. Evelyn and another lady the -point trembled, and seemed inclined, though unable, to rise. He then -took hold of their wrists, and at once it rose, nearly as promptly as -it had done with him. This was enough; and we started in procession, on -ponies, in carriage^, or walking, to Deer Leap Wood, where in the -course of an hour he marked with pegs some half dozen spots, under which -running water will be found at from 70 feet to 100 feet. He did not -pretend to be able to give the exact depth, but only undertook to give -the outside limits. And so we all went back to lunch, and Mullins -took his fee and departed. I know, sir, that you have many scientific -readers, and can picture to myself the smile tinged with scorn with -which they will turn to your next page when they get thus far. Well, I -own that the boring remains to be done, the results of which I hope to -send you in due course. Meantime, let me remind them of a well-known -adventure of one of the most famous of their predecessors towards the -end of last century. Sir Joseph Banks, botanising on the downs on a -cloudless June day, came across a shepherd whom he greeted with the -customary “Fine day,”--“Ees,” was the reply, “but there’ll be heavy rain -yet, afore night.” Sir Joseph passed on unheeding, and got a thorough -drenching before he reached his inn. Next morning he went back, found -the shepherd, and put a guinea in his hand, with “Now, my man, tell me -how you knew there was going to be rain yesterday afternoon.” - -“Whoy,” said Hodge, with a grin, “I zeed my ould ram a shovin’ hisself -back’ards in under thuck girt thornin bush; and wenever a doos that -there’ll sartin sure be heavy rainfall afore sundown.” - -Note.--Water was found where it was expected by the Diviner, and this -well is now used by the tenants of the Deer Leap Cottages.--October -1895. - - - - -Sequah’s “Flower of the Prairie,” Chester, 26th March 1890. - -“Why, what on earth can this be?” I asked of the man who stood next me -in the Foregate some ten days ago, as we paused at a crossing to allow -the strange object which had drawn from me the above ejaculation to pass -on, with its attendant crowd. It was a mighty gilded waggon, certainly -fourteen feet long by six feet or seven feet broad. It was drawn by four -handsome bays. On two raised seats at the front sat eight men, English, -I fancy, every man of them, but clad over their ordinary garments in -long leather coats with fringes, such as our familiar Indians wear in -melodrama, and in the broad-brimmed, soft felts of the Western cowboy. -They were all armed with brass instruments and made the old streets -resound with popular airs. Behind these raised seats, in the body of -the waggon, rode some half dozen, including three strapping brown men, -Indians, I fancy they pose for, but they looked to me more like the -half-castes whom one sees on the Texan and Mexican ranches on the Bio -Grande. They also were clad in fringed leather coats, and wore sombreros -over their long black locks. The sides of the waggon, where not gilt, -were panelled with mirrors, on which were emblazoned the Stars and -Stripes and other coloured devices. Altogether, the thing seemed to me -well done in its way, whatever it might mean; and I turned inquiringly -to my neighbour and repeated my question, as the huge gilded van and -its jubilant followers passed away down the station road. “Oh! ’tis the -‘Merikin chap, as cures folks’s rheumatics and draws their teeth.” - -“He must draw something more than their teeth,” I said, “to keep up all -that show.” My neighbour grinned assent. “He’ve drawed pretty nigh all -the loose money as is going hereabouts already,” he said as we parted. -“One more quack to fleece the poor,” I thought, as I walked on. “Well, -anyhow, they get a show for their shillings; that van beats Barnum!” - -In this mind I reached the vicarage of one of our biggest city parishes -to which I was bound. “I don’t know about quack,” said the vicar, when -I had detailed my adventure on the way, using that disparaging phrase; -“but this I do know, that I have given over writing certificates for -my poor from downright shame, the demand is so great.” And then he -explained that the “medicineman,” whose stage name was Sequah, made no -charge to any patient who brought a clergyman’s certificate of poverty; -that the van had now been in the town above a week; and at first he, -the vicar, had given such certificates freely, both for treatment -(tooth-drawing) and for the medicines, but now refused except in the -case of the very poorest. No! not because Sequah was an impostor; on the -contrary, he had done several noteworthy cures--at any rate temporary -cures--on some of the vicar’s own parishioners: notably in the case of -one old man who had been drawn up to the van in a wheel-chair. He had -had rheumatism for two years, which had quite disabled him, and was in -great pain when he got on the platform. After he had been treated he -walked down the steps without help, and wheeled his chair home himself. -Unluckily, Sequah had advised him to get warm woollen underclothing, -and on his pleading that he had not the money to buy it, had given him -a sovereign. This so elated him that he felt quite a new man, and could -not help breaking his sovereign on the way home to give the new man a -congratulatory glass at a favourite pot-house. This had thrown him back, -and his knees were a little stiff again, but the pain had not returned -even in this case. - -After such testimony from a thoroughly trustworthy and matter-of-fact -witness, I resolved to see this strange thing with my own eyes, and -went off straight from the vicarage to the scene of action, to which -the vicar directed me. This was an old tan-yard about half an acre in -extent, and was full of people when I arrived, the space immediately -round the waggon being densely crowded. It was drawn up in the middle of -the plot. The eight brass-bandsmen had wheeled round so as to look down -from their raised benches on the floor of the waggon, on which was a -large leather chair. In front of the chair, speaking to the crowd -from the end of the waggon, stood a tall figure, in a finer kind of -leather-fringed coat, ornamented with rows of blue, red, and white -beads. At first glance I thought it was a woman from the fineness of -the features, and masses of long, light hair falling on the shoulders. A -second glance, however, showed me that it was a man, and a vigorous and -muscular one too. He was explaining that the medicines he was going -to sell presently were not “scientific,” but “natural” medicines, -“compounded of the water of a Californian spring and certain botanic -ingredients”! I will not trouble you with a list of all the ailments -they will cure if taken steadily and in sufficient doses, but get on -at once to the performance. Having finished his speech, he put on his -sombrero, took up a pair of forceps from a table on which a row of -them were displayed, and stood by the chair. Upon this, advanced an -apparently endless line of men, women, and children, marshalled by the -Indians who stood at the foot of the steps. One by one they came up, sat -down in the chair, passed under Sequah’s hands, and descended the steps -on the other side of the waggon into the wondering crowd, while the band -discoursed vigorous and continuous music. I watched him draw at least -fifty teeth in less than as many minutes. The patient just sat down, -opened his mouth, pointed to the peccant tooth, and it was out in most -cases before he could wink. There were perhaps three or four cases (of -adults) in which things did not go quite so smoothly, and one--that of a -young woman, who seized her bonnet and rushed down the steps in evident -pain and rage--after which he stopped the band, and explained to us that -her tooth was so decayed that he had had to break the stump in the jaw. -This he had done, and should have taken the pieces out without causing -any further pain, if she had just waited a few more seconds. There are -rumours flying round that the infirmary is crowded daily with patients -in agonies from broken fangs which have been left in by Sequah. On the -other hand, two of our doctors whom I have met admit that he is a very -remarkable “extractor,” and has first-rate instruments. - -There were still crowds waiting their turn when he finished his -tooth-drawing for the day, and announced that he would now treat a case -of rheumatism. Thereupon, an elderly man--who gave his name and address, -and stated that he had been rheumatic for twelve years, unable to walk -for two, and was now in great pain--was carried up the steps and put in -the chair. Then buffalo-robes were brought by the Indians, two of -whom held them up so as to conceal Sequah and the third, a rubber, -who remained inside with the patient. Then the brass band struck up -boisterously, the buffalo-robe screen was agitated here and there, and a -strong and very pungent smell (not unlike hartshorn) spread all round. -I timed them, and at the end of eighteen minutes the buffalo-robes -were lowered, and there was the old man dressed again and seated in the -chair. The band stopped. Sequah asked the old man if he felt any pain -now. He replied, “No,” and then was told to walk to the front of the -platform, which he did; then to get down the ladder, walk round the -waggon amongst the crowd, and come up on the other side, which he did, -looking, I must say, as astonished as I was, at his own performance. -Then six or seven men, mostly elderly, came up and declared that they -had been similarly treated, and were wonderfully better, some of them -quite cured and at work again. Then Sequah invited any person who had -been treated by him or taken his medicines and were none the better, to -come up into the waggon and tell us about it, as that was their proper -place and not below. This offer seemed quite _bona fide_, but it did -not impress me, as I doubt whether any protesting patient would have had -much chance of ascending the steps, which were kept by the Indians and -their able-bodied confederates. No one answering, two big portmanteaus -were brought up, out of which he began to sell his medicines at a dollar -(4s.) the set--two bottles and two small packets. The rush to be served -began, people crushing and struggling to get near enough to hand up -their hats or caps with 4s. in them, which were returned with the -medicines in them. I watched for at least ten minutes, when, there -being apparently no end to the purchases, I strolled away, musing on the -strange scene, and wondering what the attraction can be in the Bohemian -life which could induce a man of this evident power to wander about -the world in a gilded waggon, in a ridiculous costume, and talking -transparent clap-trap, to sell goods which apparently want no lies -telling about them. - -I may add that I went again last Saturday, when there was even a greater -crowd, and an older and more severe case of rheumatism was treated with -quite as great (apparent) success. - - - - -French Popular Feeling, 15th August 1890. - -I doubt if any of your readers has less sympathy than I with the -yearning to go back twenty, thirty, or forty years (as the case may be), -which seems to be a note of contemporary literature, and therefore, I -take it, of the average mind of the men and women of our day, who have -passed out of their first youth. “The Elixir of Life,” which Bulwer -dreamed and wrote of, which should restore youth, with its bounding -pulses and golden locks, its capacity for physical enjoyment, and for -building castles in Spain, I think I may say with confidence I would -not drink four times a day, with twenty minutes’ promenade between the -glasses (as I am just now drinking of the _source Cosar_ here), even -if an _elixir vito source_ were to come bubbling up to-morrow in this -enchanting Auvergne valley, and our English doctor here at Royat--known -to all readers of Mr. _Punch’s_ “Water Course”--were to put it -peremptorily on my treatment-paper to-morrow morning. It is not surely -the “_good fellows_ whose beards are gray,” who sigh over the departure -of muscular force, and sure quickness of eye and nerve, which enabled -them in years gone by to jump five-barred gates or get down to -leg-shooters. They are glad to see the boys doing these things, and -rejoicing in them; but, for themselves, do not desire any more to jump -five-barred gates or get down to leg-shooters. They have learned the -wise man’s lesson, that there is a time for all things, and that -those who linger on life’s journey and fancy they can still occupy the -pleasant roadside places after their part of the column has passed on -ahead, will surely find themselves in the way of, and be shouldered out -by, the next division, without a chance of being able to regain their -place in the line, side by side with old comrades and contemporaries. - -But it is one thing to fall out of the line of march of one’s own -accord, from an unwise hankering after roadside pleasures, and quite -another to have to fall out because one can no longer keep one’s old -place in the column by reason of failing wind, or muscle, or nerve; -and the man of sense who feels his back stiffening, or his feet getting -tender, will do well to listen to such hints betimes, and betake himself -at once to whatever place or regimen holds out the best hope of enabling -him to keep step once more, till the day is fairly over and the march -done. It is for this reason, at any rate, that I find myself at Royat, -from which I have been assured by more than one trustworthy friend who -has tested the waters, that I shall return after three weeks “with new -tissues,” and “fit to fight for my life.” I don’t see any prospect -of having to fight for my life in my old age, though one can’t be too -confident with the new Radicalism looming up so menacingly, and am very -well content with my old tissues, if they can’ only be got into fair -working order again, of which I already begin to think there is good -prospect here, though my experience of the _sources_ “Eugénie” and -“Cæsar” is as yet not a week old. - -It is more than twenty years since I have written to you from France -over this signature, and since that time I have only been once in Paris, -for two days on business. The gay city is much less changed than I -expected to find it, so far as one can judge from a drive across it from -the Gare de l’Ouest to the Gare de Lyon, and a stroll (after depositing -luggage at the latter station) along the Rue de Rivoli and the Quais, -and through the streets of the old city. The clearance which has left -an open space in front of Notre Dame, so that one can get a good view -of the western front, seemed to me the most noteworthy improvement. The -great range of public buildings and offices which have been added to -the Louvre are stately and impressive, but cannot make up for -the disappearance of the Tuileries. The Eiffel Tower is a great -disappointment. All buildings should be either beautiful or useful; but -it is neither, and only seems to dwarf all the other buildings. But one -change impressed me grievously. Where are all the daintily dressed women -and children gone to? Perhaps the world of fashion may be out of town; -but there must be some two millions of people left in Paris, a quarter -of them at least well-to-do citizens, and able to give as much care as of -old to their toilets. Nevertheless, I assure you, I sought in vain for -one really dainty figure such as one used to meet by the score in every -street. Can twenty years of the true Republic have made La Belle France -dowdy? It is grievous to think of it, and I hope to be undeceived before -I get back amongst the certainly better got-up women of my native land. - -For my nine hours’ journey south, I bought a handful of the cheap -illustrated papers--_Le Grelot, Le Troupier_, and others--which seem to -be as much the daily intellectual fare of the French travelling public -as (I regret to say) _Tit-Bits_ and its congeners are, at any rate in -my part of England. Of course it is always difficult to know what “the -people” are thinking or caring about; but to get at what they read must -be not a bad test. A perusal of these certainly surprised me favourably, -especially in this respect, that they were almost entirely free from -the pruriency which is so generally supposed to be the characteristic of -modern French literature. - -I wish I could speak half as favourably of the attitude of France, so -far as these journals disclose it, towards her neighbours; but this is -about as bad as it can be, touchy, jealous, and unfair, all round. Take, -for instance, the _Troupier_, which is specially addressed to the -Army. The cartoon represents the “Grand Jeu de Massacre,” at which all -passers-by are invited to join free of charge. The _jeu_ consists of -throwing at a row of puppets, citizens of Alsace-Lorraine, in which -a brutal German soldier is indulging, while the French “Ministre -des Affaires (qui lui sont) Etrangères” slumbers peacefully on a -neighbouring seat. But we come off at least as badly as Germany. In -a vigorous leader, entitled “Une Reculade,” on the Zanzibar Question, -after a very bitter opening against England--“il n’y a guère de pays qui -n’ait été roulé dupé et volé par elle,”--the _Troupier_ breaks into a -song of triumph over the backing-down of England, “flanquée d’Allemagne -et de ses alliés,” before the resolute attitude of France. “Cette -reculade,” it ends, “de nos ennemis indique suffisamment que La France a -repris la place et le rang qui lui conviennent, et qu’elle est de -taille à se faire respecter partout et par tous. C’est tout ce que nous -desirions.” In all commercial and industrial matters we are equally -grasping and unscrupulous. There seems to be just now a great stir -in the sardine industry, and, so far as I can make out, English and -American Companies seem to be competing for a monopoly of that savoury -little fish. It is, however, upon the English “Sardine Union Company, -Limited”--“qui s’appelle en France, Société Générale de l’Industrie -Sardinière de France”--that the vials of journalistic wrath are being -emptied. “Sept polichinelles,” it would seem, have subscribed for one -share each, and the whole scheme is utterly rotten. Nevertheless, this -bogus Company threatens to buy up all the sardine manufactories -in France at fancy prices, and, the control being in England, -will manufacture there all the metal boxes, and will build all the -fishing-boats over there, “au détriment de nos constructeurs Français,” - and so on, and so on. I was getting quite melancholy over all these -onslaughts on my native country, when I came upon a topic which -alone seems to excite the petit-journaliste more than the sins of the -long-toothed Englishman--viz. those of priests and their followers and -surroundings. Here is a comic example, over which the Grelot foams -in trenchant and sarcastic but incredibly angry sentences. A Belgian -Council has decided to divide the 500 fr. which it has voted to the -“Institut Pasteur,” the vote being “pour M. Pasteur et pour St. Hubert.” - This remarkable vote was carried on the pleading of a Deputy, who, after -paying homage to M. Pasteur, added: “C’est un grand homme qui a opéré -des cures merveilleuses; seulement il y a un autre grand homme, qui -depuis onze cent soixante-trois années a opéré des miracles, c’est St. -Hubert--M. Pasteur devra travailler longtemps avant d’en arriver là.” - I am afraid you will have no room for more than one of the scathing -sentences in which the writer tosses this unlucky vote backwards and -forwards: “M. Pasteur acceptera-t-il de partager les 500 fr. avec St. -Hubert (adresse inconnue), ou St. Hubert refusera-t-il de partager avec -M. Pasteur (adresse connue)?--‘That is the question/ comme disait le -nommé Shakespeare.” - -It was in the midst of such instructive if not entirely pleasant -reading, that I arrived at Clermont, the old capital of Auvergne, by far -the most interesting town I have been in this quarter of a century, -not excepting Chester. From thence, one comes up to Roy at, about three -miles, in an electric tramway, or by ’bus or cab. - - - - -Royat les Bains, 23rd August 1890. - -Some thirty years ago, more or less, I remember reading with much -incredulous amusement Sir Francis Head’s “Bubbles of the Brunnen.” - It was in the early days of the Saturday Review, when the infidel -Talleyrand gospel of surtout jooint de zèle was being preached to young -England week by week in those able but depressing columns. I, like the -rest of my contemporaries, was more or less affected by the cold water -virus, and was certainly inclined to look from the superior person -standpoint on what I could not but regard as the outpourings of the -second childhood of an eccentric septuagenarian, who was really asking -us to believe that the Schwalbach waters were as miraculously potent as -the thigh-bone of St. Glengulphus, of which is it not written in _The -In-goldsby Legends_:-- - - And cripples, on touching his fractured _os femoris_, - - Threw down their crutches and danced a quadrille. - -I need scarcely say to you, sir, that it is many years since I have been -thoroughly disabused of this depressing heresy; but perhaps one never -quite recovers from such early demoralisation. At any rate, now that I -find myself approaching Sir Francis’s age, and much in his frame of mind -when he blew his exhilarating bubbles, I can’t quite make up my mind to -turn myself loose, as he did, and in Lowell’s words, “pour out my hope, -my fear, my love, my wonder,” upon you and your readers. The real fact, -however, stated in plain (Yankee) prose is, that Schwalbach (I have been -there) “is not a circumstance” to this refuge for the victim of gout, -rheumatism, eczema, dyspepsia, and I know not how many more kindred -maladies, amongst the burnt-out volcanoes of the Department Puy-de-Dome. -Nevertheless, you may fairly say, and I should agree, that my ten days’ -experience of the effect of the waters is scarcely sufficient to make -me a trustworthy witness as to the healing properties of these springs. -Twenty-one days is the prescribed course, and as I am as yet but half -through, I will not “holloa till I am out of the wood,” but will try in -the first place to give you some idea of this Royat les Bains and its -surroundings. - -Let us look out from this third-floor window at which I am writing, on -the highest guest-floor of the topmost hotel in Royat, to which a happy -chance (or my good angel, if I have one) led me on my arrival. I look -out across a narrow valley, from three to four hundred yards wide, upon -a steep hill which forms its opposite side. They say this hill is a -burnt-out volcano. However that may be, it is now clothed with vineyards -on all but the almost precipitous places where the rock peeps out. On -the highest point, against the sky-line, stands out a small white house, -calling itself the Hôtel de l’Observatoire, from which there must be a -magnificent view; but how it is to be reached I have not yet learned, -for there is no visible road or footpath, and the peasants object to -one’s attempting the ascent through the vineyards. The valley winds up -round this hill, taking a turn to the north, our side widening out and -sweeping back behind Royat Church and village, to which the retreating -hill behind forms a most picturesque background. For, on the lower -slope, just above the houses, are stretches of bright green meadow, -interspersed amongst irregular clumps of oak; above this comes a -brown-red belt of rough ground, growing heather and wild strawberries; -and, again above that, all along the brow, are dense pine woods. The -constant changes of colour which this southern sun brings out all day -long on this hillside make it difficult to break away from one’s window -and descend to the _établissement_ to drink waters and take baths. -This institution lies down at the bottom of the valley I have been -describing, some 200 feet below this window, and 150 feet below the -broad terrace which is thrown out from the ground-floor of this hotel. -From the terrace a rough zigzag path leads down to the brook, which -rushes down from Royat village in a succession of tiny waterfalls, -sending up to us all day the murmur of running water. On reaching the -brook’s bank, we have about one hundred yards to walk by its side, when, -crossing a good road which runs round it, we reach the low wall of -the park, in which lies the bathing establishment. From this point the -electric tram-cars run to Clermont, carrying backwards and forwards -for two sous baigneurs and holiday-folk enough, I should say, to pay -handsome dividends. This park occupies the whole breadth of the valley, -pushing back the houses on either side against the hillsides. Its main -building, a handsome structure, built of lava, with red-tiled roof, -contains all the separate baths and a _piscine_, or swimming bath, -besides a good-sized hall for sanitary gymnastics, and a _salle -d’escrime_, in which a professor instructs pupils daily in fencing and -_le boxe_. The broad path runs from top to bottom of this park, having -this _établissement_ building on its left or northern side, and on its -right two parallel terraces, one above the other. On the lower of -these is the great _source_, the “Eugénie,” which bubbles up here in -magnificent style, sending up some millions of gallons daily. Over the -Eugénie _source_ is a pavilion, with open sides and striped red and -white curtains. A second pavilion on the same terrace, a little lower -down, is devoted to the band, which plays every afternoon for two or -three hours; and below that again, the casino. On the second or upper -terrace are a few favoured _châlet_ shops, for the sale of books, -pictures, photographs, and the pottery and _bijouterie_ of Auvergne. -Then, above again, comes the road which encloses the park, on the -opposite side of which are the row of large hotels built against the -rocky side of the valley, and communicating at the back from their upper -stories with the road which runs up to Royat village. The rest of the -park is laid out in lawns and garden-beds, full of bright flowers and -walks, amongst which are found three other sources--the Cæsar, the St. -Mart, and the St. Victor, each of which has its small drinking-pavilion. -In front of these several pavilions and along the terraces are a -plentiful supply of seats, and chairs which you can carry about to any -spot you may select under the shade of the plane-trees and acacias -which line the terraces and walks, with weeping-willows, chestnuts, and -poplars happily interspersed here and there. The abundant water-supply -which the brook brings down is well utilised, so that the whole -park, some six acres in extent, is kept as fresh and green, and the -flower-beds as luxuriant and bright with colour, as if it were in dear, -damp England. At the bottom of the park, a handsome viaduct of arches, -built of lava, spans the valley, seeming to shut Royat in from the -outer world, and beyond, the valley broadens out into a wide plain, with -Clermont, the capital of Auvergne, in the foreground, and beyond the -city, stretching right away to Switzerland, a splendid sea (as it were) -of corn and maize and vines and olives, the richest, it is said, in the -whole of _la belle_ France. It is stated in all the guidebooks, and by -trustworthy residents, that on a clear day you may see Mont Blanc from -Royat, but as yet I have not been lucky enough. - -Unless I have failed altogether in describing the view which lies -constantly before me--from the pine-clad hillside over Royat village, -with its gray church and white red-roofed houses to the west, away down -over the park and surrounding hotels and shops, and viaduct and city and -plain to the far east--you can now fancy what it must be in the early -morning, when the light mist is lying along the hillsides until the sun -has had time to dispose of the clouds in the upper air, or at night, -when the clear sky is thick with stars, and the Northern Lights flame up -behind the silent volcano opposite this Hôtel de Lyon. There is no place -on earth, from the back-slums of great cities to the mountain-peak -or mid-ocean, to which early morns and evening twilights do not bring -daily, or almost daily, some touch of the beauty of light-pictures which -sun and moon and stars paint for us so patiently, whether we heed them -or no; but to get them in their full perfection, one should be able -to look at them in the light, dry, warm air of such places as these -volcanic highlands of Auvergne. - -And now for the life we lead in this air and scenery. Every morning -at six I arrive at the Cæsar spring and drink two glasses, with twenty -minutes’ interval between them. Then I climb the hill to _café au lait_ -and two small rolls and butter on the terrace, which comes off about -7 A.M., as soon as the last of our party of four has come up from the -park. Rest till eleven follows, when we have _déjeûner à la fourchette_, -which, as we sit down about a hundred, lasts for an hour. In the -afternoon I drink two glasses at the St. Mart spring, and between them -have twenty minutes in the _piscine_, which is my great treat of -the day. Going punctually at two, when the ladies surrender this -swimming-bath to the men, I almost always get it to myself, and enjoy -it as I used to do years ago, when my blood was warm enough, lying about -amongst the waves on the English coast, and letting them just tumble -and toss me about as they would. This water comes warm from the Eugénie -spring daily, and is so buoyant that one can lie perfectly still on the -top of it with one’s hands behind one’s head; and if there were no roof -to the _piscine_, and one could only look straight up all the time into -the deep-blue sky, twice as high, so it looks, as ours in England, the -physical enjoyment would be perfect. It is not far from that as it is, -and I thoroughly sympathise with Browning’s Amphibian:-- - - From worldly noise and dust, - - In the sphere which overbrims - - With passion and thought--why, just - - Unable to fly, one swims. - - - - -Royat les Bains, 30th August 1890. - -I suppose there never was a garden since Eden (unless, perhaps, in the -early days of the Jesuit settlements in the Paraguay) in which the devil -has not had a tree or a corner somewhere; and it would be well for us -all if he were no more in evidence in other health and holiday resorts -than he is here in the _parc_. His booth is at the end of the middle -terrace, a small pavilion, well shaded by tall acacias, in which in the -afternoons you can risk a franc, occasionally two, every minute on the -_course des petits chevaux_. The _course_ is a round table, with eight -or ten concentric grooves, in each of which a small horse and jockey -runs. Outside this _course_, with room for a page-boy to move round -between the two, there is a slight railing with a flat top, at which -the players sit round and post their stakes. These are collected by the -page, who lets each player draw a number in exchange for the francs. As -soon as he has made his circuit, the croupier gives a turn to a handle -which works the machinery. The first turn brings all the horses into -line, and the next starts them round the course, each in his own groove. -After another turn or two, the croupier lets go the handle, and the -puppets begin to scatter, the winner being the one which passes the post -last before the machine stops, and they all come to a standstill. - -Then the croupier calls out the winning number, and the owner gets -all the stakes, except one, which goes to the table. Beyond this, the -Company has no interest whatever, so it is said. Of course one looks -with jealousy at every such game of chance, and I was inclined to think -at first that the croupier was in league with two women, one spectacled, -who sat steadily at one end of the players, playing in partnership, and -seeming to win oftener than any of the others; but the longer I watched, -the weaker grew my suspicions. Most of the players, by the way, are -women, though there are a few men who come and sit for hours, playing -and smoking cigarettes. Besides the sitters many strollers come -up, stake their francs for a course or two, and then move on, not -unfrequently with a handful of silver. On the whole, if play is to be -allowed at all, it can scarcely take a more harmless form, if only the -good-natured French papa could be kept from letting his children play -for him. He comes up with a child of ten or twelve years, lets them sit -down, and supplies them from behind with the necessary francs, and after -a round or two the little faces flush and hands shake, especially if -they be girls, in a way which is painful to see. A child gambling is -as sad a sight, for every one but the devil and his elect, as this old -world can show. - -Next to the _courses des petits chevaux_, at some thirty yards’ -distance, comes the large pavilion in which the excellent band sit and -play for an hour in the forenoon and afternoon, and again at 8 P.M. -Round the pavilion is a broad space, gravelled and well shaded, -and furnished with chairs which are occupied all the afternoon by -_baigneurs_ and visitors, mostly in family groups, the women knitting -or sewing, and the children playing about in the intervals of the music, -and before and after the regular concerts. Occasionally they have a _bal -d’enfants_ in this space, controlled by a master of the ceremonies, a -dancing-, master, I am told. Under him the children, boys and girls of -thirteen or fourteen, down to little trots who can scarcely toddle, may -enjoy polkas, galops, and the _taran-tole des postilions_, as well as -the gravel allows; and now and again comes a _défilé_, in which, in -couples carefully graduated according to size and age, the children -march round the walks, and in and out amongst the approving sitters. A -very pretty, and to me rather a curious sight, as I much doubt if the -English boy could be induced to perform such a march, even in the hope -of small packets of bonbons at the end, which are distributed to the -best performers. - -The big orchestral platform in this pavilion is often occupied, when the -band is not playing, by itinerant performers, who (I suppose) hire it -from the Company in the hope of getting a few francs out of the sitting -and circulating crowd. The performances are poor, so far as I have seen, -though one conjurer certainly played a trick which entirely beat me at -the time, and for which I am still quite unable to account. He produced -what he called a _garotte_, made of two stout planks which shut one upon -another (like our old stocks), and in which was a central hole for the -neck, and two smaller ones for the wrists. This garotte he handed round, -and though I did not get hold of it, I inspected it in the hands of a -youth who was standing just in front of me, and satisfied myself that -the planks were solid wood. Then he placed it on a stand, and called -up a stout damsel in the flesh-coloured tights which seem to be _de -rigueur_ for all female performers, who knelt down and laid her neck in -the big hole, and a wrist in each of the smaller ones. The conjurer then -let down the upper plank upon her, and having borrowed a signet ring -from an elderly _décoré_ Frenchman who was sitting near the platform, -proceeded to encircle the two planks with strips of stout paper or tape, -which he sealed with the ring. Then he held up a screen for the space -of twenty seconds, and on lowering it the damsel was posturing in her -tights, while the _garotte_ remained _in situ_, with the tapes still -there and the seals unbroken. By what trick she got her head and hands -out I was utterly unable to guess, and strolled away with the rather -provoking sense of having been fooled through my eyes. I hope a green -parrot who flew down and sat on the railing close to the _garotte_, with -his head wisely on one side, flew off better satisfied. - -Below, on the lowest terrace, at the end of the _établissement_ -buildings, is the _salle d’escrime_, which is open daily in the -afternoons, when you may see through the big windows the “Maître -d’Escrime, Professeur de S.A.R. le Prince des Galles,” sitting ready -to instruct pupils, or, so it seemed, to try a friendly bout with all -comers. The former were generally too much of mere beginners to make any -show worth seeing, but on one day an awkward customer turned up who ran -the professor, so far as I could judge, very hard. Indeed, I am by no -means sure that he acknowledged several shrewd hits, but my knowledge -of fencing is too small to make my judgment worth much. Le boxe is also -announced to go on here, but I have never seen the gloves put on yet. -Indeed, I much doubt whether young Frenchmen really like having their -heads punched for love. It is an eccentricity which does not seem to -spread out of the British Isles. There was a tempting _assaut d’armes_ -last Sunday, presided over by General Paquette, at which eleven _maîtres -d’escrime_ of regiments in this department, and one professor from Paris -were to fence. I was sorely tempted to go, but as the thermometer stood -at 80° in the shade, and so reinforced my insular prejudices as to the -day, abstained. - -Again, beyond the Casino, on the upper terrace, is a good croquet-ground -on the broad gravel space at the lower end of the _parc_. I should think -it a difficult ground to play on, but as a rule the French boys are -decidedly good players, and seem to enjoy the game thoroughly, and to -get round the hoops quicker than any of ours could do on a lawn like -a billiard-table. The Casino, besides a restaurant and reading-room, -contains a theatre, at which there are performances five nights in -the week, and generally a ball on the off-nights. These are often -fancy-balls, and always, I hear, very lively; but I cannot speak from -experience, never having as yet descended either to them or to the plays -and operettas. When one can sit out on a terrace and see the lights -coming out in the valley, and the Milky Way and all the stars in the -heaven shining as they only do down South, even the artists of the -Théâtre Français, and the other theatrical stars who visit the Casino -in the season, cannot get me indoors o’ nights, even at Casino prices. -These are very reasonable, the _abonnement_ for a seat being only 1 -franc a night, or 2 francs for a _fauteuil_. Your readers may perhaps be -able to judge of the kind of entertainment given by a specimen. To-night -there are two operettas,--_Violonnaux_, music by Offenbach; and _Les -Charbonneurs_, music by G. Coste. I own I never heard of either of the -pieces. - -I think, sir, you will allow that there are attractions enough of all -kinds provided by the Compagnie Anonyme des Eaux Minérales de Royat, who -own the _parc_ and run the business. They can well afford it, as every -visitor pays 10 francs as an _abonnement_ for drinking the waters, and -the charges for baths are high, e.g. 2.50 francs for a separate bath, -and 2 francs for the swimming-bath, decidedly more than any of our -English watering-places, not excepting Bath; but one has so much more -fun, if one wants it, for the money. And then there is this immense -thing to be said for this Royat Company,--their park is entirely free -and open to any one who cares to walk through it. I have seen scores of -peasants in blouses, and their wives, sitting about during the concerts, -not on the same terrace with the band, where a sou is charged for -chairs, but near enough to hear the music perfectly; and one meets them -all about the garden, walking and chatting amongst the--I was going to -write “well dressed,” but that they are not, but eminently respectable, -if rather dowdy--crowds of bathers and visitors. I do not, of course, -mean that there are no exceptions, either in the case of dowdiness or -respectability, but they are rare enough to prove the rule. On the other -hand, the number of religious of both sexes is remarkable who come to -use the waters, principally for throat ailments. Sisters of several -kinds, some wearing black hoods with white breastplates, others in large -white head-dresses, with long flaps, like a bird’s wings, which flap as -they walk, are frequent in the early mornings and other quiet times; and -besides the regular clergy, there are three monkish orders represented. -Of these the most striking are two Franciscans, I believe, clad in -rough, ruddy-brown flannel gowns, reaching to the ground, with large -rosaries hanging before and cowls behind, and girt with knotted ropes. -Peter the Hermit preached the First Crusade in the neighbouring Church -of St. Mary of the port at Clermont, assisted doubtless by many a friar -clad precisely as these are, except that the modern monk or friar (as -I was disappointed to note, at any rate in one case) does not go -bare-footed, or even in sandals, but in substantial shoes and trousers! -I was much struck by the quiet, patient, and reverent expression on -all the faces, very different from what I remember in past years. -Persecution may very well account, however, for this. There is no -branch, I take it, of the Church Universal which does not thrive under -it, in the best sense. - - - - -Auvergne en Fête, 6th September 1890. - -These good folk of Auvergne seem to get much more fun, or at least much -more play, out of life than we do; at any rate, they have been twice _en -fête_ in the three weeks we have been here. I suppose it is because we -have in this business cut down our saints till we have only St. Lubbock -left, with his quarterly holiday, while they, more wisely, have stuck to -the old calendar. But it seems all wrong that they, who get five times -as much sun as we, should also get three or four times as many holidays; -for sunshine is surely of itself a sort of equivalent for a holiday. -Perhaps, however, if we had lots of it, the national “doggedness as does -it” might wear out. That valuable, but unpleasant characteristic could -scarcely have leavened a nation living in a genial climate; but, with -about half Africa on our hands, in addition to Ireland and other trifles -all round the world, the coming generation will need the “dogged as does -it” even more than their fathers. So let us sing with Charles Kingsley, -“Hail to thee, North-Easter,” or with the old Wiltshire shepherd, -claim that the weather in England must be, anyhow, “sech as plaazes God -A’mighty, and wut plaazes He plaazes I.” - -Determined to see all the fun of the fair, a friend and I started for -Clermont from Royat by the electric tramway, and reached the Place de -Jaude in a few minutes--the “Forum Clermontois,” as it is called in -the local guidebooks--the largest open space in the ancient capital of -Auvergne. It is a famous place for a fair, being nearly the size and -shape of Eaton Square, with two rows of plane-trees running round it, -but otherwise unenclosed. As we alighted from the tram-car, we could see -a long line of booths, with prodigious pictures in front of them, and -platforms on which bands were playing and actors gesticulating; but -before starting on our tour, we were attracted by a crowd close to the -stopping-place of the cars. It proved to be a ring, four or five deep, -round the carpet of athletes. They were two, a man and a woman, both in -the usual flesh-coloured tights, the latter without any pretence of a -skirt. The man was walking round, changing the places of the weights and -clubs, until sufficient sous had been thrown on to the carpet, the woman -screening her face from the sun with a big fan, and talking with her -nearest neighbours in the ring. She was a remarkably fine young woman, -with well-cut features, and a snake-head on a neck like a column; and, -strange to say, her expression was as modest and quiet as though pink -tights were the ordinary walking-dress on the Place de Jaude. The -necessary sous were soon carpeted, and the performance began. It was -just the usual thing, lifting and catching heavy weights, wielding -clubs, etc., the only novelty being that a woman should be one of the -performers. She followed the man, doing several feats with heavy weights -which were painful to witness, and we passed on to the row of booths. -The average price for entrance was 2 1/2 sous, but after experimenting -on the two first, we agreed that in such a temperature the outside was -decidedly the best part of the show. These two were some Indian dancers, -male and female, who stood up one after another and postured from the -hips, and waved scarfs, the rest beating time on banjos; and a “_Miss_ -Flora, _dompteuse_,” a snake-tamer. From this announcement over the -booth entrance we rather expected to find a countrywoman, but the -performer was a squat little Frenchwoman, in the same skirtless tights, -who took some sleepy snakes out of a box, put them round her neck, and -then wanted to make us pay a second time, which we declined to do. The -next booth ought to have been amusing, but no boys came to play while -we stopped. It was announced as “Le Massacre d’Innocents.” A number of -these “Innocent” puppets looked out of a row of holes in a large wooden -frame, not more than eight feet from the rail in front of it. Standing -behind this rail the player, on paying 5 centimes, is handed a soft -ball, which he can discharge at any one of the Innocents he may select, -and “chaque bonhomme renversé gagne une demi-douzaine de biscuits.” I -suppose the biscuits were bad, as otherwise the absence of boys seemed -incredible. Any English lower-school boy would have brought down a -_bonhomme_ at that distance with every ball, unless the balls were -somehow doctored. But no boy turned up; so we passed on to the biggest -booth in the fair, with pictures of wondrous beasts and heroic men -and women over the platform, on which a big drum and clarionet invited -entrance, in strains which drowned those of all the neighbouring booths. -We read that inside a “Musée historique, destructive, et amusant” was on -show, but contented ourselves with the pictures outside. - -Facing the other side of the place, with their backs to the larger -booths along which we had come, were a row of humbler stalls and booths, -most of the latter being devoted to some kind of gambling. There were -three or four _courses des petits chevaux_, not so well appointed as the -permanent one in the Royat Park, but on the same lines, and a number -of hazard-boards-and other tables, about the size of those which the -thimble-riggers used to carry about at English fairs. These last were -new to me. They have a hollow rim round them, into which the player puts -a large marble, which runs out on to the face of the table, which is -marked all over with numbers, six or eight towards the centre being red, -and the rest black. If the marble stops on one of these red numbers, the -player wins; if on a black one, the table wins. The odds seemed to be -more than twenty to one against the player; but if so, the tables would -surely be less crowded. As it was, they did a merry trade, never for a -moment wanting a player while we looked on. Most of these were soldiers -of the garrison, interspersed with peasants in blouses, who dragged out -their sous with every token of disgust and resentment, but seemed quite -unable to get away from the tables. On the whole, after watching for -some time, I was confirmed in the belief that we are right in putting -down gambling in all public places. Nothing, I suppose, can stop it; but -there is no good in thrusting the temptation under the noses of boys and -fools. - -After making the round of the fair, we strolled up the hill to the -Cathedral, which dominates the city, and looks out over as fair and rich -a prospect as the world has to show. Brassey, when he was building one -of the railways across La Limagne, the plain which stretches away -east of Clermont, is reported to have said that if France were utterly -bankrupt, the surface value of her soil would set her on her legs again -in two years; and one can quite believe him. The streets of the old -town, which surrounds the Cathedral, are narrow and steep, but full -of old houses of rare architectural interest. Many of them must have -belonged to great folk, whose arms are still to be seen over the doors, -inside the quiet courts through which you enter from the streets. In -these one could see, as we passed, little groups of gossips, knitting, -smoking, “_causer_-ing.” The _petit bourgeois_ has succeeded to the -noble, and now enjoys those grand, broad staircases and stone balconies. -They form an excellent setting to the Cathedral, itself a grand specimen -of Norman Gothic, begun by Hugues de la Tour, the sixty-sixth bishop, -before his departure for the Crusades, and finished by Viollet-le-Duc, -who only completed the twin spires in 1877. But interesting as the -Cathedral is, it is eclipsed by the Church of Notre Dame du Port, the -oldest building in Clermont. It dates from the sixth century, when the -first church was built on the site by St. Avitus, eighteenth bishop. -This was burnt 853 A.D., and rebuilt by St. Sigon, forty-third bishop, -in 870. Burnt again, it was again rebuilt as it stands to-day, in the -eleventh century. In it Peter the Hermit is said to have preached the -First Crusade, when the Council called by Pope Urban II. was sitting at -Clermont. Whether this be so or not, it is by far the most perfect and -interesting specimen of the earliest Gothic known to me; and the crypt -underneath the chancel is unique. It is specially dedicated to St. Mary -du Port, and over the altar is the small statue of the Virgin and Child, -around and before which votive offerings of all kinds--crosses and -military decorations, bracelets, jewels, trinkets, many of them, I -should think, of large value--hang and lie. The small image has no -beauty whatever--in fact, is just a plain black doll--but of untold -value to many generations of Auvernois, who regard it as a talisman -which has, again and again, preserved their city from sword and -pestilence. I am not sure whether, amongst the small marble tablets -which literally cover the walls, one may not be found in memory of the -great fight of Gergovia, in which Vercingétorix, if he did not actually -defeat Cæsar, turned the great captain and his Roman legions away from -this part of Gaul. At any rate, amongst the most prominent, is one -inscribed with the names “Coulmiers,” “Patay,” “Le Mans,” the battles -which in 1870-71 stayed the German advance on Clermont, and saved the -capital of Auvergne. The rest are, for the most part, private tablets, -thanksgivings for the cure of all manner of sickness and disease to -which flesh is heir. To this shrine all sufferers have come in the -faith which finds a voice all round these old walls,--“Qu’on est heureux -d’avoir Marie pour mère”! That human instinct which longs for a female -protectrix and mediator “behind the veil,” speaks here, too, as it -did 2000 years ago, when the [Greek phrase] guarded the shrines of -Athens and her colonies. - - - - -Scoppio Del Carro, Florence, Easter Eve, 1891. - -I have just come back from witnessing an extraordinary, and, I should -think, a unique ceremony, which is enacted here on Easter Eve; and, on -sitting down quietly to think it over, can scarcely say whether I am -most inclined to laugh, or to cry, or to swear. In truth, the “Scoppio -del Carro”--or “explosion of the fireworks”--as it is called, is a -curious comment on, or illustration of, your last week’s remarks on -Superstitions. “The carefully preserved dry husk of outward observance” - in this case undoubtedly speaks, to those who have ears to hear, of a -heroic time, and the spectator rubs his eyes, and feels somehow-- - - As though he looked upon the sheath - - Which once had clasped Excalibur. - -At any rate, that is rather how I felt, as, standing at noon in the -dense crowd in the nave of the Duomo, I saw the procession pass within -a few feet of me, on their way from the great entrance up to the high -altar, which was ablaze already with many tall candles. Although within -a few feet, the intervening crowd was so thick that I could only see the -heads and shoulders of the taller choristers and priests as they passed; -but I saw plainly enough, though the wearer was low of stature, the tall -mitre--it looked like gold--which the Archbishop wore as he walked in -the procession. Our bishops, I am told, are wearing or going to wear -them (Heaven save the mark!), which made me curious. They threaded their -way slowly up to the high altar; and presently we heard in the distance -intoning and chants; and then, after brief pause, the dove (so called) -started from the crucifix, I think, at any rate from a high point on the -altar, for the open door. But in order to be clear as to what the dove -carries and is supposed to do, we must go back to the Second Crusade. - -I give the story as I make it out by comparing the accounts in various -guide-books with those of residents interested in such matters. These -differ much in detail, but not as to the main facts. These are, that -in 1147 A.D. a Florentine noble of the Pazzi family, Raniero by name, -joined, some say led, the 2500 Tuscans who went on the Crusade. In any -case, he greatly distinguished himself by his courage, and is said to -have planted the first standard of the Cross on the walls of Jerusalem. -For this he was allowed to take a light from the sacred fire on the Holy -Sepulchre, which he desired to carry back to his much-loved F’orence. An -absurd part of the legend now comes in. Finding the wind troublesome as -he rode with the light, he turned round, with his face to his horse’s -tail (as if the wind always blew in Crusaders’ faces), and so at last -brought it safely home, where his ungrateful fellow-citizens, when they -saw him come riding in this fashion, called out, “Pazzo!” “Pazzo!” or -“Mad!” which his family forthwith wisely adopted as their patronymic. - -The sacred fire was housed in a shrine in St. Biagio, built by Raniero, -and has never been allowed to go out since that day--so it is said--and -from it yearly are relighted all the candles used in Florentine churches -at the Easter festival. It is a striking custom. Gradually, during the -Good Friday services, the lights are extinguished in the Duomo, and all -the churches, till at midnight they are in darkness, and are only relit -next day by fire brought even yet by a Pazzi, a descendant of Raniero, -from St. Biagio. This is, however, doubtful, some authorities asserting -that the family is extinct, others that it not only exists, but still -spends 2000 lire a year in preserving the sacred fire. A stranger has -no means that I know of, of sifting out the fact. Anyhow, I can testify -that somehow the fire is in the Duomo before noon, as any number of -candles were alight on the high altar when I got there at 11.30, half an -hour before the procession. Anything more orderly than the great crowd I -have never seen. It was of all nations, languages, and ranks, though -the great majority were Tuscan peasants with their families from all the -surrounding country, waiting in eager expectation for the flight of -the dove from the high altar, through the doors to the great car which -stands waiting outside at the bottom of the broad steps in front of the -Duomo. If the dove makes a successful flight, and lights the fireworks -which are hung round the car, there will be a good harvest and abundance -of wine and oil, and of oranges and lemons. This year the faces of the -peasants and their wives and children--and most attractive brown faces -they were--were anxious, for it had been raining hard in the morning, -and still drops were falling. However, all went well. At about 12.10 -the chanting ceased, and the dove--a small firework of the rocket -genus--rushed down the nave, some ten feet over our heads, along a -thin wire which I had not noticed before, and set light promptly to -the fireworks on the car, which began to turn and explode, not without -considerable fizzing and spluttering, but on the whole successfully. -Then the dove turned and came back, still alight, and leaving a trail of -sparks as it sped along, to the high altar. How it was received there, -and what became of it, I cannot say, as I was swept along in the rush to -the doors which immediately followed, and had enough to do to pilot my -companion, a lady, to the new centre of interest. This was the car to -which the sacred fire had now been transferred, and which was about to -start on its round to the other churches. It is chocolate-coloured, and -spangled with stars, some twenty feet high, surmounted by a large crown -and Catherine-wheel. As our crowd swept out of the Duomo and down the -steps, to mingle with the still larger crowd outside, men were rehanging -the car with fresh fireworks, and putting-to four mighty white oxen, -gaily garlanded. I remarked that the conductor, a tall, six-foot man, -could not look over the shoulder of one of these shaft-oxen as he was -harnessing him in the shafts! - -There could be no question as to the very best place for spectators. -It was the centre of the top step leading up to the Duomo façade; and, -finding ourselves there, we stopped and let the crowd surge past us. -Almost at once I became aware that this favoured spot was occupied -by the English-speaking race almost exclusively, the accent of cousin -Jonathan, I think, on the whole predominating. Two Italian boys looked -up at us with large, lustrous brown eyes; otherwise the natives were -absent. It seems like a sort of law of social gravitation, that in these -latter days the speakers of our language should get into all the world’s -best places, and having got there should stop. One cannot much wonder -that the speakers in other tongues should feel now and then as if they -were being rather crowded out. We did not pursue the car as it -lumbered away under the glorious campanile, surrounded by the rejoicing -multitude, for the sun had now got the upper hand, and the whole city -and plain right away to the lower hills, and the snow-capped Apennines -in the background, were aglow with the sort of subdued purple or -amethyst light which seems to me to differentiate Tuscany from all other -countries known to me. Now, gradually to put out all the lights in the -churches on Good Friday, and to relight them from fire from the Holy -Sepulchre next day, seems to me a worthy and pathetic custom; but this -mixing it up with the firework business, and having the Bishop and all -the strength of the Cathedral out to help in this dove trick, spoils the -whole thing, and makes one wish one had not gone to see it, recalling -too forcibly, as it does to an Englishman, the Crystal Palace on a -fireworks’ night, and the similar “dove” which travels from the Royal -Gallery, where too-well-fed citizens and others sit smoking, to light -the great “concerted piece” in the grounds below. It was like inserting -“Abracadabra!” in the middle of the “Miserere.” P.S.--Since writing -the ‘above, we have had an arrival in Florence which will interest your -readers,--to wit, fifty young persons of both sexes from Toynbee Hall, -with Mr. Bolton King as conductor; and the English community are doing -all they can to make their stay pleasant. On the morrow of their arrival -Lady Hobart entertained them at her villa of Montauto, the one in which -Hawthorne wrote _Transformation_. It is a thirteenth-century house, -or, I should rather say, that the villa, with its large, airy suite of -rooms, with vaulted ceilings, has grown round a machicolated tower* -of that date, the highest building on the Bellosquardo Hill, to the -south-west of the city. From the top of it, reached by rather rickety -and casual old stairs, there is, I should think, as glorious a view -as the world can show,--a perfect panorama, with Florence lying -right below, and beyond, Fiesole and Vallombrosa, and the village of -stone-cutters on the slope of the Apennines, which reared the greatest -of stonecutters, Michael Angelo, and beyond, the highest Apennines, -still snow-covered; and to the north, the rich plain of vineyards, and -olive-groves, and orange and lemon gardens, thickly sprinkled with -the bright white houses of the peasant cultivators and the graceful -campaniles of village churches, beyond which one could see clearly on -this “white-stone” day the snow-clad peaks of the Carrara Mountains in -the far north. I can hardly say whether the Toynbee visitors, or those -who were gathered to welcome them by the hospitable hostess, enjoyed -the unrivalled view most; but this we soon discovered, that the visitors -were about as well acquainted with the story of each point of interest, -as it was pointed out to them, as the oldest resident. Surely the -schoolmaster is at last abroad with us in England in many ways of which -we have good right to feel proud, and for which we may well be thankful. - - - - -A Scamper at Easter, 8th April 1893. - -No one can dislike more than I the habit which has become so common of -late years amongst us--thanks, or rather no thanks, to Mr. Gladstone--of -running down our own English ways of dealing with all creation, from -Irishmen to black-beetles. I believe, on the contrary, that on the whole -there is not, nor ever was, a nation that kept a more active conscience, -or tried more honestly to do the right thing all round according to its -lights. Nevertheless, I am bound to admit that our methods don’t always -succeed, as, for instance, with our treatment of our “submerged tenth,” - if that is the accepted name for the section of our people which Mr. G. -Booth, in his excellent _Life and Labour in London_, places in his A and -B classes (and which, by the way, are only 8.2, and not 10 per cent), -or with our seagulls. Some years ago I called your readers’ attention to -the rapid demoralisation of these beautiful birds at one of our northern -watering-places; how they just floated past the pier-heads hour after -hour, waiting for the doles which the holiday folk and their children -brought down for them in paper-bags. Our sea-going gulls, I regret -to note, are now similarly affected. At any rate, some forty of them -diligently followed the steamer in which I sailed for my Easter holiday, -from the Liverpool docks till we dropped our pilot and, turned due south -off Holyhead. By that time our last meal had been eaten and the remains -cast into the sea. The gulls seemed to be quite aware of this; and -we left them squabbling over the last scraps of fish and potatoes, or -loafing slowly back to Liverpool. Thirty-six hours later we entered -the Garonne, and steamed sixty miles up it to Bordeaux. For all that -distance there were plenty of French gulls on the water or in the air, -but, so far from following us, not one of them seemed to take the least -notice of us, but all went on quietly with their fishing or courting; -and yet our cook’s mate must have thrown out as much broken victuals -after breakfast in the Garonne as he did after luncheon or dinner on the -Welsh coast. It cannot be because the French gulls are Republicans, -for the Republic has, if anything, increased the national appetite for -unearned loaves and fishes. It is certainly very odd; but, anyhow, I -hope our gulls will not take to more self-respecting ways of life, for -it is a real treat to watch them in the ship’s wake, without effort, -often without perceptible motion of the wings, keeping up the fourteen -knots an hour. The Captain and I fraternised over the gulls, whom he -loves, and will not allow to be shot at from his ship. “I’ll shoot -whether you like it or not,” insisted a sporting gent on a recent -voyage. “If you do, I’ll put you in irons,” retorted the Captain; -whereupon the sporting gent collapsed--a pity, I think, for an -action for false imprisonment would have been interesting under the -circumstances. I fancy the Captain is right, but must look up the law -after Easter. - -I am surprised that this route is not more popular with the increasing -numbers of our people who like a short run to the south of France in our -hard spring weather. You can get by this way to Bordeaux quicker than -you can by Dover or Folkestone from any place north of Trent, unless you -travel day and night, and sleep on the trains, and for about half -the money. The packets are cargo-boats, but with excellent cabins and -sleeping accommodation for twelve or fourteen passengers, including as -good a bath as on a Cunard or White Star liner. And yet I was the only -passenger last week. There can scarcely be a more interesting short -voyage for any one who is a decent sailor; but I suppose the fourteen -or sixteen hours “in the Bay of Biscay, oh!” scares people. As far as my -experience goes, the Atlantic roars like a sucking-dove in the Channel -and the Bay at Easter-time. There was not wind enough to dimple the -ocean surface, and until we passed Milford Haven, no perceptible motion -on the ship. Then, as we crossed the opening of the Bristol Channel, -she began to roll--quite unaccountably, as it seemed at first; but -on watching carefully, one became aware that, though the surface was -motionless, the great deep beneath was heaving with long pulsations -from the west, which lifted us in regular cadence every thirty or forty -seconds. I have often crossed the Atlantic, but never seen the like, as -always before there has been a ripple on the calmest day, which gave the -effect, at any rate, of surface motion. The best idea I can give of it -is, if on a long stretch of our South Downs the successive turf slopes -took to rising and falling perpendicularly every minute. The Captain -said there must have been wild weather out west, and these were the -rollers. It was a grand sight to watch the great heave pass on till -it reached the Land’s End, and ran up the cliffs there. We passed near -enough to see the mining works, close to the level of high-tide, and the -villages on the cliff-tops above, or clinging on to the slopes wherever -these were not too precipitous. One can realise what manner of men and -sailors this Ear West has bred of old, and, I hope, still breeds. I pity -the Englishman whose pulse does not quicken as he sails by the Land’s -End, and can see with a glass some of the small harbours out of which -Drake and Frobisher and Hawkins sailed, and drew the crews that followed -and fought the Armada right away to the Straits of Dover. - -As the Land’s End light receded, we became aware of another light away -some twenty miles to the south-west. It is on a rock not fifty yards -across, the Captain says, at high tide, and often unapproachable -for weeks together--“The Hawk,” by name, on which are kept four -lighthouse-men, who spend there alternate months, weather permitting. -I was glad to hear that there are four at a time, as the sight of “The -Hawk” brought vividly to my mind the gruesome story of fifty years back, -when there were only two men, who were known not to be good friends. One -died, and his companion had to wait with the dead body for weeks before -his relief came. - -I noticed, before we were two hours out, that there was something -unusually smart about the crew, quite what one would look for on the -_Umbria_ or _Germanic_, but scarcely on a 700-tons cargo-boat plying to -Bordeaux. Several of the young hands were fine British tars, with the -splendid throats and great muscular hands and wrists which stand out so -well from the blue woollen jerseys; but the one who struck me most was -the ship’s carpenter, a gray, weather-beaten old salt, who was going -round quietly, but all the time with his broad-headed hammer, setting -little things straight, helping to straighten the tarpaulins over the -hatches and deck-cargo, and sounding the well. I caught him now and then -for a few words, as he passed my deck-chair, and got the clue. Most of -the crew were Naval Reserve men, and followed the Captain, a lieutenant -in the R.N.R., who could fly the blue ensign in foreign ports, which -they liked. Besides, he was a skipper who cared for his men, looked -after their mess and berths, and never wanted to make anything out of -them; charged them only a shilling a pound for their baccy, the price at -which he could get it out of bond, while most skippers charged 2s. 6d., -the shop price. He had come to this boat while his big ship was laid -up in dock, to oblige the owners, so they had followed him. Besides, -he never put them to any work he wouldn’t bear a hand in; had stood for -hours up to his waist last year in the hold when they were bringing -five hundred cattle and seven hundred hogs from Canada, running before a -heavy gale. The water they shipped was putting out the engine fires, -and the pumps wouldn’t work till they had bailed for ten hours. However, -they got in all right, and never lost a beast. Of course I was keen to -hear the Captain on this subject, and so broached it at his table. -Yes, it was quite true; they had run before a heavy gale from off -Newfoundland, and the pumps gave out off the Irish coast. They got the -sludge bailed out enough for all the fires to get to work just about in -time, or would have drifted on the rocks and gone all to pieces in a few -minutes. Yes, it was about the nastiest piece of work he had ever had to -do; the sludge, for it was only half water, was above his waist, and had -quite spoiled his uniform. The deck engineer--a light-haired man, all -big bones and muscle, whom he pointed out to me--was in the deepest -part of the hold up to his arm-pits, and had worked there for ten hours -without coming up! He was a R.N.R. man, like the old carpenter and -most of the rest. The old fellow was one of the staunchest and best -followers, probably because he was tired of going aground. He had been -aground seventeen times! for the Captain in his last ship had a way -of charging shoals, merely saying, “Oh, she’ll jump it!” which she -generally declined to do. The Captain is a strong Churchman, but shares -the prejudice against carrying ministers. “The devil always has a show” - when you’re carrying a minister. The first time he tried it, he was -taking out his own brother, and they were twenty-two days late at -Montreal. It was an awful crossing, a gale in their teeth all the way; -most of the ships that started with them had to put back. I suggested -that if he hadn’t had his brother on board, he mightn’t have got over -at all; but he wouldn’t see it. Next time, a man fell from the mast-head -and was killed; and the next, a man jumped overboard. He would never -carry a minister again if he could help it. - -One pilot took us out to Holyhead, but it took three French ones to -take us up to Bordeaux. The Garonne banks are only picturesque here and -there; but the flat banks have their own interest, for do we not see -the choicest vineyards of the claret country as we run up? There was -the Chateau Lafitte and the Chateau Margaux. I suppose one ought within -one’s heart, or rather, within one’s palate perhaps, “to have felt a -stir”-- - - As though one looked upon the sheath - - Which once had clasped Excalibur. - -But I could not tell the difference between Margaux and any decent -claret with my eyes shut, so I did not feel any stir--unless, perhaps, -as a patriot, when we passed much the most imposing establishment, and -the Captain said, “That is Chateau Gilbey”! I looked with silent wonder, -for did I not remember years ago, when the Gladstone Grocers’ Licences -Bill was young, and the Christie Minstrels sung scoffingly-- - - Ten little niggers going out to dine, - - One drank Gilbey, and then there were nine? - -And here was Gilbey with the finest “caves” and the choicest vineyard -in the Bordelaise! Who can measure the competitive energy of the British -business-man? - -I must end as I set out, with the birds. As we neared the mouth of -the Garonne, sixteen miles from land, the Captain said, two little -water-wagtails flitted into the rigging. There they rested a few -minutes, and then, to my grief, started off out to sea, but again -and again came hack to the ship. At last a sailor caught one, and the -Captain secured it and took it to his cabin, but thought it would be -sure to die. It was the hen-bird. She did not die, but flitted away -cheerfully when he brought her out and let her fly on the quay of -Bordeaux. But I fear she will never find her mate. - - - - -Lourdes, 15th April 1893. - -The farthest point south in our Easter scamper was Lourdes, to which -I found that my companions were more bent on going than to any other -possible place within our range. The attractions even of the Pass of -Ronces-valles, of St. Sebastian, and the Pyrenean battle-fields of 1814, -faded with them before those of the nineteenth-century Port Royal. At -first I said I would not go. The fact is, I am one of the old-fashioned -folk who hold that some day the kingdoms of this world are to become the -kingdoms of Christ, and that all peoples are to be gathered “in one fold -under one Shepherd.” It has always seemed to me that one of the surest -ways of postponing that good time is to be suspicious of other faiths -than our own; to accuse them of blind superstition and deliberate -imposture; even to walk round their churches as if they were museums or -picture-galleries, while people are kneeling in prayer. So I said “No”; -I would stop on the terrace at Pau, with one of the most glorious views -in the world to look at, and carefully examine Henry IV.’s château, -or go and get a round of golf with my hibernating fellow-countrymen. I -thought that the probable result of visiting Lourdes might be to make me -more inclined to think a large section of my fellow-mortals dupes, and -their priests humbugs--conclusions I was anxious to avoid. However, I -changed my mind at the last moment, and am heartily glad I did. It is an -easy twenty miles (about) from Pau, from which you run straight to the -Pyrenees, and pull up in a green nook of the outlying lower mountains, -where two valleys meet, which run back towards the higher snow-capped -range. They looked so tempting to explore, as did also the grim old keep -on the high rock which divides them and completely dominates the little -town, that twenty years ago I couldn’t have resisted, and should have -gone for an afternoon’s climb. But I am grown less lissom, if not wiser, -and so took my place meekly in the fly which my companions had chartered -for the grotto. We were through the little town in a few minutes, the -only noteworthy thing being the number of women who offered us candles -of all sizes to burn before the Madonna’s statue in the grotto, and the -number of relic-shops. Emerging from the street, we found ourselves in -front of a green lawn, at the other end of which was a fine white marble -church, almost square, with a dome--more like a mosque, I thought, than -a Western church; and up above this another tall Gothic church, with a -fine spire, to which the pilgrims ascend by two splendid semi-circular -flights of easy, broad steps, one on each side of the lower church, and -holding it, as it were, in their arms. We, however, drove up the steep -ascent outside the left or southern staircase, and got down at the door -of the higher church, which is built on the rock at the bottom of which -is the famous spring and grotto. We entered by a spacious porch, where -my attention was at once arrested by the mural tablets of white marble, -each of which commemorated the cure of some sufferer: “Reconnaissance -pour la guérison de mon fils,” “de ma fille,” etc., being at least as -frequent as those for the cure of the person who put up the tablet. I -thought at first I would count them, but soon gave it up, as not only -this big vestibule, but the walls of all the chapels, and of the big -church below (built, I was told, and hope, by the Duke of Norfolk at his -own cost), are just covered with them. This upper church was a perfect -blaze of light and colour, much too gorgeous for my taste; but what the -decorations were which gave this effect I cannot say, as I was entirely -absorbed in noting the votive offerings of all kinds which were hung -round each of the shrines, both here and in the lower church. The most -noteworthy of these, to my mind, are the number of swords, epaulettes, -and military decorations, which their owners have hung up as thank -offerings. I do not suppose that French officers and privates differ -much from ours, and I am bold to assert that Tommy Atkins would not part -with his cross or medal, or his captain, for that matter, with his -epaulettes or sword, if they had gone away from Lourdes no better in -body than when they went there hobbling from wounds, or tottering from -fever or ague. - -When we had seen the upper church we went down a long flight of circular -stairs, and came out in the lower (Duke of Norfolk’s) church,--much more -interesting, I think, architecturally, and decorated in better, because -quieter, taste than the upper one. From this we went round to the grotto -in the rock, on which the upper church stands, and in which the famous -spring rises, and over it a not unpleasant (I cannot say more) statue -of the Madonna; and all round candles alight of all sizes, from -farthing-dips to colossal moulds, many of which had been burning, they -said, for a week. A single, quiet old priest sat near the entrance -reading his Missal, but only speaking when spoken to. In front were -ranged long rows of chairs, on which sat or knelt some dozen pilgrims -with wistful faces, waiting, perhaps for the troubling of the waters. -These are carried from the grotto to a series of basins along the rock -outside, at one of which two poor old crones with sore eyes were bathing -them, and talking Basque (I believe)--at any rate some unknown tongue -to me. I should have liked to hear their experiences, but they couldn’t -understand a word of my Anglican French. Here, again, the most -striking object is the mass of crutches of all shapes and sizes, and -fearsome-looking bandages, which literally cover the rock on each -side of the entrance to the grotto, for the space (I should guess) of -fourteen or fifteen feet on one side, and ten or twelve on the other. - -And so we finished our inspection, and went back to our fly, which we -had ordered to meet us at the end of the lawn above mentioned, which -lies between the churches and the town; and so to the railway station, -and back to Biarritz by Pau. I daresay that people who go there at the -times when the great bodies of pilgrims come, may carry away a very -different impression from mine. All I can say is, that I never was in -a place where there was less concealment of any kind; and there was no -attempt whatever to influence you in any way by priest or attendant. -There were all the buildings and the grotto open, and you could examine -them and their contents undisturbed for any time you chose to give to -them, and draw from your examination whatever conclusions you pleased. -So I, for one, can only repeat that I am heartily glad that I went; and -shall think better of my Roman Catholic brethren as the result of my -visit for the rest of my life. - -Of course, the main interest of Lourdes lies in the world-old -controversy between the men of science and the men of faith, as to the -reality of the alleged facts--miracles, as many folk call them--of the -healing properties which the waters of this famous spring, or the air of -Lourdes, or the Madonna, or some other unknown influence, are alleged -to possess, and to be freely available for invalid pilgrims who care -to make trial of them. Every one in those parts that I met, at Lourdes -itself, at Pau, Biarritz, Bayonne, is interested in the question and -ready to discuss it. Perhaps I can best indicate the points of the -debate by formulating the arguments on each side which I heard, putting -them into the mouths of representative men--a doctor and a priest. I -was lucky enough to fall in with an excellent representative of the -scientific side, an able and open-minded M.D. on his travels. I had no -opportunity of speaking to one of the priests; but their side of the -argument is stoutly upheld by at least half of the people one meets. - -_Dr._--They are nothing but what are called faith-cures, akin to those -which the Yankee Sequah effects when he goes round our northern towns -in his huge car, with his brass band and attendant Indian Sachems in the -costume of the prairie. Of course, here the surroundings are far more -impressive and serious; but the cures are the same for all that--some -action of the nerves which makes patients believe they are cured, when -they are not really. Probably nine-tenths are just as bad again in a few -months. - -_Priest_.--Well, don’t we say they are faith-cures? We don’t pretend -that we can do them, as this Sequah you talk about does. You allow that -great numbers _think_ they are cured, and walk about without crutches or -bandages, or pains in their bodies, and enjoy life again for a time at -any rate; which is more than you can do for them, or they wouldn’t come -here to be healed. - -_Dr_.--How long do they walk about without crutches or pains in their -limbs? Why don’t you take us behind the scenes, and let us test and -follow up some of these cures? - -_Priest_.--We can’t take you behind the scenes, for there are no scenes -to go behind. We tell you _we_ don’t do the cures, or know precisely how -they are done. We can’t hinder your inquiries, and don’t want to hinder -them if we could. There are the tablets of “reconnaissance,” with names -and addresses; you can go to these, if you like, or talk to the patients -whom you see at the spring or in the chapels. - -_Dr_.--Come, now! You don’t really mean to say you believe that our -Lord’s Mother appeared to this girl on 23rd March 1858, and told her -that this Lourdes was a specially favourite place with her; and that she -has since that time given these special healing qualities to the water -or air of Lourdes, or whatever it is that causes these effects at this -place? - -_Priest_.--We mean to say that the girl thoroughly believed it, and we -hold that her impression--her certainty--didn’t come from the devil, as -it must if it was a lie; that it wasn’t the mere dream of a hysterical -girl, and was not given her for nothing. Else, how can one account -for these buildings, costing, perhaps, as much as one of your finest -cathedrals, all put up in thirty-five years? - -_Dr_.--Yes; but that doesn’t answer my question. Did the Mother of our -Lord appear to this girl, and is it she who works the cures. - -_Priest_.--If you mean by “appear,” “come visibly,” we don’t know. But -you should remember always that the French have a very different feeling -about the Madonna from you English. Perhaps you can’t help connecting -her with another French girl, Joan of Arc, who believed the Madonna had -appeared to her and told her she should turn you English out of France, -which she did--a more difficult and costly job even than building these -churches. - -_Dr_.--Well, we won’t argue about the Madonna, and I am quite ready -to admit that the evidence you have here, in the tablets and votive -offerings, the crutches and bandages, are _primâ-facie_ proof that -numbers of pilgrims have gone away from Lourdes under the impression -that they were cured. What I maintain is, that you have not shown, and -cannot show, that your cures are not merely due to the absorption of -diseased tissue as the result of strong excitement--an effect not at all -common, but quite recognised as not unfrequent by some of the highest -authorities in medical science. - -There the controversy rests, I think; at any rate, so far as I heard it -debated; and I must own that the scientific explanation does not seem to -me to hold water. To take one instance, would the absorption of diseased -tissue drive a piece of cloth out of a soldier’s leg or body? Perhaps -yes, for what I know; but would the excitement of a mother cure the -disease of her child? These two classes of cures (of which there are a -great number) struck me, perhaps, more than any of the rest. But I must -not take up more of your space, and can only advise all your readers who -are really interested in this problem to take the first opportunity they -can of going to Lourdes, and, if possible, as we did, at a time when the -great bodies of pilgrims are not there, and they can quietly examine the -facts there, for--_pace_ the doctors and men of science--these tablets, -swords, crutches, etc., are facts which they are bound to acknowledge -and investigate. I shall be surprised if they do not come away, as I -did, with a feeling that they have seen a deeply interesting sight for -which it is well worth while to come from England, and that there are -two sides to this question of the Lourdes miracles (so-called), either -of which any reverent student of the world in which he is living may -conscientiously hold. - - - - -Fontarabia, 22nd April 1893. - -Every year the truth of Burns’s “the best-laid schemes o’ mice and men -gang aft a-gley,” comes more home to me. From the time I was ten the -Pass of Roncesvalles has had a fascination for me. Then the habit of -ballad-singing was popular, and a relative of mine had a well-deserved -repute in that line. Amongst her old-world favourites were “Boland the -Brave” and “Durandarté.” The first told how Boland left his castle -on the Rhine, where he used to listen to the chanting in the opposite -convent, in which his lady-love had taken the veil on the false -report of his death, and “think she blessed him in her prayer when the -hallelujah rose”; and followed Charlemagne in his Spanish raid, till “he -fell and wished to fall” at Boncesvalles. The second, how Durandarté, -dying in the fatal pass, sent his last message to his mistress by his -cousin Montesinos. In those days I never could hear the last lines -without feeling gulpy in the throat:-- - - Kind in manners, fair in favour, - - Mild in temper, fierce in fight,-- - - Warrior purer, gentler, braver, - - Never shall behold the light. - -They may not be good poetry, but Monk Lewis, the author, never wrote any -others as good. Then Lockhart’s _Spanish Ballads_ were given me, and in -one of the best of those stirring rhymes, Bernardo del Carpio’s bearding -of his King, I read-- - - The life of King Alphonso I saved at Roncesval, - - Your word, Lord King, was recompense abundant for it all; - - Your horse was down, your hope was flown; I saw the falchion - - shine - - That soon had drunk thy royal blood had I not ventured mine, etc. - -Then, a little later, a family friend who had been an ensign in the -Light Division in July 1813, used to make our boyish pulses dance with -his tales of the week’s fighting in and round Roncesvalles, when Soult -was driven over the Pyrenees and Spain was freed. And again, later, came -the tale of Taillefer, the Conqueror’s minstrel, riding before the line -at the battle of Hastings, tossing his sword in the air, and chanting -the “Song of Roland,” and of the “Peers who fell at Roncesvalles.” So -you will believe, sir, that my first thought when I got to Biarritz, -with the Pyrenees in full view less than twenty miles off, was, “Now I -shall see the pass where Charlemagne’s peers, and five hundred British -soldiers as brave as any paladin of them all, had fought and died.” - The holidays galloped, and one day only was left, when at our morning -conference I found that my companions were bent on Fontarabia and San -Sebastian, and assured me we could combine the three, as Roncesvalles, -they heard, was close to Fontarabia. Then my faith in Sir -Walter--combined, I fear, with my defective training in geography--led -me astray, for had he not written in the battle-canto of Marmion:-- - - Oh, for one blast of that dread horn, - - On Fontarabian echoes borne, - - That to King Charles did come, - - When Roland brave, and Oliver, - - And every Paladin and Peer, - - At Roncesvalles died, etc. - -Now, of course, if Charlemagne could hear the horn of Roland on the top -of the pass where he turned back, “borne on Fontarabian echoes,” - then Fontarabia must be at the foot of the pass, where Roland and the -rear-guard were surrounded and fighting for their lives. In a weak -moment I agreed to Fontarabia and San Sebastian, and so shall most -likely never see Roncesvalles. It is fourteen miles distant as the crow -flies, or thereabouts; and I warn your readers that the three can’t be -done in one long day from Biarritz. - -However, I am bound to admit that Fontarabia and San Sebastian make a -most interesting day’s work. I had never been in Spain before, and -so was well on the alert when a fellow-passenger, as we slowed on -approaching the station, pointed across the sands below us and said, -“There’s Fontarabia!” There, perhaps two miles off, lay a small gray -town on a low hill with castle and church at the top, and gateway and -dilapidated walls on the side towards*us, looking as though it might -have gone off to sleep in the seventeenth century--a really curious -contrast to bustling Biarritz from which we had just come. We went down -to the ferry and took a punt to cross the river, which threaded the -broad sands left by the tide. It was full ebb; so our man had to take us -a long round, giving us welcome time for the view, which, when the -tide is up, must be glorious. Our bare-footed boatman, though Basque or -Spaniard, was quite “up to date,” and handled his punt pole in a style -which would make him a formidable rival of the Oxford watermen in the -punt race by Christ Church meadow, which, I suppose, is still held at -the end of the summer term. A narrow, rough causeway led us from the -landing-place to the town-gate in the old wall, where an artist who had -joined the party was so taken with the view up the main street that he -sat down at once to about as difficult a sketch as he will meet in a -year’s rambles. For from the gateway the main street runs straight -up the hill to the ruined castle and church at the top. It is narrow, -steep, and there are not two houses alike all the way up. They vary -from what must have been palaces of the grandees--with dim coats-of-arms -still visible over the doorways, and elaborately carved, deep eaves, -almost meeting those of their opposite neighbours across the street--to -poor, almost squalid houses, reaching to the second story of their -aristocratic neighbours’, but all with deep, overhanging, though -uncarved eaves, showing, I take it, how the Spaniard values his shade. -Up we went to the church and castle, the ladies looking wistfully into -such shops as there were, to find something to buy; but I fancy in vain. -Not a tout appeared to offer his services; or a shopkeeper, male or -female, to sell us anything. Such of the Fontarabians as we saw looked -at us with friendly enough brown eyes, which, however, seemed to say, -“Silly souls! Why can’t you stop at home and mind your own business?” - Even at the end of our inspection, when we spread our lunch on a broad -stone slab near the gate--the tombstone once, I should think, of a -paladin--there being no houses of entertainment visible to us, we had -almost a difficulty in attracting three or four children and a stray dog -to share our relics. - -The old castle is of no special interest, though there were a few rusty -old iron tubes lying about, said to have once been guns, which I should -doubt; and Charles V. is said to have often lived there during his -French wars. The church is very interesting, from its strong contrast -with those over the border--square, massive, sombre, with no attempt -at decoration or ornament round the high brass altars, except here and -there a picture, and small square windows quite high up in the walls, -through which the quiet, subdued light comes. The pictures, with one -exception, were of no interest; but that one exception startled and -fascinated me. The subject is the “Mater Dolorosa,” a full-length figure -standing, the breast bare, and seven knives plunged in the heart,--a -coarse and repulsive painting, but entirely redeemed by the intense -expression of the love, the agony, grid the sorely shaken faith which -are contending for mastery in the face. The painter must have been -suddenly inspired, or some great master must have stepped in to finish -the work. San Sebastian does not do after Fontarabia; a fine modern -town, with some large churches and a big new bull-ring, but of little -interest except for the fort which dominates the town on the sea-front. -How that fort was stormed, after one repulse and a long siege of -sixty-three days; how, in the two assaults and siege, more than four -thousand gallant soldiers of the British and allied army fell; and the -fearful story of the sack and burning of the old town by the maddened -soldiers, is to me almost the saddest episode in our military history. -I was glad when we had made our cursory inspection and got back to the -station on our return to Biarritz. That brightest and most bustling -of health resorts was our head-quarters, and I should think for young -English folk must be about the most enjoyable above ground. I knew that -it was becoming a formidable rival of the Riviera for spring quarters, -but was not at all prepared for the facts. Almost the first thing I saw -was a group of young Englishmen in faultless breeches and gaiters, just -come back from a meet of the pack of hounds; next came along some fine -strapping girls in walking costume, bent, I should think, on exploring -the neighbouring battlegrounds; next, men and youths in flannels, bound -for the golf links, where a handicap is going on (I wonder what a French -caddie is like?); then I heard of, but did not see, the start of the -English coach for Pau (it runs daily); and then youths on bicycles, -unmistakable Britons,--though the French youth have taken kindly, I -hear, to this pastime. There are four gigantic hotels at which friends -told me that nothing is heard but English at their _tables d’hôte_; -and in the quiet and excellent small “Hôtel de Bayonne,” at which we -stayed, having heard that it was a favourite with the French, out of the -forty guests or thereabouts, certainly three-fourths were English, and -the other one-fourth mostly Americans. On Easter Monday there was a -procession of cars, with children in fancy dresses representing the -local industries; but the biggest was that over which the Union Jack -waved, and a small and dainty damsel sat on the throne surrounded by -boys in the orthodox rig of a man-of-war’s-man and Tommy Atkins. In -fact, a vast stream of very solvent English seem to have fairly stormed -and occupied the place, to the great delight of the native car-drivers -and shopkeepers; and so grotesque was it that Byron’s cynical doggerel -kept sounding in my head as, at any rate, appropriate to Biarritz: - - The world is a bundle of hay, - - Mankind are the asses that pull; - - Each tugs in a different way, - - And the greatest of all is John Bull. - -But, apart from all the high jinks and festive goings-on, there is one -spot in Biarritz which may well prove a magnet to us, and before which -we should stand with uncovered heads and sorrowfully proud hearts; and -that is the fine porch of the English church. One whole side of it is -filled by a tablet, at the head of which one reads: “_Pristinæ -virtutis memor_. This porch, dedicated to the memory of the officers, -non-commissioned officers, and men of the British army, who fell in -the south-west of France from 7th October 1813 to 14th April 1814, was -erected by their fellow-soldiers and compatriots, 1882.” Then come the -names of forty-eight Line regiments, and the German Legion, followed in -each case by the death-roll, the officers’ names given in full. Let me -end with a few examples. The 42nd lost ten officers--two at Nive, one -at Orthez, and seven at Toulouse; the 43rd--five at Nivelle and Bayonne; -the 57th--six at Nivelle and Nive; the 79th--five at Toulouse, of whom -three bore the name of Cameron; the 95th--six at the Bidassoa, Nivelle, -and Nive. Such a record, I think, brings home to one even more vividly -than Napier’s pages the cost to England of her share in the uprising of -Europe against Napoleon; and it only covers six months of a seven years’ -struggle in the Peninsula! At the bottom of the tablet are the simple -words:-- - - Give peace in our time, oh Lord! - - - - -Echoes from Auvergne, La Bourboule, 2nd July 1893. - -We had heard through telegrams and short paragraphs in the French -papers of the sinking of the _Victoria_ before the _Spectator_ of 1st -July came to us here, in these far-away highlands of Auvergne; but yours -was the first trustworthy account in any detail which reached us. I am -sure that others must have felt as thankful to you as I did, for your -word was worthy the occasion, and told as it should be told, one -of the stories which ennoble a nation, and remain a [Greek phrase] -for all time. The lonely figure on the bridge is truly, as you say, a -subject for a great pictorial artist, and belongs “rather to the poet -than the journalist”; and one trusts that Sir George Tryon’s may stand -out hereafter in worthy verse as one of “the few clarion names” in our -annals. But it was surely the noble steadfastness of all, from admiral -to stoker, which has once more given us all “that leap of heart whereby -a people rise” to a keener consciousness of the meaning of national -life. I think one feels it even more out here amongst strangers than one -would have felt it at home, and can give God thanks that the old ideal -has come out again in the sinking of the _Victoria_ as it did in that of -the _Birkenhead_ forty years ago, when the ship’s boats took off all -the women and children, and the big ship went down at last “still under -steadfast men.” - -Those are, as you know, the words of Sir Francis Doyle, who gave voice -to the mixed anguish and triumph of the nation in worthy verse. I heard -the great story from the lips of one of the simplest of men, Colonel -Wright, who as a subaltern had formed the men up on the deck of the -_Birkenhead_ under Colonel Seton, and stood at his place on the right of -the line when she broke in two. He was entangled for some moments in the -sinking wreck, but managed to free himself, and, being a famous swimmer, -rose to the surface, and struck out for the shore amongst a number of -the men. It must have been one of the most trying half hours that men -ever went through; for, as they swam and cheered one another, now and -again a comrade would suddenly disappear, and they knew that one of the -huge sharks they had seen from the deck, passing backwards and forwards -under the doomed ship, was amongst them. When they had all but reached -the shore the man who swam by Wright’s side was taken. When I heard the -tale he was Assistant-Inspector of Volunteers under Colonel M’Murdo, and -going faithfully through his daily work. Strange to say, neither Horse -Guards nor War Office had taken any note of that unique deck-parade -and swim for life, and Ensign Wright had risen slowly to be Major and -Sub-Inspector of Volunteers. Stranger still, he seemed to think it all -right, and there was no trace of resentment or jealousy in his -plain statement of the facts--which, indeed, I had to draw out -by cross-questioning on our march from the Regent’s Park to our -headquarters in Bloomsbury. I was so moved by the story that I wrote -it all to Mr. Cardwell, then at the War Office, and had the pleasure of -seeing Major Wright’s name in the next _Gazette_ amongst the new C.B.’s. - -Well, well! It does one good now and then to breathe for a little in a -rarer and nobler atmosphere than that of everyday, into which we must -after all sink, and live there for nine-tenths of our time,--like the -old fish-wife, Mucklebackit, going back to mending the old nets and -chaffering over the price of herrings which have been bought by men’s -lives. And here we have great placards just out, announcing “Fêtes -de jour et de nuit,” with donkey-races and all manner of games, and -fireworks, including an “embrasement général,” whatever that may -forebode. “This life would be quite endurable but for its amusements,” - said Sir G. Cornewall Lewis, a wise man and excellent Minister of the -Crown. - -Our first Sunday at La Bourboule has been edifying from the Sabbatarian -point of view, and I shouldn’t wonder if the good little parson who is -taking the duty here during the bathing-season holds it up to us -for instruction next Sunday, if he can get a room for service, and a -congregation. There is no English church, and from what I hear not much -prospect of an arrangement for joint worship in the French Protestant -church, which was almost concluded, being carried out. Unfortunately, -a succession of young Ritualists have managed to alarm the French -Protestant pastor and his small flock, by treating them as Dissenters, -and making friends ostentatiously with the Roman Catholic priests. -However, happily the present incumbent (or whatever he should be called) -is a sensible moderately broad Churchman, who it may be hoped will bring -things straight again. But to return to my Sabbatarian story. An English -lady fond of equestrian exercise hired horses for herself and a friend, -and invited the able and pleasant young Irishman who doctors us all, -and is also churchwarden, to accompany them for a ride in these lovely -mountains. They started from this hotel, and, as it happened, just as -the parson was coming by; so, not being quite easy in their consciences -(I suppose), asked him if he saw any harm in it. To this he replied, -sensibly enough, that it was their fight, not his; and if they saw none, -he had nothing to say. So off they rode, meaning certainly to be back -by 8 P.M. for supper. I was about till nearly nine, when they had not -turned up; and next morning I heard the conclusion of the whole -matter. The doctor’s horse cast a shoe, and had to be led home, -limping slightly; while the lady’s horse came back dead-lame, and her -companion’s steed with both knees broken! Judging by the unmistakable -talent of these good Bourboulais for appreciating the value to their -guests of their water and other possessions, I should say that this -Sunday ride will prove a costly indulgence to the excursionists. - - - - -La Bourboule, 10th July 1893. - -Currency questions are surely amongst the things “which no fellow can -understand,”--a truth for which. I think, sir, I may even claim you as a -witness, after reading your cautious handling of the silver question in -recent numbers. But so far as my experience goes, there are no questions -as to which it is more difficult to shake convictions than those which -have been arrived at by unscientific persons. For instance, in this very -charming health-resort, the authorities at the Établissement des Bains, -where one buys bath-tickets, are under the delusion that 20 fr. (French -money) are the proper equivalent for the English sovereign. On my first -purchase of six tickets, amounting to 15 fr. (each bath costs 2 fr. 50 -c., or 50 c. more than at Royat), the otherwise intelligent person who -presided at the _caisse d’établissement_, tendered me a single 5 fr. -piece; and on my calling his attention to the mistake, as I supposed it -to be, and demanding a second 5 fr., calmly informed me that 20 fr. was -the change they always gave, and he could give no other. Whereupon, I -carried off my sovereign in high dudgeon, and--there being neither bank -nor money-changer’s office in this place, though more than twenty -large hotels!--applied to two of the larger shops only to find the -same delusion in force. In short, I only succeeded in getting 25 fr. -in exchange for my sovereign as a favour from our kind hostess at this -hotel. Wherefore, as I hear that a great crowd of English are looked for -next month, I should like to warn them to bring French money with them. -This experience reminded me of a good story which I heard Thackeray -tell thirty years ago. (If it is in _The Kicklebury’s on the Rhine_, or -printed elsewhere, you will suppress it). Either he himself or a friend, -I forget which, changed a sovereign on landing in Holland, put the -change in one particular pocket, and on crossing each frontier on his -way to the South of Italy, before that country or Germany had been -consolidated, again exchanged the contents of that pocket for the -current coin of the Kingdom, Duchy, or Republic he was entering. On -turning out the contents at Naples he found them equivalent to something -under 5s. of English money. - -Before I forget it, let me modify what I said last week as to the -ecclesiastical position of the Protestants here. - -The Anglicans are now represented by the “Colonial and Continental -Society.” They sent a clergyman, who has managed so well that we are now -on excellent terms with our French Protestant brethren, though we have -as yet no joint place of worship. This, however, both congregations hope -to secure shortly,--indeed, as soon as they can collect £400, half -of which is already in hand. Then the municipality, or the “Compagnie -d’Établissement des Bains,” I am not sure which, give a site, and -another £400, which will be enough to pay for a small church sufficient -for the present congregations. These will hold the building in common, -and, let us hope, will adjust the hours for the services amicably. At -present, the French Protestants worship in the _buvette_, where we all -drink our waters; and we Anglicans in an annex of the establishment--a -large room devoted during the week to Punch and Judy and the -marionettes. This rather scandalises some of our compatriots; I cannot -for the life of me see why. Indeed, it seems to me a very healthy lesson -to most of us, who are accustomed to the ritual which prevails in so -many of our restored, or recently built, English churches,--the lesson -which Jacob learnt on his flight from his father’s tents, when he slept -in the desert with a stone for pillow, “Surely the Lord is in this -place, and I knew it not.” Our congregation yesterday was something -over thirty. I believe it rises to one hundred, or more, next month. The -service was thoroughly hearty, and I really think every one must have -come meaning to say their prayers. I felt a slight qualm as to how -we should get on with the singing, and could not think why the parson -should choose about the longest hymn in the book, for there was -no organ, harmonium, or other musical instrument, and no apparent -singing-men or singing-women. However, my qualms vanished when our -pastor led off with a well-trained tenor voice which put us all at our -ease. - -The rest of our Sunday was by no means so successful, for the _fête du -jour et du soir_ began soon after our 11 A.M. _déjeûner_, and lasted -till about 10 P.M., when the lights in most of the paper-lanterns had -burnt out, and people had gone home from the Casino and the promenade -to their hotels or lodgings. I am old-fashioned enough to like a quiet -Sunday; but here, when the place is _en fête_, that is out of the -question,--at any rate, if you are a guest at one of the hotels which, -as they almost all do, faces on the “Avenue Gueneau de Mussy.” That name -will probably remind some of your readers of the able and popular doctor -of the Orleans family, who accompanied their exile, lived in England -during the Empire in Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square, and was popular -in London society. After 1870 he returned to France, and, it seems, -rediscovered these waters, or, at any rate, made them the fashionable -resort of patients in need of arsenical treatment. In gratitude, his -name has been given to this main avenue of La Bourboule, which runs the -whole length of the town, parallel to the River Dordogne, which comes -rushing down the valley from Mont Dore at a pace which I have never seen -water attain except in the rapids below Niagara, in which that strongest -and rashest of swimmers, Captain Webb, lost his life. The Avenue, though -parallel with, is some fifty yards from the river, and the intervening -space is planted with rows of trees, under which many donkeys and -hacks stand for the convenience of visitors. The opposite bank of -the Dordogne, which is crossed by two bridges, rises abruptly, and is -crowned by the two rival casinos, with the most imposing hotel of the -place between them, where (I am told) you pay 5 fr. a day extra for the -convenience of the only lift in La Bourboule! The fête of last Sunday -was given by the old Casino, and commenced directly after _déjeûner_ -with a gathering in the rooms and in front of the Casino on the terrace, -where the guests sat at small tables consuming black coffee, absinthe, -and other drinks, and strolling now and then into the billiard-room, or -the room in which the _jeu aux petits chevaux_, and some other game of -chance which I did not recognise, were in full swing. There is an inner -room where baccarat and roulette are going on, supposed to be only open -to tickets bought from the^ authorities, but which a young Englishman, -my neighbour at the _table d’hôte_, tells me he found no difficulty in -entering without a ticket. The rest of the fête, consisting chiefly of -donkey-races, climbing greasy poles, and fishing half-francs out of -meal tubs with the mouth, came off in a small park and plateau on the -hillside above the Casino. - -I used to enjoy donkey-races as a boy, when at our country feasts each -boy rode his neighbour’s donkey, and the last past the post was the -winner, and should probably have gone up the hill to witness a French -race, but that I found that here each boy rides his own donkey, and the -first past the post wins. This takes all the fun out of the race, so I -abstained. There were a few second-rate fireworks after dark, and the -Casino and most of the hotels were prettily lighted, and the trees hung -with yellow paper lanterns which looked like big oranges, but to the -Englishman, more or less accustomed to the great Brock’s performances, -the illumination business was very flat. - - - - -Comité des Fêtes. 17th July 1893. - -An Englishman can scarcely avoid the danger of having his national -vanity fed in this La Bourboule. A new hotel is being built on a fine -site above the Dordogne, just beyond the new Casino, and I hear on the -best authority that the proprietor means to have it furnished from top -to bottom by Messrs. Maple. As this will involve paying a duty of from -30 to 50 per cent on the articles imported, it is not easy to see where -the profit can come in, as the most prejudiced John Bull will scarcely -deny that native French furniture is about as good, and not very much -dearer than English. I can only account for it by the desire of all -purveyors here--from the chief hotel-keepers to the dealers in the -pretty Auvergne jewellery and the donkey-women--to get us as -customers,--not, perhaps, so much from love or admiration for us, as -because we have so much less power of remonstrance or resistance to -their charges. Unless he sees some flagrant overcharge in his hotel -bill, the Briton does not care to air his colloquial French in -discussing items with the former, who only meet him with polite shrugs; -and as for the others, they at once fall back upon an Auvergnese -_patois_, at least as different from ordinary French as a Durham miner’s -vernacular is from a West countryman’s. What satisfaction can come of -remonstrating about 2 fr., even in faultless grammatical French, when it -only brings on you a torrent of explanation of which you cannot -understand one word in ten? - -But the desire to make us feel at home has another--I may almost say a -pathetic--side. Thus the _Comité des fêtes_ spares no effort to meet our -supposed necessities, and has not only provided tennis-grounds and -other conveniences for _le sport_, but for the last ten days has been -preparing for a grand _chasse au renard_, as a special compliment, I -am told, to the English visitors. The grand feature of the hunt is a -_recherché_ luncheon in an attractive spot in the forest, at the end -of the run, at which the Mayor presides, and to which the other civic -dignitaries go in full costume, accompanied by a chief huntsman and two -_chasseurs_ with _tridents_--of all strange equipments for a fox-hunt! -For this luncheon the charge is 5 fr.; but, so far as I can learn, you -may join the chase without partaking. The question naturally occurs: -“How if Renard will not run that way, or consent to die within easy -distance of the luncheon?” and the answer of the Mayor would, I suppose, -be Dogberry’s: “Let him go, and thank God you are rid of a knave.” But, -in any case, the _Comité des fêtes_ are prepared for such a mishap, for -they have had four foxes ready for some days, _in a large oven_--of all -places in the world! and one of these will surely be induced to take the -proper course, which is carefully marked out. As two of them have come -from Switzerland, and there cannot be much to occupy or amuse Swiss -foxes in an oven, except quarrelling with their French cousins, I should -doubt as to the condition of the lot on the day of the hunt, even if all -survive to that date. This, I am sorry to say, cannot be fixed as yet, -for it seems that no English visitor has been found who will take a -ticket; so I fear my “course” may be over before the _chasse_ comes -off. In that case I shall always bear a grudge against your lively -contemporary, the _Daily Graphic_, who, it seems, printed an illustrated -account of the _chasse_ of last summer, to which the present abstinence -of the British sportsman to-day is generally attributed. Can we wonder -at the want of understanding between the two peoples when one comes -across such strange pieces of farce as this, meant, I believe, for a -genuine compliment and advance towards good-fellowship? - -I wish I could speak hopefully upon more serious things than the _chasse -au renard_; but in more than one direction things seem to me to be -drifting, or going back, under the Republic. E.g. a friend of mine, -who prefers smoking the cigars he is used to, ordered a box from his -tobacconist in Manchester, who entrusted them to the Continental Parcels -Delivery Company on 15th June. Next day, though notice had been given -of payment of all charges on delivery, they were stopped at the Gare du -Nord, at Paris, where the station-master refused to forward them until -he got an undertaking in writing from my friend to pay all charges. This -was sent at once, but produced no effect for three days, when another -letter arrived--not now from the station-master, but from a person -signing himself “Contributions Agent”--saying that undertaking No. 1 -was not in proper form. Thereupon, undertaking No. 2 is sent; but still -nothing happens, and my friend had almost given up hope of getting his -cigars when he bethought him of advising with a deputy, who was luckily -staying here in the same hotel. That gentleman seemed not at all -surprised, but offered to write to his secretary in Paris to go to -the Gare du Nord and look after the box. The offer was, of course, -thankfully accepted, with the result that the cigars were sent on at -once, with the following bill: “Droit d’entrée, 38 fr. 77 c.; timbre -d’acquit à caution, 7 c.; toile d’emballage--consignation, 40 fr. 27 -c.: total, 79 fr. 11 c.”--which about doubled the original cost. This -instance of the slovenliness (if not worse) of a railway company and the -Customs has been quite eclipsed, however, by the Post Office. Another -friend posted a letter here to his sister in England, but unluckily in -the forenoon, when the next departure was for Bordeaux. To that town, -accordingly, his letter went, and thence to America, whence in due -course--i.e. at the end of three weeks--it reached its destination in -England. Again, a lady here received several dividends more than a -week ago, which she forwarded to her husband in England in a registered -letter. This has never reached him; and the Post-Office officials here -are making inquiries (very leisurely ones) as to what has become of it. -Then the clergyman of the church here, having a payment to make in his -parish in England, sent the money, and got the official receipt several -posts before he received a reminder from the same official (dated a week -earlier than the receipt) that the payment was due; and lastly, _pour -comble_, as they say here, a county J.P. has never received at all the -formal summons from his High Sheriff, sent some weeks since, to serve on -the grand jury at the coming Assizes! Whatever the consequences may be -of utterly ignoring such summons, he has thus incurred them, which, for -all I know, may be equal to the penalties of præmunire. But seriously, I -fear the incubus of the Republican superstition, as you have defined -it, is spreading fast and far in this splendid land. The centralisation -fostered by the Second Empire, and favoured by the Republic for the last -twenty years, seems to have demoralised the national nerve-centre at -Paris under the shadow of the Eiffel Tower--which, - - Like a tall bully, lifts its head and lies, - ---and to be spreading its baleful influence through the Departments. -At any rate, that is the only explanation I can suggest for the marked -deterioration and present flabbiness of all Government departments -with which the foreign visitor comes in contact. I am glad to be able, -however, to record, before closing this, that the registered letter -containing dividend warrants mentioned above has reached its destination -in England. - - - - -Dogs and Flowers, La Bourboule, 24th July. - -During the greater part of our stay, the theatre here was devoted to -comic and other operatic performances, which I did not care for, and so -scarcely glanced at the play-bills, posted up daily in our hotel; and -was not even tempted by the announcement of “une seule représentation -extraordinaire” of Le Songe d’une Nuit d’Eté, as I did not like to have -my idea of A Midsummer Night’s Dream disordered by a French metrical -version. When too late, I sorely regretted it, as, had I even read -the caste, I should have gone, and been able to give you a trustworthy -report,--for the three principal characters were William Shakespeare--by -M. Dereims, of the opera (who would sing his great song of _La Reine de -Saba_)--Falstaff, and Queen Elizabeth! Next morning I catechised a young -Englishman, whose report was, as near as I can recollect, as follows: -“Well, there wasn’t much of our _Midsummer Night’s Dream_ in it, -no Oberon and Titania, or Bottom, or all that fairy business. Queen -Elizabeth and one of her ladies went out at night disguised, to a sort -of Casino or Cremorne Gardens” [what would Secretary Cecil have said to -such an escapade?], “and coming away they met Shakespeare and Falstaff, -and had a good time; and Falstaff sang a song which brought the house -down. Then, as the Queen falls in love with Shakespeare, they get some -girl to marry him right away.” One more lost opportunity, and to think -that I shall probably never get another chance!-- - - There is a flower that shines so bright, - - They call it marigold-a: - - And he that wold not when he might, - - He shall not’ when he wold-a. - -As you are fond of dog-lore, here is a sample from Auvergne. Just -opposite our hotel lives the young Scotch (not Irish, as I think -I called him last week) doctor. His wife owns a clever pug, whose -friendship any self-respecting dog would be anxious, I should say, -to cultivate. One of the rather scratch-pack gathered for the coming -fox-chase, who wandered as they pleased about the town, seems to have -shared my view, for every morning, between _café_ and _déjeûner_, he -came and paid a visit of about five minutes to Mrs. Gilchrist’s pug, in -the doctor’s vestibule, always open to man and dog. At the end of his -call, he trotted off down the avenue to whatever other business he might -have in hand. Now, his visits could not have been amatory, as both -are of the masculine sex, nor could they have been gastronomic, for he -invariably refused the food which Mrs. Gilchrist offered him. What other -conclusion is possible than that he came to talk over the gossip afloat -in the dog-world of La Bourboule? - -Lastly, as to the excursions. These are numerous, and very interesting -in all ways, for you drive through great, sad pine-forests (in which I -was astonished to see many of the trees gray with the weeping moss which -makes the Louisiana and Texas forests so melancholy) and breezy heaths -all aglow with wild flowers, getting every now and then indescribably -glorious glimpses of the rich plain which stretches away from this -backbone of Central France to the Alps. The flora is quite beyond me, -but I recognised many varieties of heart’s-ease, fox-gloves, gentians, -amongst them an exquisite blue variety, and the air was often scented -with meadow-sweet or wild-thyme. Then almost every mountain-top is -crowned by a peculiarly shaped block of dark rock, which looks as if -some huge saurian, disgusted with a changing world, had crawled up there -to die and get petrified. They must, however, have been even bigger -than the _Atlanlosaurus immanis_, the biggest of the family yet found, I -believe. I well remember the delight of Dr. Agnew, of New York, when the -American geologists came upon its thigh bone, two feet longer than that -of any European monster. It had become agate, and I have a scarf-pin -made of a polished fragment, and presented to me by the triumphant -doctor. I cannot tell you what these rocks really are, as I made no -ascent, preferring nowadays, like dear Lowell, “to make my ascents by -telescope.” - -But the human interest of the excursions, as usual, far exceeds the -botanical or geological. The chief of these is the “Tour d’Auvergne,” - the seat of the Count who enlisted to repel invasion, but never would -take a commission from Republic or Napoleon, and died in battle, the -“premier grenadier de la France.” There is nothing left of his tower -except the foundations, and a dungeon on the high rock, on which a -native woman sells photographs and relics, quite as genuine, I should -say, as most such. Opposite, across a deep valley, rises another rock -crowned by a chapel, which is approached by a steep path, up which once -a year goes a procession, past the seven stations, at each of which -there is a crucifix, and on the lowest a figure the size of life. -Christianity, they say, has died down very low in Auvergne. I should -doubt it, as I saw no sign of defacement, either here or on any of the -roadside crosses, which are everywhere. I fear we could hardly say as -much if we had them--as I wish we had--on every English high-road. On -the walls of the village which clusters round the side of the keep, -a placard (of which I enclose a copy) interested me much. The three -Municipal Councillors there give their reasons for resigning their seats -on the Council. On the whole, I think they were wrong, and should have -stayed and “toughed it out.” I should like to know how it strikes you. -You will see that the poster bears a stamp. Might not our Chancellor -of the Exchequer raise a tidy sum that way? What a lump Pears, Hudson, -Epps, or Van Houten and Co. would have to pay, and earn the thanks of a -grateful country too! But I must not try your patience or space further, -so will only note the Roman remains at Mont Dore, another health-resort -of the Dordogne Valley, four miles above La Bourboule, which are worth -going all the way to see, as I would advise any of your readers to do -who are looking out for an interesting countryside, with as fine air as -any in the world, in which to spend their coming holidays. - - - - -Dutch Boys, The Hague, 1st May 1894. - -Much may be said both for and against breaking one’s good resolutions, -but no one, I should think, will deny the merit of making them. Well, -sir, before starting for my Whitsuntide jaunt this year, I resolved -firmly that nothing should induce me to send you any more letters -over this signature. Have I not been trying your patience, and the -long-suffering of your readers any time these thirty years, with -my crude first impressions of cities and their inhabitants, from -Constantinople to the Upper Missouri? “Surely,” I said to myself, -“sat prata biberunt.” What can young England in the last decade of the -century--who enjoy, or at any rate read, _Dodo, and The Fabian Essays, -and The Heavenly Twins_--care or want to know about the notions of an -old fogey, whose faiths--or fads, as they would call them--on social and -political problems were formed, if not stereotyped, in the first half? -What, then, has shaken this wise resolve? You might guess for a week and -never come within miles of the answer. It was the sight of a group of -Dutch boys playing leap-frog in front of this hotel, and the contrast -which came unbidden into my head between the chances of Dutch and -English boys in this matter, and the different use they make of them. - -In front of this hotel lies the large open space, now planted with -trees, and about the size of Grosvenor Square, which is called -“Tournooiveld,” and was in the Middle Ages the tilt-yard of the doughty -young Dutch candidates for knighthood. The portion of this square -immediately in front of the hotel, about 40 yards deep and 150 broad, is -marked off from the rest by a semicircular row of granite posts, rather -over three feet in height, and three to four yards apart, two of them -being close to lampposts, but the line otherwise unbroken. No chain -connects these posts, and they have no spike on the top of them. As -I stood at the door the morning after my arrival, admiring the fine -linden-trees in full foliage, enter four Dutch boys from the left, -who, without a word, broke at once into single file, and did “follow -my leader” over all the posts till they got to the end on the extreme -right, and disappeared quietly down a side street. Well, you will say, -wouldn’t four English boys have done just the same % and I answer, Yes, -certainly, so far as playing leap-frog over the posts goes; but they -would have to come out here to find such a row of posts in the middle -of a city. At any rate, in the city with which I am best acquainted in -England, the few posts there fit for leap-frog are connected with chains -and have spikes on their tops. Moreover, do I not pass daily up a flight -of steps, fenced on either side by a broad iron banister, which was -obviously intended by Providence for passing boys to get a delicious -slide down 1 But, sir, no English boy on his way to school or on an -errand has ever slid down those banisters, for the British Bumble has -had prohibitory knobs placed on them at short intervals for no possible -reason except to prevent boys sliding down. The faith that all material -things should be made to serve the greatest good of the greatest number -is surely as widely held in England as in Holland, and yet, here are the -tops of these Dutch posts _culotté_, if I may say so, worn smooth and -polished by the many generations of boys who have enjoyed leap-frog over -them, while the British posts and banisters have given pleasure to no -human being but Bumble from the day they were put up. - -But it was not of the Dutch posts but the Dutch boys that I intended to -write, for they certainly struck me as differing in two particulars from -our boys, thus. Two of the posts, as I have said, are so close to the -lamp-posts that you can’t vault over them without coming full butt -against the lamp-post on the other side. When the leader came to the -first of them he did not pass it, as I expected, but just vaulted on to -the top, and sat there while he passed his leg between the-post and the -lamp-post, and then jumped down and went on to the next. Every one of -the rest followed his example gravely and without a word; whereas, had -they been English boys, there would have been a bolt past the leader as -soon as he was seated, and a race with much shouting for the lead over -the remaining pillars. I have been studying the Dutch boy ever since, -and am convinced that he is the most silent and most “thorough” of any -of his species I have ever come across; and the boy is father to the -man in both qualities. On Whit-Monday this city was crowded, all the -citizens and country-folk from the suburbs being in the streets and -gardens; the galleries and museums, oddly enough, being closed for the -day. Walking about amongst them the silence was really rather provoking. -At last I took to counting the couples we met who were obviously just -married, or courting, and ought at any rate to have had something to -say to each other. Out of eleven couples in one street, only one were -talking, though all looked quite happy and content. It is the same -everywhere. As we neared the landing-place at the Hook of Holland, our -steamer’s bows were too far out, and a rope had to be thrown from the -shore. There were at least twenty licensed porters waiting for us, in -clean white jackets,--one of these, without a word, just coiled a rope -and flung it. It was missed twice by the sailor in our bows, and fell -into the water, out of which the thrower drew it, and just coiled and -threw it again without a word of objurgation or remonstrance, and the -third time successfully. Not one of the white-jacketed men who stood -round had uttered a syllable of advice or comment; but what a Babel -would have arisen in like case at the pier-heads of Calais or Dieppe, or -for that matter at Dover or Liverpool. No wonder that William the Silent -is the typical hero of Dutchmen; there are two statues of him in the -best sites in this city, and half a dozen portraits in the best places -in the galleries. Hosea Biglow’s-- - - Talk, if you keep it, pays its keep, - - But gabble’s the short road to ruin. - - ’Tis gratis (gals half price), but cheap - - At no price when it hinders doing,-- - -ought to be put into Dutch as the national motto. Then as to -thoroughness. Take the most notable example of it first. We have been -driving all round for some days, and have only once come to a slope up -which our horse had to walk. When we got to the top, there was the sea -on the other side, obviously even to the untrained eye at a considerably -higher level than the green fields through which we had just been -driving. Of course it is an old story, the Dutchman’s long war with the -German Ocean, but one never realises it till one comes to drive uphill -to the sea, and then it fairly takes one’s breath away. I was deeply -impressed, and took advantage of a chance that offered of talking the -subject over with an expert, who, like most Dutchmen, happily speaks -English fluently. Far from expressing any anxiety as to the land already -won, he informed me that they are seriously contemplating operations -against the Zuider Zee, and driving him permanently out of Holland! And -I declare I believe they will do it, and so win the right, alone, so far -as I know, amongst the nations, of saying to the sea: “Hitherto shalt -thou come and no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” - One more example,--their thoroughness as to cleanliness. Not only -the pavements of the main thoroughfares, but all the side-streets are -thoroughly well washed and cleansed daily. When you walk out in the -early morning you might eat your breakfast anywhere with perfect comfort -on the sidewalks. We had to look for more than a quarter of an hour to -find a bit of paper in the streets, and the windows in the back streets, -even of houses to let, are rubbed bright and polished to a point which -must be the despair of the passing English housewife. Why are Dutch -house-maidens so incomparably more diligent and clean than English? Can -it be their Puritan bringing-up? In short, ten days’ residence here--I -have never before done anything but rush through the country on my way -east--seems likely to make me review old prejudices, and to exclaim, “If -I were not an Englishman, I would be a Dutchman!” One may read and enjoy -Motley without really appreciating this silent and “thorough” people, -or understanding how it came to pass that by them, in this tiny and -precarious corner of Europe, “the great deliverance was wrought out.” - - - - -“Poor Paddy-Land!”--I--6th Oct. 1894. - -Six weeks ago, when I was considering where I should go for my autumn -holiday, some remarks of yours decided me “to give poor Paddy-land a -turn” (the phrase is not mine, but that of the first housemaid I came -across in Dublin). When one has been talking and thinking for the last -eight years of little else than that “distressful country,” it certainly -seemed a fair suggestion that one might as well go and look at it when -one got the chance. So I have scrambled round from Dublin to Kerry, and -from Cork to the Giant’s Causeway, and can bear hearty witness to the -soundness of your advice. For a flying visit of a few weeks, though -insufficient for any serious study of a people or country, may greatly -help one in judging both of them from one’s ordinary standpoint at home. - -Of course, the first object of an Englishman who has not lost his head -must be to ascertain whether the Irish people really long for a separate -Parliament, and a severance of all connection with the rest of -the Empire. Well, sir, I was prepared to find that the men in the -street--car-drivers, boatmen, waiters, and fellow-travellers on the -railways--would, to a great extent, adapt their opinions to whatever -they might think would please their questioner, but certainly was quite -unprepared for the absolute unanimity with which I was assured that Home -Rule is dead. It is only the American-Irish, and especially the “Biddys -of New York,” so my informants protested, “who want to break up the -Union.” I was warned, however, as to the man in the street. “You must -remember that our people are full of imagination, and you must take -off a large discount from all they tell you; but you’ll always find -a groundwork of fact at the bottom of their stories.” A good piece of -advice, which a professional friend in Dublin started me with, and which -I found to be true enough, except that where local politics or the land -came in, the groundwork of fact was apt to be too minute to be easily -discerned. Take, as an example, a story which was told me on the spot -by a thoroughly trustworthy witness. Towards the end of Mr. Forster’s -Chief-Secretaryship a sensation message was flashed to New York that a -Government stronghold had been taken by the Invincibles, the garrison -having surrendered with all the guns and stores. This announcement -produced a liberal response in dollars from the other side, particularly -from “the Biddys of New York.” Now for the “groundwork of fact” - underlying this superstructure. The Government have, it seems, on -their hands a number of Martello towers on the southern coast which are -useless for military purposes. A band of some dozen “bhoys,” headed by -a notorious Invincible, came out of Cork one summer evening and summoned -the garrison of one of these Martello towers. The garrison (an -elderly pensioner), who was at tea with his wife and children, wisely -surrendered at discretion; whereupon the patriots took possession of -the single cannon and some old muskets and ammunition, which latter they -carried off next morning, when they abandoned the tower and cannon on -the approach of the police. But though the groundwork of fact as to the -condition of the Home Rule agitation may be infinitesimal, there is very -serious apprehension still on the Land Question, upon which I found -it difficult to draw the man in the street. I was fortunate enough, -however, to come across several resident landlords and professional men, -both Catholic and Protestant, who, one and all, look with the gravest -distrust at the operation of recent land legislation. The Commissioners -who administer these Acts have, unfortunately, the strongest interest in -prolonging the present state of uncertainty. Their appointments will end -with the cessation of appeals by tenants for further reductions of -rent, which, under the circumstances, does not seem likely to come about -before the landlords’ interest has been pared down bit by bit till it -touches prairie-value. The present utter confusion and uncertainty is -at any rate a striking object-lesson as to the dangers of meddling with -freedom of contract by Acts of Parliament. - -When I landed in Ireland, I was under the impression--for which I think -you, sir, and perhaps the late Lord Beaconsfield, with his dictum -about the “melancholy ocean,” were responsible--that there is a note of -sadness underlying the superficial gaiety of the Irish character, as is -the case with most Celts. Well, whether it be from natural incapacity, -and that each observer only brings with him a limited power of seeing -below the surface in such matters, in any case I wholly failed to -discern any such characteristic in Central or South Ireland, though -there may be a trace of it perhaps in the North, where, by the way, -they are not Celts. On the contrary, the remark of a friendly and -communicative Killarney carman, “Shure, sir, we always try to get on -the sunny side of the bush, like the little birds,” seemed to me -transparently true. And next to this desire for the sunny side of the -bush, a happy-go-lucky, hand-to-mouth temper struck me as the prevailing -characteristic, as Sir Walter saw it when he wrote “Sultan Solomon’s -Search after Happiness.” Look at the national vehicle, the outside -car--far more national and popular than our hansom. Did any race ever -invent a conveyance so easy to mount and dismount from, or which offers -the same chances of being shot off at every street corner or turn in the -road? If any reader doubts, let him go over to the next horse-show at -Dublin, and watch the crowd breaking up at the end of the show. The -roads into the city are certainly unusually broad, but the sight of a -dozen jaunting-cars coming along, two or three abreast, as hard as their -horses can trot, the driver lolling carelessly, with a loose rein, on -one side, and a couple of Irishmen on the other, is a sight to make -the Saxon “sit up,” though he may be accustomed to the fastest and most -reckless West End hansoms. Like one of your recent correspondents, I -could distinguish natives from visitors, as each of the latter had a -tight hold of the bar--a precaution which the native scorned. I managed -to extract from an enthusiastic admirer--a young Irish subaltern who -had ridden on them all his life--the confession that he had left a car -involuntarily (or, _Anglid_, had been shot out) three times in the last -eighteen months; but then, as he explained, he always fell on his feet! -I was touched again and again by the almost pathetic craving for -English appreciation,--quite as strong, I think, as, and certainly -much pleasanter than, that of our American cousins. I was exploring the -Killarney Lakes, in the first-rate four-oared boat of a cadet of the -MacGrillicuddy family, who, with his English wife, exercises a very -delightful hospitality almost under the shadow of “The Reeks,” which -bear his name. It was a perfect day, the changing lights and tints on -mountains and woods and lakes being more delicately lovely than any I -could recall, except, perhaps, at the head of the Lake of Geneva. We -had been talking of the Scotch lakes, and I could not help saying, “Why, -this beats Loch Katrine and Ellen’s Isle out of the field.” - -“Ah,” said our host, with a sigh, “if only Sir Walter Scott had been an -Irishman!” and then he went on to speak of the neglect of Ireland by the -Royal Family and English governing people--e.g. Lord Beaconsfield had -never set foot in her, and Mr. Gladstone only once, for an hour or -two, to receive the freedom of Dublin. But why had the Queen made her -favourite home in Scotland, and left poor Ireland out in the cold? -Why did the English flock to Scotch rivers and moors and golf-links in -crowds every autumn when only a stray sportsman or tourist found his way -to Killarney or Connemara or Donegal? It was all owing to the Wizard of -the North, who had made Scotland enchanted ground. - -Without ignoring other and deeper causes, I think one cannot but feel -what a difference it would have made if Sir Walter had been Irish. The -Siege of Derry is a more heroic and pathetic story than any in Scotch -annals of the struggle for the Stuarts, and the genius which has made -us intimate friends of the Baron of Bradwardine and Dugald Dalgetty, of -Dandie Dinmont, Edie Ochiltree, Jeanie Deans, Cuddie and Mause Headrigg, -and a dozen other Scotch men and women, would surely have found as good -materials for character-painting among the Irish peasantry. But the -speculation, though interesting, is too big to deal with at the end of a -paper. - - - - -“Poor Paddy-Land!”--II - -I suppose every one expects to find Ireland the land of the -unlooked-for. I did, at any rate, but was by no means prepared for -several of the surprises which greeted me. For instance, the best -arranged, and for its size and scope the most interesting, National -Gallery I have ever seen. It is only forty years old (incorporated in -1854), a date since which one would have thought it scarcely possible to -get together genuine specimens of all the great schools of art, from the -well “picked-over” marts of England and the Continent. But the feat has -been accomplished, mainly, I believe, by the entire devotion and -fine taste and judgment of the late director, Mr. Henry E. Doyle. His -untimely death in the spring of this year has left a blank, social and -artistic, which it will be hard to fill; but happily his great work for -Irish art was done, and all that his successors will have to do will be -to follow his lead faithfully. Irish Art owes much to his family, for he -was the son of H. B., and the younger brother of the immortal “Dicky,” - while, I believe, Mr. Conan Doyle is his nephew. - -But it is not the general collection of pictures, remarkable as that is, -which differentiates the Irish from other national galleries known to -me. It is the happy arrangement which has set apart a fourth of the -whole space for a collection of portraits, and authentic historical -pictorial records, comprising not only the portraits of eminent Irishmen -and Irishwomen, but also of statesmen and others who were politically -or socially connected with Ireland, or whose lives serve in any way -to illustrate her history, or throw light on her social or literary or -artistic records. I think I may safely venture the assertion--for I -spent the greater part of two afternoons in this historical and portrait -department--that there is Scarcely a man or woman, from the time of -Elizabeth to that of O’Connell and Lord Melbourne, of whom one would be -glad to know more, with whom one does not leave it, feeling far better -acquainted. And then they are so admirably and often pathetically -grouped, e.g. Charles I., Cromwell, and R. Cromwell, on a line, all full -of character, and Strafford hard by, with the look of “thorough” on his -brow and mouth as no other portrait I have ever seen has given. Then -there are “Erin’s High Ormonde,” Sir Walter Raleigh, by Zuccaro, -painted between his two imprisonments, and coming down later, -Lords Wellesley and Hastings, and groups of great nobles and -Lords-Lieutenant. For fighting men, William III. as a boy; Walker, the -defender of Derry; the Duke, the Lawrences, Lord Gough, and a score -of other gallant Irishmen. The terrible Dean stands out amongst the -literary men, and near him Sir R. Steele and Sterne, and (_longo -intervallo_, except on shelves) Tom Moore, Croker, Lever, etc. Then come -the “patriots” of all schools: Lord E. Fitzgerald, and Grattan, and E. -Hudson, Secretary of the United Irishmen in 1784; Wolfe Tone, and -Daniel O’Connell; half a dozen Ponsonbys of different ranks, and several -pictures of Burke, one of which especially (said to be by Angelica -Kauffmann) is, to my mind, quite invaluable. Burke stands upright, his -side-face towards you, sublime, as he looked, I am sure, when he was -making his immortal speech at Bristol. By his side, at right angles, -so that you get his full face, is Charles Fox, one hand on Burke’s -shoulder, the other on a table on which he is leaning. You can hear him -saying as plainly as if you were there one hundred years ago, “Now, my -dear Edmund, if you say that in the House, you’ll upset the coach.” Fox -has evidently dined well, and Burke is fasting from all but indignation. -The portraits of women are as interesting, such as Miss Farren, -afterwards Lady Derby; Mrs. Norton, by Watts, which is worth a visit to -Dublin to see, etc. But I must not run on, and will only note one lesson -I carried away. There are two portraits, and three engravings from -portraits, by N. Hone, R.A., an Irishman, but one of our original Royal -Academicians. You will remember what Peter Pindar says of that painter -in his _Odes to the Royal Academicians_”:-- - - And as for Mr. Nathan Hone, - - In portraits he’s as much alone - - As in his landscape stands the unrivalled Claude. - - Of pictures I have seen enough, - - Vile, tawdry, execrable stuff, - - But none so bad as thine, I vow to God. - -I have always till now maintained that Peter, with all his cynicism, was -the best art critic, the Ruskin, shall we say, of his time. Now I give -him up. N. Hone was no doubt quarrelsome and disagreeable, but he was a -very considerable portrait-painter. - -I had noted Derry as one of the places to be seen on account of the -siege, and accordingly went there, to get another startling sensation. -Like most other folk, I suppose, I had always looked on the story as -interesting and heroic, and had wondered in a vague way how some 30,000 -men, commanded by a distinguished French soldier, and a considerable -part of them at any rate well-equipped regular troops, could have been -kept at bay for ten months by a mere handful of regulars, backed by the -’prentice boys of the town and neighbourhood. Religious zeal was no -doubt a strong factor on the side of the town, and Parson Walker, a born -leader of men, “with a bugle in his throat,” like “Bobs.” But when one -remembers that no provision had been made for a siege, that many of -the leading men were for opening the gates, and indeed that the French -officers and James’s deputy were actually within 300 yards in their -boats, to accept the surrender, when the ’prentices rushed down and -shut and manned the gates, and then looks at the scene on the spot, one -is really dumbfounded, and wanders back in thought to King Hezekiah and -Jerusalem. From the Cathedral, which dominates the city, you can trace -distinctly the line of the old walls, and can hardly believe your eyes. -The space enclosed cannot be more than a quarter of a mile in length, by -some 300 yards in breadth (I could not get exact measurements), and in -it, including garrison and the country folk who had flocked in, were -more than 30,000 people. It was bombarded for eight months, during -at least the last four of which famine and pestilence were raging. -No wonder that the parish registers tell of more than 9000 burials -in consecrated ground, while “the practice of burial in the backyards -became unavoidable!” Where can such another story be found in authentic -history? Parson Walker, let us say, fairly earned his monument. - -I must own to grievous disappointment as to the farming in Ulster. All -through the South and Centre I had seen the hay in the fields in small -cocks in September, and the splendid ripe crops of oats and barley -uncut, or, if cut, left in sheaf, or being carried in a leisurely -fashion, which was quite provoking, while tall, yellow ragweed was -growing in most of the pastures in ominous abundance. That will all be -altered, I thought, when I cross “Boyne Water.” Not a bit of it! Here -and there, indeed, I saw a good rick-yard and clean fields, but scarcely -oftener than about Cork or Killarney, and no one seemed to mind any -more than the pure southern Celts. One man said, when I mourned over -the ragweed three feet or four feet high, that he did not mind it, as it -showed the land was good! As to leaving hay in cock, well that was -the custom--they would get it into stack after harvest, any way before -Christmas; as to dawdling over cutting and carrying, well, with prices -at present rates, what use in hurrying? There was a comic song called -“Clear the Kitchen,” popular half a century ago, which ran-- - - I saw an old man come riding by. - - Says I, “Old man, your horse will die”; - - Says he, “If he dies I’ll tan his skin, - - And if he lives I’ll ride him agin.” - -It fits the Irish temper, North and South, pleasant enough to travel -amongst, but bad, I should think, to live with. - - - - -“Panem et Circenses”, Rome, 21 st April 1895. - -I have been asking myself at least a dozen times a day during the -last fortnight, why Rome should be (to me, at any rate) the city of -surprises, far more than Athens or Constantine, for instance, or -any other city or scene of world-wide interest in Europe or America. -Jerusalem and the Nile cities I have never seen (and fear I never shall -now). Surely, to what I take to be the majority of your readers, who -have gone through, as I have, the orthodox educational mill--public -school and college--precisely the contrary should be true. We spent no -small part of from six to ten years of the most impressionable time of -our lives in studying the story of the Mistress of the Old World, from -Romulus and Remus to the Anto-nines. Even the idlest and most careless -of us could scarcely have passed his “greats” without knowing his -geography well enough to point out on the map the position of each of -the seven hills, the Forum, the Janiculum, the Appian Way, the Arch of -Titus, the Colosseum, etc., and must have formed some kind of notion -in his own mind of what each of them looked like. At any rate, I had -no excuse for not knowing my ancient Rome better than I knew any modern -city, both as to its geography and the politics, beliefs, and habits -of its citizens; for I was for two years in the pupil-room of a teacher -(Bishop Cotton) who spared no pains, not only on the texts of Livy, -Horace, Sallust, and Juvenal, and the geography, but in making the Rome -of the last years of the Republic and the first Caesars live again for -us. For instance, he would collect for us all the best engravings then -to be had (it was before the days of photographs) of Rome, and show us -what remained of the old buildings and monuments, and where the Papal -city had encroached and superseded them; and again, would take infinite -pains to explain the changes in the ordinary life of the Roman citizen, -which had been creeping on since the end of the third Punic war, when -her last formidable rival went down, and the struggle between patrician -and plebeian had time and opportunity to develop and work itself out, -till it ended in the Augustan age, when the will of the Cæsar remained -the sole ultimate law, in Rome, and over the whole Empire. Of course the -explanation of the phrase “Panem et circenses,” and the growth of -the system, in the shape of public feastings, shows, baths, and other -entertainments, with which each successful Tribune or General, as he -came to the front, and the Cæsars after them, tried to bribe and sway -the mob of the Forum, formed no small part of this instruction. One item -of the list will best illustrate my text--that of public baths--which -came most directly home to me, as I was devoted to swimming in those -days, and so had great sympathy with the poor citizen of Imperial Rome -who desired to have baths in the best form and without payment. - -I do not know that there is any trustworthy evidence as to the public -baths of Rome before Imperial times, but we can estimate pretty -accurately how the case stood for the poor Roman in the first and second -centuries A.D. The best preserved of these are the Baths of Caracalla, -in which sixteen hundred bathers could be accommodated at once. -The enclosed area was 360 yards square, or considerably larger than -Lincoln’s Inn Fields; but this included a course for foot-races, in -which, I suppose, the younger bathers contended when fresh from the -delights of hot and cold baths, while their elders looked on from the -porticoes adjoining. The bathing establishment proper, however, was 240 -yards in length, by 124 yards in width, in which the divisions of -the “tepidaria,” “calidaria,” and “frigidaria,” are still confidently -pointed out in Baedeker, and attested by guides if you like to hire -them. But the part which interested me most, apart from the huge masses -of wall still standing, was the depression in the floor, which is said -to have been the swimming-bath, and which is at least twice as large as -those of the Holborn and Lambeth baths, the two largest in London in my -time, put together. - -The remains of the walls are just astounding, eight feet and ten feet -thick, and (I should say) in several places fifty feet high; the thin -Roman bricks, and the mortar in which they are built, as hard as they -were in the second century. I wish I could feel any confidence that any -of our London brickwork would show as well even a century hence. When -the floors were all covered with mosaic pavement, of which small pieces -now carefully preserved still remain, and the brickwork of the walls -was faced with marble, and the statues which have been found here and -removed to museums, still stood round the central fountain and in the -courts, my imagination quite fails to picture what the baths must have -looked like. But the Baths of Caracalla, though best preserved, are -not by any means the largest. Those of Diocletian, on the Quirinal and -partly facing the railway station, were almost twice as big, for the -circumference of the bath buildings was about 2000 yards, or half as -large again as the Baths of Caracalla, while they would accommodate (it -is said) three thousand bathers at once. It is even more impossible, -however, to reconstruct these baths in one’s fancy than those of -Caracalla, for the church of St. Bernardo occupies one domed corner of -the area, and a prison another corner; while a convent, with the Church -of St. Maria degli Angeli attached--built by Michael Angelo by order -of Pius IV.--stands over what was the “tepidarium.” There is still, -however, space enough left for the large square, as big as Bedford -Square, and surrounded by cloisters said to be also the work of Michael -Angelo, in which stand a number of the most interesting statues and -busts, and architectural fragments lately exhumed. - -I have by no means exhausted the opportunities enjoyed by the Roman -citizen under the Antonines for getting a satisfactory, not to say a -luxurious, wash in the Roman summer, but must turn aside for a minute to -tell you of an interesting little scene which I saw outside on leaving -the Baths of Diocletian. Along the bottom of the old ruined wall still -standing, and looking as firm as that of Caracalla, for about fifty -yards, earth and rubbish has been allowed to accumulate to the height of -twelve or fourteen feet. This dirt-heap covers some twenty feet of the -open space between the old wall and the footway, and, the face of it -having been trampled hard, forms a steep slope, of which the Roman -urchin of to-day seems to have taken possession, and thereon thoroughly -to enjoy himself after his own fashion. This is a very different way -from that of our street-boys, if I may judge by what I saw in passing. A -group of some dozen little ragged urchins--four with bare feet--were -at high jinks as I came up; and this was their pastime. The biggest of -them, a sturdy boy of (perhaps) eleven or twelve, stood at the bottom of -the steep slope, facing the wall, with his feet firmly set, and his arms -wide open. The rest, who were at the top of the slope, against the wall, -ran down one after another and threw themselves into his arms, clasping -him round the neck, and getting a good hug before he dropped them. The -object seemed to be (so far as I could see) to throw him over backwards, -but he stood his ground firmly, only staggering a little once or twice -during the two rounds which I was able to watch. I was obliged then to -leave, wondering, and debating in my mind what would be the result of -such a game if tried by our street boys in a London suburb. - -To go back to the Baths, there are remains of three more which must have -been no unworthy rivals of Caracalla’s and Diocletian’s--viz. those of -Constantine, Agrippa, and Titus. The first were also on the Quirinal, -and are said to have occupied the greater part of the present Piazza del -Quirinale, including the site of the Royal Palace. But as all that is -left of them is a fragment of the old boundary-wall here and there, one -can form no notion of their size or shape. One may, however, judge -of their character by magnificent colossal marble statues of the -“Horse-tamers,” which are known to have stood one on each side of the -principal entrance, and are believed to remain almost in the place where -they stand to-day. The Baths of Agrippa lay behind the Pantheon, but -a fluted column and ruined dome are all that remain of them in the -neighbouring streets, “Pumbella” and “Cumbella.” Lastly, there were -the Baths of Titus, begun by him in A.D. 80, on the Esquiline, which -included the sites of Mæcenas’ Villa and the Golden Palace of Nero, -which (I suppose) he must have demolished to make room for them; but the -tradition as to these ruins seems even more vague than that of any of -the other baths. I think you must allow that so far I have proved my -case, that Rome is the city of surprises. - -Ever since my “Roman baths’ round,” the contrast of Imperial Rome and -our London has been popping up. Why have not we, at any rate, one or two -public baths on something like the old Roman scale? Did they really let -any Roman citizen bathe free of charge? Could we possibly do that? -and how? Well, after all, it only wants a Cæsar to work the “panem et -circenses” trick astutely. And have not we got at last our equivalent -for Nero or Titus in our County Council? True, our many-headed Cæsar has -not the tribute of a conquered world to draw on, or an unlimited supply -of prisoners of war, slaves, and poor Christians to set to the work. But -has not he the rates of London at his mercy--not a bad equivalent--and -the Collectivist Trade-Unionist, who may possibly be relied on to do as -fair a day’s work at the scale-wages as the unpaid slave or -Christian did for Titus? Well, I do not know that I should protest -vigorously--only I am no longer a London ratepayer. - - - - -Rome--Easter Day - -We get our London papers here as regularly as you do, only forty-eight -hours later, and I see that readers at home have been able to follow -the course of the services in St. Peter’s and the Roman Churches -during Passion Week about as well as we who are on the spot, and so -to appreciate the thoroughness which the priesthood, from cardinals -downwards, for I am sorry to say the Pope is still unable to take his -usual part, throw into the attempt to reproduce the supreme drama of -our race, so far as this can be done, day by day, almost hour by hour. -I have not, however, noticed any mention of the “Tenebræ” at St. John -Lateran, a service of rather more than an hour, from 4.30 to 5.30, on -the afternoon of Good Friday, when the last words have fallen from the -cross, and Joseph of Arimathæa, with the faithful women, has borne away -the scarred and bleeding body of the Lord of Life to his own grave, in -which no man has yet lain-- - - All the toil, the sorrow done, - - All the battle fought and won, - -as Arthur Stanley says, in one of the noblest hymns in the English -language. We had the good fortune the day before to meet one of the -Monsignori, an old friend, formerly a hard-working and successful London -incumbent, who suggested that we should go, and to whom I shall always -feel grateful for the advice. We accordingly were at the door of that -splendid, but to my mind too sumptuously decorated church, punctually -at 4.30. The procession had already reached the chancel, and were taking -their allotted places. Most of your readers will probably be familiar -with the church, but for those who are not, I may say that the chancel -is wider, I think, than that in any of our cathedrals, and that the -whole space from the high altar to the solid marble rails--about three -and a half feet high, which divide the chancel from the rest of the -church--is open, with the sole exception of the row of stalls which run -along each sidewall, and which are reserved for, and were now filled by, -priests. For this particular service, however (and for this only, as I -was told), a row of chairs was placed just within the chancel-rails, -for the Monsignori and other priests of the Pope’s household, who were -already seated, all in deep black, with their faces to the altar and -their backs to the congregation. They remained seated during the whole -service (though several of the priests from the side-stalls stepped -down at intervals and took part in the service), thus, it seemed to me, -emphasising the division between priests and people, and impressing -on us beyond chancel-rails, the fact that we were there rather as -sightseers, spectators of a solemn ceremony, than joint-sharers in an -act of worship. - -When we arrived the service had scarcely commenced, though the organ was -pealing solemnly through the vast church; but the whole of the space in -front of the chancel-rails was already filled by a dense crowd. Many of -those who were in front, close to the chancel-rails, knelt, leaning -on the rails, but by no means all, and the rest stood--a noteworthy -assembly. For there were at least as many men as women, and of all -classes. It is not easy nowadays to recognise rank by dress or bearing; -but there were certainly a considerable minority of well-dressed, -well-to-do people, mixed with soldiers in half a dozen different -uniforms (as I was glad to see), artisans, peasants, men and women in -force, the latter generally leading a child or two by the hand, with -a sprinkling of young men, preparing, I suppose by their dress, for -priests’ orders, who for the most part had books in which they followed -the service attentively,--no easy task under the surrounding conditions. -For though the front ranks, two or three deep next the chancel-rails, -were for the most part stationary, the great mass behind was constantly -moving about and talking in low tones,--not irreverently, but rather as -they would be in England at any large gathering where they could take no -part themselves in the performance, but felt that it was the right thing -to be there, and that they must not interfere with the minority, who -seemed to understand and appreciate what was going on. I was not one -of these latter, as I do not understand music, and had no book of the -words; though I was quite sensible that the pathos, chequered with -occasional bursts of triumph, and rendered by exquisite tenors and boys’ -voices, was equal to any music I had ever heard. Moreover, the sight -of the splendidly dressed priests, moving frequently about before the -altar, without any reason so far as I could see, and the swinging of -censers, the clouds of incense, and gestures to which I could attach no -meaning, inclined me to get out of the crowd. With this view I -looked about for my companion, who, I found, had managed to reach the -altar-rails. So in order that we might be sure to meet at the end of the -service, I got quietly back to the door by which we had entered, where -I could hear the music and voices perfectly, though out of sight of the -chancel. Here I resolved to wait, and at once became much interested in -the people who were constantly passing in or leaving the church. Soon I -remarked that almost all of the former, especially the peasant men and -women with children, turned to the right and disappeared for a minute -or two before going on to join the crowd in front of the chancel. So I -followed, and can scarcely say how much I was impressed by what I saw. -In a small side-chapel, near the entrance, which was their destination, -dimly lighted, a crucifix with a life-sized figure of our Lord upon it -was lying on a stone couch raised some two feet from the floor. There -was no priest in charge, only two bright little choristers (I suppose) -in their white gowns; and perfect silence reigned in the chapel by the -entrance of which I stood and saw several men and women kneeling. They -got up one by one, and approaching the figure dropped again on their -knees, and, stooping, kissed, some the nail-prints in the hands or feet, -some the spear-wound in the side, but none the face. The most touching -sight was the fathers or mothers when they rose from their knees lifting -the children and teaching them to kiss the wounds. I stood there for -at least twenty minutes, until the end of the service in fact, and must -have seen at least a hundred men, women, and children enter. Of -these, three only failed to kneel and kiss the cross, the first, a -well-dressed, middle-aged woman, leading a restless small lap-dog, which -pulled and whined whenever his mistress was not attending to him; the -others, two young girls--but quite old enough to have known better--who -marched in amongst the kneeling figures, open guide-book in hand, -noticed something in the chapel to which it referred, and then marched -out. They passed close enough for me to catch a word or two of their -talk, which I am glad to say was not English. - -As I stood there and watched and listened, the distant voices seemed -to be chanting that grand old monk’s-Latin hymn, the “Dies Iræ,” and I -fancied (I am afraid it was pure fancy) I could hear:-- - - Quærens me sedisti lassus, - - Redeinisti crucem passas, - - Tantus labor non sit cassus! - -More than once I was haunted by the wish to enter and kneel and kiss the -cross, by the side of some poor Italian woman and her child. I wish now -that I had, but hope it was a genuine Protestant instinct which hindered -me. At any rate I shall never have another chance. This crucifix is only -brought out once a year--on Good Friday--and I shall never again be in -St. John’s Lateran on that day for the “Tenebræ” service. - - - - -JOHN TO JONATHAN - -An Address delivered in the Music Hall, Boston, on the 11th of October -1870 - - -_This Address is printed precisely as it was spoken, at the request of -friends who had read extracts in our newspapers. I am quite aware how -superficial it must seem to English readers, and would only remind them -that I had no Parliamentary debates, or other documents, to which to -refer. I am thankful myself to find that, while there are startling gaps -in it, there are no gross blunders as to facts or dates. The kindliness -with which it was listened to by the audience, and discussed in the -American press, allows me to hope that the time has come when any effort -to put an end to the unhappy differences between the two countries will -be looked upon favourably in the United States. The true men and women -on both sides of the Atlantic feel, with Mr. Forster, that a war between -America and England would be a civil war, and believe with him that -we have seen the last of civil war between English-speaking men. Both -nations are, I hope and believe, for a hearty reconciliation, and it -only remains for the Governments to do their part._ - -Thomas Hughes. - - -It is with a heavy sense of responsibility, my friends, and no little -anxiety, that I am here to-night to address you on this subject. I have -been in this country now some two months, and from the day I crossed -your frontier I have received, from one end of the land to the other, -from men and women whom I had never seen in my life, and on whom I -had no shadow of a claim that I could discover, nothing but the most -generous, graceful, and unobtrusive hospitality. I am not referring to -this city and its neighbourhood, in which all Englishmen are supposed -to feel very like home, and in which most of us have some old and -dear friend or two. I speak of your States from New York to Iowa and -Missouri, from the Canadian border to Washington. Everywhere I have -been carried about to places of interest in the neighbourhood, lodged, -boarded, and cared for as if I had been a dear relative returning from -long absence. However demoralised an Englishman may become in his own -country, there is always one plank in his social morals which he clings -to with the utmost tenacity, and that is paying his own postage stamps. -My hold even on this last straw is sadly relaxed. I am obliged to keep -vigilant watch on my letters to hinder their being stamped and posted -for me by invisible hands. I never before have so fully realised the -truth of those remarks of your learned and pious fellow-citizen, Rev. -Homer Wilbur, whose lucubrations have been a source of much delight to -me for many years, when he says somewhere, “I think I could go near to -be a perfect Christian if I were always a visitor at the house of some -hospitable friend. I can show a great deal of self-denial where the best -of everything is urged upon me with friendly importunity. It is not -so very hard to turn the other cheek for a kiss.” I should be simply a -brute if I were not equally touched and abashed by the kindness I have -received while amongst you. I can never hope to repay it, but the memory -of it will always be amongst my most precious possessions, and I can, at -least, publicly acknowledge it, as I do here this evening. - -But, my friends, I must turn to the other side of the picture. There is -nothing--at any rate, no kind of pleasure, I suppose--which is unmixed. -From the deepest and purest fountains some bitter thing is sure to rise, -and I have not been able, even in the New World, to escape the common -lot of mankind in the Old. Everywhere I have found, when I have sounded -the reason for all this kindness, that it was offered to me personally, -because, to use the words of some whom I hope I may now look on as dear -friends, “We feel that you are one of us.” The moment the name of my -country was mentioned a shade came over the kindest faces. I cannot -conceal from myself that the feeling towards England in this country is -one which must be deeply painful to every Englishman. - -It was for this reason that I chose the subject of this lecture. I -cannot bear to remain amongst you under any false pretences, or to leave -you with any false impressions. I am not “one of you,” in the sense of -preferring your institutions to those of my own country. I am before all -things an Englishman--a John Bull, if you will--loving old England and -feeling proud of her. I am jealous of her fair fame, and pained more -than I can say to find what I honestly believe to be a very serious -misunderstanding here, as to the events which more than anything else -have caused this alienation. You, who have proved your readiness as a -people to pour out ease, wealth, life itself, as water, that no shame or -harm should come to your country’s flag or name, should be the last to -wish the citizen of any other country to be false to his own. My respect -and love for your nation and your institutions should be worth nothing -to you, if I were not true to those of my own country, and did not love -them better. For this reason, then, and in the hope of proving to you -that you have misjudged the England of to-day--that she is no longer, at -any rate, if she ever was, the haughty, imperious power her enemies -have loved to paint her, interfering in every quarrel, subsidising and -hectoring over friends, and holding down foes with a brutal and heavy -hand, careless of all law except that of her own making, and bent -above all things on heaping up wealth--I have consented to appear -here tonight. I had hoped to be allowed to be amongst you simply as a -listener and a learner. Since my destiny and your kindness have ordered -it otherwise, I can only speak to you of that which is uppermost in my -thoughts, of which my heart is full. If I say things which are hard for -you to hear, I am sure you will pardon me as you would a spoilt child. -You are responsible for having taught me to open my heart and to speak -my mind to you, and will take it in good part if you do not find that -heart and mind just what you had assumed them to be. - -I propose then, to-night, to state the case of my country so far as -regards her conduct while your great rebellion was raging. In a fight -for life, and for principles dearer than life, no men can be fair to -those who are outside. The time comes when they can weigh both sides of -the case impartially. I trust that that time has now arrived, and that I -can safely appeal to the calm judgment of a great people. - -It is absolutely necessary, in order to appreciate what took place in -England during your great struggle, to bear in mind, in the first place, -that it agitated our social and political life almost as deeply as it -did yours. I am scarcely old enough to remember the fierce collisions -of party during the first Reform agitation, but I have taken a deep -interest, and during the last twenty years an active part, in every -great struggle since that time; and I say without hesitation, that not -even in the crisis of the Free-trade movement were English people more -deeply stirred than by that grapple between freedom and law on the -one hand, and slavery and privilege on the other, which was so sternly -battled through, and brought to so glorious and triumphant a decision, -in your great rebellion. There can be, I repeat, no greater mistake than -to suppose that there was anything like indifference on our side of the -water, and no one can understand the question who makes it. There was -plenty of ignorance, plenty of fierce partisanship, plenty of bewildered -hesitation and vacillation amongst great masses of honest, well-meaning -people, who could find no steady ground on the shifting sand of -statement and counter-statement with which they were deluged by those -who _did_ know their own minds, and felt by instinct from the first that -here was a battle for life or death; but there was, I repeat again, -no indifference. Our political struggles do not, as a rule, affect our -social life, but during your war the antagonism between your friends and -the friends of the rebel States often grew into personal hostility. I -know old friendships which were sorely tried by it, to put it no -higher. I heard, over and over again, men refuse to meet those who were -conspicuous on the other side. Any of you who had time to glance at our -papers will not need to be told how fiercely the battle was fought in -our press. - -It is a mistake, also, to suppose that any section of our people were -on one side or the other. Let me say a few words in explanation of this -part of the subject. And first, of our aristocracy. I do not mean for -a moment to deny that a great majority of them took sides with the -Confederates, and desired to see them successful, and the great Republic -broken up into two jealous and hostile nations. What else could you -expect? Could you fairly look for sympathy in that quarter? Your whole -history has been a determined protest against privilege, and in favour -of equal rights for all men; and you have never been careful, in speech -or conduct, to conciliate your adversaries. For years your papers and -the speeches of your public men had rung with denunciations (many of -them very unfair) of them and their caste. They are not much in the -habit of allowing their sentiments to find public expression, but they -know what is going on in the world, and have long memories. It would be -well if many of us Liberals at home, as well as you on this side, would -remember that in this matter they cannot help themselves. A man in -England may be born a Howard, or a Cavendish, or a Cecil, without -any fault of his own, and is apt to “rear up,” as you say, when this -accident is spoken of as though it were an act of voluntary malignity on -his part, and to resent the doctrine that his class is a nuisance -that should be summarily abated. So, as a rule, they sided with the -rebellion; but that rule has notable exceptions. - -There were no warmer or wiser friends of the Union than the Duke of -Argyll, Lord Carlisle, and others; and it should be remembered that -although the class made no secret of their leanings, and many of them, -I believe, subscribed largely to the Confederate loan, no motion hostile -to the Union was ever even discussed in the House of Lords. They have -lost their money and seen the defeat of the cause which they favoured--a -defeat so thorough, I trust, that that cause will never again be able to -raise its head on this continent. I believe they have learnt much from -the lesson, and that partly from the teaching of your war, partly from -other causes to which I have no time to refer, they are far more in -sympathy at this time with the nation than they have ever yet been. - -Of course, those who hang round and depend upon the aristocracy went -with them--far too large a class, I am sorry to say, in our country, and -one whose voice is too apt to be heard in clubs and society. But Pall -Mall and Mayfair, and the journals and periodicals which echo the voices -of Pall Mall, do not mean much in England, though they are apt to talk -as though they did, and are sometimes taken at their word. - -The great mercantile world comes next in order, and here, too, there was -a decided preponderance against you. The natural hatred of disturbances, -which dominates those whose main object in life is making money, -probably swayed the better men amongst them, who forgot altogether that -for that disturbance you were not responsible. The worse were carried -away by the hopes of gain, to be made out of the sore need of the States -in rebellion, and in defiance of the laws of their own country. But -amongst the most eminent, as well as in the rank and file of this class, -you had many warm friends, such as T. Baring and Kirkman Hodgson; and -the Union and Emancipation Societies, of which I shall speak presently, -found a number of their staunch supporters in their ranks. The -manufacturers of England were far more generous in their sympathies, as -my friend Mr. Mundella, who is present here to-night and was himself -a staunch friend, can witness. Cobden, Bright, and Forster were their -representatives, as well as the representatives of the great bulk of our -nation. I have no need to speak of them, for their names are honoured -here as they are at home. - -Now, before I speak of your friends, let me first remind you that it is -precisely with that portion of the English nation of which I have been -speaking that your people come in contact when they are in our country. -An American generally has introductions which bring him into relations -more or less intimate with some sections of that society to which our -aristocracy gives its tone; or he is amongst us for business purposes, -and comes chiefly across our mercantile classes. I cannot but believe -that this fact goes far to explain the (to me) extraordinary prevalence -of the belief here, that the English nation was on the side of the -rebellion. That belief has, I hope and believe, changed considerably -since the waves of your mighty storm have begun to calm down, and I am -not without hopes that I may be able to change it yet somewhat more, -with some at least of those who have the patience and kindness to listen -to me this evening. - -And now let me turn to those who were the staunch friends of the North -from the very outset. They were gathered from all ranks and all parts of -the kingdom. They were brought in by all sorts of motives. Some few had -studied your history, and knew that these Southern men had been the -only real enemies of their country on American soil since the War -of Independence. Many followed their old anti-slavery traditions -faithfully, and cast their lot at once against the slave-owners, -careless of the reiterated assertions, both on your side of the Atlantic -and ours, that the Union and not abolition was the issue. Many came -because they had learned to look upon your land as the great home for -the poor of all nations, and to love her institutions and rejoice in her -greatness as though they in some sort belonged to themselves. All felt -the tremendous significance of the struggle, and that the future -of their own country was almost as deeply involved as the future of -America. To all of them the noble words of one of your greatest poets -and staunchest patriots, which rang out in the darkest moments of the -first year of the war, struck a chord very deep in their hearts, and -expressed in undying words that which they were trying to utter:-- - - O strange New World, thet yit wast never young, - - Whose youth from thee by gripin’ need was wrung, - - Brown foundlin’ o’ the woods, whose baby-bed - - Was prowled roun’ by the Injun’s cracklin’ tread, - - An’ who grew’st strong thru shifts an’ wants an’ pains, - - Nussed by stern men with empires in their brains, - - Who saw in vision their young Ishmel strain - - With each hard hand a vassal ocean’s mane, - - Thou, skilled by Freedom an’ by gret events - - To pitch new States ez Old-World men pitch tents, - - Thou, taught by Fate to know Jehovah’s plan - - Thet man’s devices can’t unmake a man, - - An’ whose free latch-string never was drawed in - - Against the poorest child of Adam’s kin,-- - - The grave’s not dug where traitor hands shall lay - - In fearful haste thy murdered corse away! - -It was in this faith that we took our stand, with a firm resolution that -no effort of ours should be spared to help your people shake themselves -clear of the dead weight of slavery, and to preserve that vast -inheritance of which God has made you the guardians and trustees for all -the nations of the earth, unbroken, and free from the standing armies, -disputed boundaries, and wretched heart-burnings and dissensions of the -Old World. It was little enough that we could do in any case, but that -little was done with all our hearts, and on looking back I cannot but -think was well done. - -There was no need at first for any organisation. Until after the battle -of Manassas Junction in 1861, there was scarcely any public expression -of sympathy with the rebellion. The _Times_ and that portion of the -press which follows its lead, and is always ready to go in for the side -they think will win, were lecturing on the wickedness of the war and the -absurdity of the rebel States in supposing that they could resist for a -month the strength of the North. The news of that first defeat arrived, -and this portion of our press swung round, and the strong feeling in -favour of the rebellion which leavened society and the commercial -world began to manifest itself. The unlucky _Trent_ business, and your -continued want of success in the field, made matters worse. We were -silenced for the moment; for though, putting ourselves in your places, -we could feel how bitter the surrender of the two archrebels must have -been, we could not but admit that our Government was bound to insist -upon it, and that the demand had not been made in an arrogant or -offensive manner. If you will re-read the official documents now, I -think that you too will acknowledge that this was so. Then came Mr. -Mason’s residence in London, where his house became the familiar resort -of all the leading sympathisers with the rebellion. The newspaper -which he started, _The Index_, was full, week after week, of false and -malignant attacks on your Government. The most bitter of them to us was -the constant insistance, backed by quotations from Mr. Lincoln and Mr. -Seward, that the war had nothing to do with slavery, that emancipation -was far more likely to come from the rebels than from you. - -“The lie that is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies,” and we felt -the truth of that wonderful saying. This had been our great difficulty -from the first. Our generation had been reared on anti-slavery -principles. We remembered as children how the great battle was won in -England, how even in our nurseries we gave up sugar lest we might be -tasting the accursed thing, and subscribed our pennies that the chains -might be struck from all human limbs. Emancipation had been the crowning -glory of England in our eyes. But we found that this great force was not -with us, was even slipping away and drifting to the other side. It was -not only Mr. Mason’s paper, and the backing he got in our press, which -was undermining it. The vehement protests of those who had been for -years looked on by us as the foremost soldiers in the great cause on -your side told in the same direction. I well remember the consternation -and almost despair with which I read in Mr. Phillips’ speech in this -hall on 20th June 1861, “The Republicans, led by Seward, offer to -surrender anything to save the Union. Their gospel is the constitution, -and the slave clause their sermon on the mount. They think that at the -judgment day the blacker the sins they have committed to save the Union -the clearer will be their title to heaven.” - -Something must be done to counteract this, to put the case clearly -before our people. Mr. Mason and his friends were already establishing a -Confederate States Aid Association; it must be met by something similar -on the right side. So in 1862 the Emancipation and the Union and -Emancipation Societies were started in London and in Manchester, and in -good time came Mr. Lincoln’s proclamation of emancipation to strengthen -our hands. The original manifesto of the Emancipation Society said--“To -make it clear by the force of indisputable testimony that the South -is fighting for slavery, while the North is fully committed to the -destruction of slavery, is the principal object for which this society -is organised. Its promoters do not believe that English anti-slavery -sentiment is dead or enfeebled. They are confident that when the demands -and designs of the South are made clear, there will be no danger of -England being enticed into complicity with them.” We pledged ourselves -to test the opinion of the country everywhere by public meetings, and -challenged the Confederate States Aid Association to accept that test. -They did so; but I never could hear of any even quasi public meeting but -one which they held in England. That meeting was at Mr. Mason’s house, -and was, I believe, attended by some fifty persons. - -The first step of our societies was to hold meetings for passing an -address of congratulation to your President on the publication of the -Emancipation proclamation. It was New Year’s Eve 1862. Our address said: -“We have watched with the warmest interest the steady advance of your -policy along the path of emancipation; and on this eve of the day on -which your proclamation takes effect we pray God to strengthen your -hands, to confirm your noble purpose, and to hasten the restoration of -that lawful authority which engages, in peace or war, by compensation -or by force of arms, to realise the glorious principle on which your -constitution is founded--the brotherhood, freedom, and equality of -all men.” The address was enthusiastically adopted by a large meeting, -chiefly composed of working men. It was clear at once that there was -a grand force behind us, for we became objects of furious attack. The -_Times_ called us impostors, and said we got our funds for the -agitation from American sources--the fact being that we always refused -contributions from this side. The _Saturday Review_ declared, in one -of its bitterest articles, that if anything could be calculated upon as -likely to defer indefinitely the gradual extinction of slavery, it -would be Mr. Lincoln’s fictitious abolition of it. We were meddlesome -fanatics, insignificant nobodies, mischievous agitators. This was -satisfactory and encouraging. We felt sure that we had taken the -right course, and not a moment too soon. Then came the test of public -meetings, which you at least are surely bound to accept as a fair gauge -of what a people thinks and wills. - -Our first was held on the 29th of January 1863. We took Exeter Hall, -the largest and most central hall in London. We did nothing but simply -advertise widely that such a meeting would be held, inviting all who -cared to come, foes as well as friends. Prudent and timid people shook -their heads and looked grave. The cotton famine was at its worst, and -tens of thousands of our workpeople were “clemming” as they call it, -starving as you might say. Your prospects looked as black as they had -ever done; it was almost the darkest moment of the whole war. Even -friends warned us that we should fail in our object, and only do harm by -showing our weakness; that the Confederate States Aid Association would -spare no pains or money to break up the meeting, and a hundred roughs -sent there by them might turn it into a triumph for the rebellion. -However, on we went,--we knew our own people too well to fear the -result. The night came, and familiar as I am with this kind of thing, -I have never seen in my time anything approaching this scene. Remember, -there was nothing to attract people; no well-known orators, for we -always thought it best to keep our Parliament men to their own ground; -no great success to rejoice in, for you were just reeling under -the recoil of your gallant army from the blood-stained heights of -Fredericksburg; no attack on our own Government; no appeal to political -or social hates or prejudices; only doors thrown wide open, with the -invitation, “Now let Englishmen come forward and show on which side -their sympathies really are in this war.” Notwithstanding all these -disadvantages the great hall was densely crowded, so that there was no -standing room, and the Strand and the neighbouring streets blocked with -a crowd of thousands who could find no place, long before the doors were -open. We were obliged to organise a number of meetings on the spur of -the moment in the lower halls, and even in the open streets. In the -great hall--where two clergymen, the Hon. Baptist Noel and Mr. Newman -Hall, and I myself, were the chief speakers--as well as in every one of -the other meetings, we carried, not only without opposition, but, so far -as I remember, without a single hand being held up on the other -side, resolutions in favour of your Government, of the Union, and of -emancipation. The success was so complete that in London our work was -done. - -Then followed similar meetings at Manchester, Sheffield, Bristol, Leeds, -in all the great centres of population, with precisely the same result. -I don’t remember that the enemy ever even attempted to divide a meeting. -The country was carried by acclamation. Our friends in Liverpool wrote -with some anxiety as to the state of feeling there, and asked me to go -down and deliver an address. I went, and the meeting carried the same -resolutions by a very large majority; and those who, it was supposed, -came to disturb the proceedings, thought better of it when they saw the -temper of the audience, and were quiet. Without troubling you with any -further details of our work, I may just add, as a proof of how those -who profess to be the most astute worshippers of public opinion changed -their minds in consequence of the answer of the country to our appeals, -that in August 1863 the _Times_ supported our demand on the Government -for the stoppage of the steam-rams. - -In addition to this political movement, we instituted also a number -of freedmen’s aid associations, in order that those abolitionists in -England who were still unable to put faith in your Government might have -an opportunity of helping in their own way. These associations entered -into correspondence with those on your side, and sent over a good many -thousand pounds’ worth of clothing and other supplies, besides money. -I forget the exact amount. It was a mere drop in the ocean of your -magnificent war charities, but it came from thousands who had little -enough to spare in those hard times, and I trust has had the effect of -a peace-offering with those of your people who are conversant with the -facts, and are ready to judge by their actual doings even those against -whom they think they have fair cause of complaint. - -So much for what I may call the unofficial, or extraparliamentary, -struggle in England during your war. And now let me turn to the action -of our Government and of Parliament. I might fairly have rested my case -entirely upon this ground. In the case of nations blessed as America and -England are with perfect freedom of speech and action within the limits -of law--where men may say the thing they will freely, and without any -check but the civil courts--no one in my judgment has a right to make -the nation responsible for anything except what its Government says and -does. But I know how deeply the conduct and speech of English society -has outraged your people, and still rankles in their minds, and I wished -by some rough analysis, and by the statement of facts within my own -knowledge, and of doings in which I personally took an active part, to -show you that you have done us very scant justice. The dress suit, and -the stomach and digestive apparatus, of England were hostile to you, and -you have taken them for the nation: the brain and heart and muscle of -England were on your side, and these you have ignored and forgotten. - -Now, for our Government and Parliament. I will admit at once, if you -please, that Lord Palmerston and the principal members of his Cabinet -were not friendly to you, and would have been glad to have seen your -Republic broken up. I am by no means sure that it was so; but let that -pass. I was not in their counsels, and have no more means of judging of -them than are open to all of you. Your first accusation against us -is, that the Queen’s proclamation of neutrality, which was signed -and published on the 13th of May 1861, was premature, and an act of -discourtesy to your Government, inasmuch as your new Minister, Mr. -Adams, only arrived in England on that very day. Well, looking back from -this distance of time, I quite admit that it would have been far better -to have delayed the publication of the proclamation till after he had -arrived in London. But at the time the case was very different. You -must remember that news of the President’s proclamation of the blockade -reached London on 3rd May. Of course, from that moment the danger of -collision between our vessels and yours, and of the fitting out of -privateers in our harbours, arose at once. In fact, your first capture -of a British vessel, the _General Parkhill_ of Liverpool, was made on -12th May. But if the publication of the proclamation of neutrality was -a mistake, it was made by our Government at the earnest solicitation -of Mr. Forster and other warm friends of yours, who pressed it forward -entirely, as they supposed, in your interest. They wanted to stop -letters of marque and to legitimise the captures made by your blockading -squadron. The Government acted at their instance; so, whether a blunder -or not, the proclamation was not an unfriendly act. Besides, remember -what it amounted to. Simply and solely to a recognition of the fact that -you had a serious war on hand. Mr. Seward had already admitted this in -an official paper of the 4th of May, and your Supreme Court decided, in -the case of the _Amy Warwick_, that the proclamation of blockade was in -itself conclusive evidence that a state of war existed at the time. If -we had ever gone a step further--if we had recognised the independence -of the rebel States, as our Government was strongly urged to do by their -envoys, by members of our Parliament, and lastly by the Emperor of -the French--you would have had good ground of offence. But this was -precisely what we never would do; and when they found this out, the -Confederate Government cut off all intercourse with England, and -expelled our consuls from their towns. So one side blamed us for doing -too much, and the other for doing too little--the frequent fate of -neutrals, as you yourselves are finding at this moment in the case of -the war between Prussia and France. - -Then came the first public effort of the sympathisers with the -rebellion. After several preliminary skirmishes, which were defeated -by Mr. Forster (who had what we lawyers should call the watching brief, -with Cobden and Bright behind him as leading counsel, and who used to -go round the lobbies in those anxious days with his pockets bulging out -with documents to prove how effective the blockade was, and how many -ships of our merchants you were capturing every day), Mr. Gregory put a -motion on the paper. He was well chosen for the purpose, as a member of -great experience and ability, sitting on our side of the House, so that -weak-kneed Liberals would have an excuse for following him, and though -not himself in office, supposed to be on intimate terms with the Premier -and other members of the Cabinet. His motion was simply “to call the -attention of the House to the expediency of prompt recognition of the -Southern Confederacy.” - -It was set down for 7th June 1861, and I tell you we were all pretty -nervous about the result. The _Spectator, Daily News, Star_, and other -staunch papers opened fire, and we all did what we could in the way of -canvassing; but until the Government had declared itself no Union man -could feel safe. Well, Lord John Russell, as the Foreign Minister, -got up, snubbed the motion altogether, said that the Government had no -intention whatever of agreeing to it, and recommended its withdrawal. -So Mr. Gregory and his friends took their motion off the paper without a -debate, and did not venture to try any other during the session of 1861. -In the late autumn came the unlucky _Trent_ affair, to which I have -already sufficiently alluded. Belying on the feeling which had been -roused by it, and cheered on by the Mason club in Piccadilly and the -_Index_ newspaper fulminations, and by the severe checks of the Union -armies, they took the field again in 1862. This time their tactics were -bolder. They no longer confined themselves to asking the opinion of the -House deferentially. Mr. Lindsay, the great shipowner, who it was said -had a small fleet of blockade-runners, was chosen as the spokesman. He -gave notice of motion, “That in the opinion of this House, the States -which have seceded from the Union have so long maintained themselves, -and given such proofs of determination and ability to support -independence, that the propriety of offering mediation with a view to -terminating hostilities is worthy of the serious and immediate attention -of Her Majesty’s Government.” Again we trembled for the result, and -again the Government came out with a square refusal on the 18th of July, -and this motion shared the fate of its predecessor, and was withdrawn by -its own promoters. - -Then came the escape of the _Alabama_. Upon this I have no word to say. -My private opinion has been expressed over and over again in Parliament -(where in my first year, 1866, I think I was the first man to urge open -arbitration on our Government) as well as on the platform and in the -press. But I stand here to-night as an Englishman, and say that at this -moment I have no cause to be ashamed of the attitude of my country. Two -Governments in succession, Tory and Liberal, through Lords Stanley -and Clarendon, have admitted (as Mr. Fish states himself in his last -despatch on the subject) the principle of comprehensive arbitration on -all questions between Governments. This is all that a nation can do. -England is ready to have the case in all its bearings referred to -impartial arbitration, and to pay whatever damages may be assessed -against her without a murmur. She has also agreed (and again I use the -language of Mr. Fish) “to discuss the important changes in the rules -of public law, the desirableness of which has been demonstrated by the -incidents of the last few years, and which, in view of the maritime -prominence of Great Britain and the United States, it would befit them -to mature and propose to the other states of Christendom.” She has, in -fact, surrendered her old position as untenable, and agreed to the terms -proposed by your own Government. What more can you ask of a nation of -your own blood, as proud and sensitive as yourselves on all points where -national honour is in question? - -But here I must remind you of one fact which you seem never to have -realised. The _Alabama_ was the only one of the rebel cruisers of -whose character our Government had any notice, which escaped from our -harbours. The _Shenandoah_ was a merchant vessel, employed in the Indian -trade as the _Sea King_. Her conversion into a rebel cruiser was -never heard of till long after she had left England. The _Georgia_ was -actually reported by the surveyor of the Board of Trade as a merchant -ship, and to be “rather crank.” She was fitted out on the French coast, -and left the port of Cherbourg for her first cruise. The _Florida_ was -fitted out in Mobile. She was actually detained at Nassau on suspicion, -and only discharged by the Admiralty Court there on failure of evidence. -On the other hand, our Government stopped the _Rappahannock,_ the -_Alexandra,_ and the _Pampero_, and seized Mr. Laird’s celebrated rams -at Liverpool, and Captain Osborne’s Chinese flotilla, for which last -exercise of vigilance the nation had to pay £100,000. - -Such is our case as to the cruisers which did you so much damage. I -believe it to be true. If we are mistaken, however, you will get such -damages for each and all of these vessels as the arbitrator may award. -We reserve nothing. I as an Englishman am deeply grieved that any of my -countrymen, for base love of gain or any other motive, should have dared -to defy the proclamation of my Sovereign, speaking in the nation’s name. -I earnestly long for the time when by wise consultation between our -nations, and the modification of the public law bearing on such cases, -not only such acts as these, but all war at sea, shall be rendered -impossible. The United States and England have only to agree in this -matter, and there is an end of naval war through the whole world. - -In 1863 the horizon was still dark. Splendid as your efforts had been, -and magnificent as was the attitude of your nation, tried in the fire -as few nations have been in all history, those efforts had not yet been -crowned with any marked success. With us it was the darkest in the whole -long agony, for in it came the crisis of that attempt of the Emperor of -the French to inveigle us in a joint recognition of the Confederacy, -on the success of which his Mexican adventure was supposed to hang. The -details of those negotiations have never been made public. All we -know is, that Mr. Lindsay and Mr. Roebuck went to Paris and had long -conferences with Napoleon, the result of which was the effort of Mr. -Roebuck (now in turn the representative of the rebels in our Parliament) -to force or persuade our Government into this alliance. Then came the -final crisis. On the 30th of June 1863, a day memorable in our history -as in yours, at the very time that your army of the Potomac was hurrying -through the streets of Gettysburg to meet the swoop of those terrible -Southern legions, John Bright stood on the floor of our House of -Commons, on fire with that righteous wrath which has so often lifted him -above the heads of other English orators. - -He dragged the whole plot to light, quoted the former attacks of Mr. -Roebuck on his Imperial host, and then turning to the Speaker, went on, -“And now, sir, the honourable and learned gentleman has been to Paris, -introduced there by the honourable member for Sunderland, and he has -sought to become, as it were, a co-conspirator with the French Emperor, -to drag this country into a policy which I maintain is as hostile to its -interests as it would be degrading to its honour.” From that moment the -cause of the rebellion was lost in England; for by the next mails came -the news of the three days’ fight, and the melting away of Longstreet’s -corps in the final and desperate efforts to break the Federal line on -the slopes of little Round Top. A few weeks more and we heard of the -surrender of Vicksburg, and no more was heard in our Parliament of -recognition or mediation. - -I have now, my friends, stated the case between our countries from -an Englishman’s point of view, of course, but I hope fairly and -temperately. At any rate, I have only spoken of matters within my own -personal knowledge, and have only quoted from public records which -are as open to every one of you as they are to me. Search them, -I beseech you, and see whether I am right or not. If wrong, it is from -no insular prejudices or national conceit, and you will at any rate -think kindly and bear with the errors of one who has always loved your -nation well, through good report and evil report, and is now bound to -it by a hundred new and precious ties. If right, all I beg of you is, to -use your influences that old hatreds and prejudices may disappear, and -America and England may march together, as nations redeemed by a common -Saviour, toward the goal which is set for them in a brighter future. - - Shall it be love, or hate, John? - - It’s you thet’s to decide; - - Ain’t your bonds held by Fate, John, - - Like all the world’s beside? - -So runs the end of the solemn appeal in “Jonathan to John,” the poem -which suggested the title of this lecture. It comes from one who never -deals in wild words. I am proud to be able to call him a very dear and -old friend. He is the American writer who did more than any other to -teach such of us in the old country as ever learned them at all, the -rights and wrongs of this great struggle of yours. Questions asked by -such men can never be safely left on one side. Well, then, I say we -_have_ answered them. We know--no nation, I believe, knows better, or -confesses daily with more of awe--that our bonds are held by fate; that -a strict account of all the mighty talents which have been committed to -us will be required of us English, though we do live in a sea fortress, -in which the gleam of steel drawn in anger has not been seen for more -than a century. We know that we are very far from being what we ought to -be; we know that we have great social problems to work out, and, believe -me, we have set manfully to work to solve them,--problems which go right -down amongst the roots of things, and the wrong solution of which may -shake the very foundations of society. We have to face them manfully, -after the manner of our race, within the four corners of an island not -bigger than one of your large States; while you have the vast -elbow-room of this wonderful continent, with all its million outlets and -opportunities for every human being who is ready to work. Yes, our bonds -are indeed held by fate, but we are taking strict account of the number -and amount of them, and mean, by God’s help, to dishonour none of them -when the time comes for taking them up. We reckon, too, some of us, that -as years roll on, and you get to understand us better, we may yet hear -the words “Well done, brother,” from this side of the Atlantic; and if -the strong old islander, who, after all, is your father, should happen -some day to want a name on the back of one of his bills, I, for one, -should not wonder to hear that at the time of presentation the name -Jonathan is found scrawled across there in very decided characters. For -we have answered that second question, too, so far as it lies in our -power. - -It will be love and not hate between the two freest of the great nations -of the earth, if our decision can so settle it. There will never be -anything but love again, if England has the casting vote. For remember -that the force of the decision of your great struggle has not been spent -on this continent. Your victory has strengthened the hands and hearts of -those who are striving in the cause of government, for the people by the -people, in every corner of the Old World. In England the dam that had -for so many years held back the free waters burst in the same year that -you sheathed your sword, and now your friends there are triumphant and -honoured; and if those who were your foes ever return to power you will -find that the lesson of your war has not been lost on them. In another -six years you will have finished the first century of your national -life. By that time you will have grown to fifty millions, and will -have subdued and settled those vast western regions, which now in the -richness of their solitudes, broken only by the panting of the engine as -it passes once a day over some new prairie line, startles the traveller -from the Old World. I am only echoing the thoughts and prayers of -my nation in wishing you God-speed in your great mission. When that -centenary comes round, I hope, if I live, to see the great family of -English-speaking nations girdling the earth with a circle of free and -happy communities, in which the angels’ message of peace on earth and -good-will amongst men may not be still a mockery and delusion. It rests -with you to determine whether this shall be so or not. May the God of -all the nations of the earth, who has so marvellously prospered you -hitherto, and brought you through so great trials, guide you in your -decision! - -THE END - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Vacation Rambles, by Thomas Hughes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VACATION RAMBLES *** - -***** This file should be named 54502-0.txt or 54502-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/0/54502/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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