diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/64962-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64962-0.txt | 2328 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2328 deletions
diff --git a/old/64962-0.txt b/old/64962-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9d77c17..0000000 --- a/old/64962-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2328 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, -Science, and Art, Fifth Series, No. 5, Vol. I, February 2, 1884, by Various - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, - Fifth Series, No. 5, Vol. I, February 2, 1884 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: March 30, 2021 [eBook #64962] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Susan Skinner, Eric Hutton and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 5, VOL. I, FEBRUARY 2, -1884 *** - - - - -[Illustration: CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL - -OF - -POPULAR - -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART - -Fifth Series - -ESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832 - -CONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS) - -NO. 5.—VOL. I. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1884. PRICE 1½_d._] - - - - -HAMPSTEAD HEATH. - - -Hampstead Heath! What a world of delight seemed concentrated in that -name in the days of childhood, when donkey-riding was not yet too -undignified an amusement, and a gallop ‘cross country’ through the -bracken and furze struck terror into the heart of nurse or parent, and -covered the rider with glory! Such feats of horsemanship now belong -to the irrevocable past; but yet no part of the great ‘province of -houses’ known as London brings such pleasant memories as the quaint -old village on its northern outskirts and the wild breezy heath that -bounds it. Even now, Hampstead is rather in London, than of it, and -keeps up customs that have died out elsewhere. There, on the fifth -of November, a gallant procession takes its way through its steep -winding streets, and the centuries mingle with as little regard to -accuracy as they might do in a schoolboy’s dream the night before -an examination in history. Gallant Crusaders in chain-mail, with -the red cross embroidered on their flowing white mantles, jostle -very nineteenth-century Guardsmen, who in their turn seem to feel no -surprise at seeing Charles I. in velvet doublet and lace collar talking -amicably to a motley, spangled harlequin. But were the inhabitants in -this their yearly carnival to picture the history of their village -and of the notable personages who have lived in it, they might make a -pageant as long and varied as any that imagination can invent. - -The manor of Hampstead was given by Edward the Confessor to the -monks of Westminster; and subsequent monarchs conferred on them the -neighbouring manors of Belsize and Hendon. It was at Hendon Manor-house -that Cardinal Wolsey made his first halt when journeying from Richmond -to York after his disgrace. At that time, however, Hampstead itself had -no great claim to notice, its inhabitants being, we are told, chiefly -washerwomen, whose services were in great demand among the inhabitants -of London. That this peaceful if humble occupation could be carried -on, proves at least that the wolves which, according to Dame Juliana -Berners’s _Boke of St Albans_, abounded among the northern heights of -London in the fifteenth century, had been exterminated by the end of -the sixteenth. The wild-boar lingered longer; and so late as 1772, -we hear of the hunting of a deer in Belsize Park. This, however, can -scarcely be regarded as genuine sport, as it is advertised to take -place among other amusements intended to allure visitors to Belsize -House, which had been opened as a pleasure-house by an energetic -individual of the name of Howell. He describes in his advertisement -all the attractions of the place, and promises for the protection -of visitors that ‘twelve stout fellows completely armed will patrol -between Belsize and London.’ - -Early in the eighteenth century chalybeate wells were discovered -at Hampstead, and as they were recommended by several physicians, -the hitherto quiet village became a fashionable and dissipated -watering-place. Idle London flocked there: youths who were delighted -to show their finery in a new place; girls who were young enough to -delight in the prospect of dancing all night; gamblers of both sexes; -wits and fops. They danced, lost their money at cards and dice, talked -scandal of each other, and drank of the chalybeate well, which Sam -Weller has characterised for all generations as ‘water with a taste of -warm flat-irons,’ till Hampstead lost its novelty, and the company went -elsewhere to go through the same programme. - -Among the crowd of nonentities that frequent the Hampstead Wells -there is one notable figure, that of Richard Steele. In 1712, Steele -retired from London to a small house on Haverstock Hill, on the road -to Hampstead. Here, doubtless, his friend and fellow-labourer Addison -visited him; and the two would find in the humours and follies of the -company at the Wells material for the next number of the _Tatler_, -the publication of which had now been going on for three years. -Let us picture the two friends passing together through the gay -company—Steele, radiant, we may be sure, in gay apparel, seizing at -once on the humorous characteristics of the scene; while Addison would -tone down his companion’s exuberant fancy, and draw his own thoughtful -moralisings from the follies he witnessed. On summer evenings they -would walk on the Heath, and admire the view across the swelling green -slopes to the town of Harrow, where one day was to be educated my Lord -Byron, a young gentleman who would win greater fame as a poet than even -Addison’s acquaintance—a protégé to begin with, an enemy at last—the -lame Catholic gentleman, Mr Alexander Pope. - -The friendship between Steele and Addison must ever remain a puzzle. -They had talent in common, Steele having the more original genius, -Addison the more cultivated taste; but otherwise there seems no point -of contact between the natures of graceless, impulsive, erring, loving -Dick, and his cold, conscientious, methodical comrade. To our century, -as to his own, Steele is ‘Dicky;’ the king made him Sir Richard, and -on the strength of his title he took a fine house in Soho Square, and -swaggered more than ever, and increased his expenses and his debts, but -to all the world he was Dicky Steele still; whereas, had the honour of -a baronetcy befallen Mr Secretary Addison, can we doubt that to all -posterity he would have been known as ‘Sir Joseph?’ Yet these two men, -unlike each other as they were, united to perform in an unobtrusive -fashion a great work; they purified English literature, and did much -to reform English manners. In a society which had learned to regard -truth, honesty, and virtue as absurd, they showed, not the wickedness -of vice—no one would have listened to that—but its folly. When the fops -and gamblers found that they, as well as the honest men they sneered -at, could be made the subject of satire, they began to doubt if their -cherished amusements were such essential characteristics of ‘men of -spirit’ as they had fancied. The gulf that lies between the comedies -of Wycherley and those of Sheridan was first opened by the gentle -raillery of the _Tatler_ and the _Spectator_. The later dramatist had -no keener moral sense than the earlier, but he lived in an atmosphere -which, though by no means pure, was healthier than that breathed by -his predecessor; and in which it was necessary that virtue, however -weak, should in the end defeat the vice that tried to trade upon its -feebleness. - -Of the clear-cut grace of style that distinguished the writing of the -_Spectator_ there is no need to speak; it still remains the model -of English prose, while the tiny, whitish-brown sheet, the perusal -of which used to add to the flavour of Belinda’s morning chocolate, -was the progenitor of the immense mass of periodical literature that -surrounds us to-day. But if the two friends had done nothing more than -give us—Steele the first sketch, Addison the finished portrait, of -old-fashioned, kind, eccentric Sir Roger de Coverley, they would have -deserved a high and loving place in our memory. - -Thirty years later, the figure of another literary man was to be seen -at Hampstead. Not so gorgeous as Dick, not so precise as Addison, is -slovenly, tea-drinking, long-worded Samuel Johnson; but he is their -legitimate successor, nevertheless. He, too, is a man of letters, -living by the produce of his pen, and appealing for support to the -public, and not to the kindness or charity of private patrons. Indeed, -he scorns such condescending patronage, as a certain stinging letter -to Lord Chesterfield remains to testify. In 1748, Mrs Johnson, for the -sake of the country air, took lodgings at Hampstead; and there her -husband wrote his satire, _The Vanity of Human Wishes_. Johnson did -not spend all his time at Hampstead, for he was obliged to return and -drudge in smoky London in order to provide for her comfort. Boswell -tells us that ‘she indulged in country air and good living at an -unsuitable expense; and she by no means treated her husband with that -complacency which is the most engaging quality in a wife.’ Yet Johnson -loved faithfully and mourned sincerely the querulous, exacting woman, -a quarter of a century older than himself, and cherished an undoubting -belief in her beauty; while all save him perceived that if she had ever -possessed any—which they doubted—it had long disappeared. - -Towards the end of the eighteenth century, Hampstead became the -dwelling-place of two famous lawyers, both of them Scotch—Lords -Erskine and Mansfield. Thomas Erskine, youngest son of the tenth Earl -of Buchan, and ‘a penniless lad with a lang pedigree,’ began life -as a midshipman; but disliking the service, he, after his father’s -death, invested the whole of his little patrimony in the purchase -of an ensigncy in the 1st Foot. When, some years later, he felt his -true vocation to be the bar, he was burdened with the responsibility -of a wife and children; and it was only by the exercise of economy -nearly approaching privation that he succeeded in maintaining himself -during the three years’ study that must elapse before he was called to -the bar. Even when he received his qualification, it seemed that he -was to fail through lack of opportunity to display his talents; but -opportunity came at last, and his brilliant career led to the Lord -Chancellorship of England, a peerage, and the Order of the Thistle. -All the power of his oratory and of his ever-increasing influence was -devoted to the promotion of freedom, civil and religious. He stood up -boldly for the independence of juries against the bullying of judges; -he advocated concessions to the Catholics; and carrying his love of -mercy and justice beyond the human race, he brought into parliament a -bill for the prevention of cruelty to animals. The measure failed; for -popular feeling on the subject was then such as is expressed in the -famous couplet— - - Things is come to a pretty pass, - When a man mayn’t wollop his own jackass. - -But before Erskine died, it had become law. - -William Murray, Earl of Mansfield, was the eleventh of the fourteen -children of Viscount Stormont, of the castle of Scone, in Perthshire. -So poor was his lordship, that, as we are told by Mansfield’s -biographer, the only fare he could provide for those fourteen -mouths—which though high-born, were every whit as hungry as if they -had been peasants’—was oatmeal porridge. The family was Jacobite in -politics, so its fortunes were little likely to improve; but by the -influence of Bishop Atterbury, who was at heart a Jacobite too, little -Willie was admitted to Westminster School. He made good use of his -time there; and by listening to the debates in Westminster Hall he -became enamoured of the law, and resolved to devote himself to it. -Difficulties enough lay before him; but by the aid of an indomitable -perseverance, a gentle manner, and a voice so musical that none could -listen to it unmoved, he conquered them all. Throughout his legal -career he was noted for strict integrity and justice. He advocated free -trade and religious toleration, and used every effort in his power to -decrease the waste of time and money in the business of law-courts; but -his greatest title to honour is that he was the first to decide that no -slave could remain a slave on English soil. - -Early in this century, the year after Waterloo was fought, Hampstead -was familiar with the forms of three men to whom life gave only scorn, -insult, and disappointment, yet whose memory lingers about it and makes -it hallowed ground. In 1816, Leigh Hunt lived at Hampstead in a part -called the Vale of Health; and there Keats, who lodged in the village, -and Shelley were his frequent visitors. Each of the three was more or -less a martyr. For the crime of describing the Prince Regent—whose -memory as George IV. is not highly honoured—as an ‘Adonis of fifty,’ -Hunt was thrown into prison; while the political reviews and journals -abused his graceful poems and scholarly essays as if they had been -firebrands, to extinguish which every exertion must be made. They -succeeded in torturing him, in reducing him to poverty and dependence, -but they did not succeed in changing Leigh Hunt’s convictions. He would -not bow down to the Adonis of fifty. - -Shelley was rather a visitor than a resident at Hampstead Heath; -but Keats composed not a few of his poems here. The sorrows of his -sorrowful life had not yet reached their climax in 1816. Already he -was struggling with poverty, disease, and hopeless, passionate love; -but he had not yet published those poems which were to rouse such -wrath in the bosoms of a few critics, and such delight in thousands of -readers. But at Hampstead most of them were written. Here he breathed -life into the long dead myth of Endymion, surrounding it with such a -wealth of description as seems scarcely possible to a youth of such -limited experience. Can commonplace Hampstead Heath, the chosen resort -of Bank-holiday excursionists, be the prototype of that Grecian valley -where the goddess of night stooped to kiss Endymion! Here were written -the sad story of _The Pot of Basil_ and the legend of _The Eve of St -Agnes_; here, in 1819, was composed that most exquisite _Ode to a -Nightingale_, which, even were it his only production, might place -Keats among our greater poets. - -The memory loves to trace the footsteps of departed greatness; but -even did no such recollections as these endear Hampstead Heath, it -would still be precious as a spot where half-asphyxiated Londoners may -inhale a fresh untainted breeze, and children may romp to their hearts’ -content. ‘I like Hampstead Heath much better than Switzerland,’ says a -small boy in one of Du Maurier’s sketches in _Punch_. ‘But you haven’t -seen Switzerland,’ objects his sister, a practical young lady a year -or two older. ‘O yes; I have seen it on the map,’ is his reply. And -if he had really visited Switzerland, the little fellow would perhaps -still have preferred the broken, sandy soil, the grass and ferns, of -Hampstead Heath. - -Du Maurier is the Heath’s own artist. He lives on its borders, and most -of the backgrounds of his out-of-door sketches are borrowed from its -scenery. He may daily be seen there—till lately accompanied by his dog -Chang, the great St Bernard whose portrait has so often appeared in the -pages of _Punch_. But, alas! Chang is no more; he has fallen a victim -to consumption and heart-disease, and Hampstead weeps for him. Seldom -has any dog been so widely lamented. ‘He is mourned by a large circle -of friends,’ said the _World_, ‘and the family of which he was so long -a member is inconsolable for his loss.’ - - - - -BY MEAD AND STREAM. - -BY CHARLES GIBBON. - - -CHAPTER VII.—AN UNLOVED LIFE. - -It was a little time before the father spoke again. But without being -able to see his face, even without being able to hear him breathe, -Philip felt that he was struggling with something in himself. Perhaps -it was only a struggle to regain that composure of manner which he had -temporarily lost. In this he succeeded. But was that all Mr Hadleigh -was struggling with in those few moments of silence? At anyrate, when -he spoke, his voice was steadier than before; more like its ordinary -tone, but without its hardness. - -‘Before I proceed, may I ask what was the purport of the two letters -you received?’ - -‘The one was simply urging me on no account to fail to start in the -_Hertford Castle_ as arranged, and assuring me of such welcome as I -might desire.’ - -‘That was not much to write about. And the other?’ - -‘The other inclosed a note which I am to deliver personally to a firm -of solicitors in the City, and requesting that I should bring with me -the packet they would intrust to my care.’ - -‘Is that all?’ - -‘That is all, sir.’ - -‘One question more. Are you _very_ anxious to make this journey, which -may end in nothing? Is there no one here who could persuade you to give -it up altogether?’ - -Philip was a good deal perplexed as to how he should answer this -question. There was Some one who could have persuaded him to stay at -home; but the sweet voice of that Some one was again whispering in his -ear, ‘It was your mother’s wish that you should go;’ and besides, there -was the natural desire of youth to see strange countries and peoples. - -‘I thought, sir, that this question of my going out to Uncle Shield had -been all settled long ago,’ he replied awkwardly, for he knew that any -reference to the command laid upon him by his mother always disturbed -his father. - -‘That is not an answer to my questions.’ - -‘Well, I consider it my duty to go.’ - -‘And you wish to go?’ - -‘I do—now. Even setting aside the prospects he holds out to me, I feel -that I must go.’ - -The father made a mental note of the fact that his son gave no reply to -the second question; but he did not press it farther at this moment. -He seemed to draw breath, and then went on in a low voice: ‘I think, -Philip, you have not found me an exacting parent. Although I have never -failed to point out to you the way in which it would please me most to -see you walk, I have never insisted upon it. And I will own that on -your part your conduct has been up to a certain point satisfactory.’ - -‘Thank you, sir.’ - -‘That certain point is your procrastination in the choice of your -future career. You have shown that you do not care about business—and -my own conviction is that you are unfitted for it—and you will not -decide upon a profession. Although you have dabbled in medicine and -law, you have not entered earnestly upon the study of either. I have -been patient with this wavering state of mind which you have displayed -ever since you left the university. I do not wish to force you into any -occupation which you may dislike, and would, therefore, certainly fail -in; for then you would console yourself by blaming me for being the -cause of your failure.’ - -‘Oh, no, no—do not think me so ungrateful.’ - -‘But I did hope,’ continued the father calmly, without heeding the -interruption, ‘that before you came to think of marriage, you would -have settled with yourself upon some definite course of action in the -future.’ - -‘Your reproaches are just, sir,’ answered Philip earnestly and with -some agitation, ‘and I deserve them. But this journey will decide what -I am to be and do.’ - -‘I did not mean to reproach you,’ said the father, and again there was -that distant note of sadness which sounded so strangely in his voice; -‘but it seemed to me right to remind you of these things before telling -you the rest. I reproach myself more than you.’ - -‘I do not understand.’ - -‘Listen. My young life was passed in a home which had been suddenly -stricken down from wealth and ease to poverty. On every hand I heard -the one explanation given for my father’s haggard looks, my mother’s -wasting illness, for my poor sister’s white face and constant -drudgery with her needle, and for my own unsatisfied hunger; and that -explanation was—the want of money.... I resolved that I should conquer -this demon that was destroying us all—I resolved that I should have -money.’ - -Here he paused, as if the memory of that time of misery proved too -painful for him. Philip’s sympathetic nature was drawn closer to his -father at that moment than it had ever been before. He rose impulsively -and grasped his arm. In the darkness the forms of the two men were -indistinguishable to each other; but with that sympathetic touch each -saw the other clearly in a new light. - -‘My poor father,’ murmured Philip, clenching his teeth to keep down the -sob that was in his throat. - -There was silence; and at that moment a pale gleam of moonlight stole -across the room. But it seemed only to darken the corner in which the -two men stood. - -By-and-by Mr Hadleigh gently removed his son’s hand. - -‘Sit down again, Philip, or go over to the window so that I may see -you.’ - -Philip walked quietly to a place opposite the window, and putting his -hands behind him, rested them on the ledge of a bookcase, leaning back -so that the light fell full upon his frank, handsome face, making it -look very pale in his anxiety. He knew that his father was gazing -earnestly at him, and as he could not see him, he was glad to hear his -voice again, which in some measure took away the uncomfortable feeling -produced by the singular position. - -‘You know that I gained my object,’ Mr Hadleigh proceeded, with a -mingling of bitterness and regret in his voice; ‘but at what a cost!... -All the lightness of heart which makes the lives of even the poorest -children happy at times—all the warmth of hope and enthusiasm which -brightens the humblest youth, were gone. It was not hope that led me -on: it was determination. All emotion was dead within me: at twenty I -was an old man; and in the hard grasping struggle with which I fought -against the demon Poverty, and won the favour of the greater demon, -Wealth—even love itself was sacrificed.’ - -He paused again; but this time Philip did not speak or move. There was -something so pitiful as well as painful in this confession that he was -dumb. - -‘They—father, mother, sister—all died before I had broken down the -first barrier between me and fortune. I shed no tears: each death in -poverty hardened me more and more.... It was—your mother who enabled me -to break down the first barrier’—— - -‘Ah, I am glad of that,’ exclaimed the son with a burst of happy relief. - -‘Wait. I did not know what love was: I did not love her.’ (Philip -started, but remained silent.) ‘She had money: I married her for it. -She did not love me; but she had quarrelled with the man she did love, -and accepted me in her mad chagrin. We understood each other, and I was -content—she was not. From the day of her marriage to the day of her -death, her life was one weary lamentation that in her moment of passion -I had crossed her path—a life of self-scourging and regret for the man -she loved. I saw it, and knew it; but I did not know what love was, and -I could not pity it. I did know something of hate; and I believed she -hated me.... Had she only cared for me a little, it might have been -different,’ he added in a lower voice, and as if speaking to himself. - -‘You wrong her, father, you wrong her,’ said Philip in a husky, -tremulous voice. - -‘It may be; but I did not know then, what I understand too well now. -A pity, a pity—for it might have been so different! As it was, her -brother turned from her too, and would not forgive her. He hated me—he -hates me: because the lover she had deserted was his close friend; and -whilst I prospered, his friend failed. In a few years the man had lost -everything he possessed, and died—some say by his own hand: killed -by me, as your mother seemed to believe, and as Austin Shield does -believe. I had ruined his life, he said, and I was as much responsible -for his death, as if I had given him poison or shot him. These were the -last words Shield ever spoke to me.’ - -‘It must have been in mere passion. He cannot believe that now, or he -would not send for me.’ - -‘I do not know. I went on my way, unheeding his words, and would have -forgotten him, but for your mother’s grief. I had no home-life; but I -did my duty, as it seemed to me. The money which had been brought to -me was repaid with compound interest: all that money could buy was at -your mother’s command: all that she could wish for her children was -supplied to them, and you all seemed satisfied. But I was not with -you—you were hushed and lifeless in my presence, and seemed only happy -in my absence. Sitting in this room, I have heard your voices raised -in gladness, and if I passed in amongst you, seeking for that strange -something which the Demon Wealth with all his gold could not supply, -it seemed as if the Demon sat upon my shoulder, frightening you and -rendering you speechless. So I lived alone, although so near you, and -my Familiar became kinder and kinder to me, until I wearied of him. I -sought I did not know what, and could not find it.’ - -He stopped, breathing heavily, as if suppressing his emotion. - -‘Oh, if you had only spoken to us as you are speaking to me now, -father!’ cried Philip, so earnestly that it sounded like a reproach. - -‘It would have been better,’ was the sad reply. ‘I tell you these -things that you may understand the proposal I am about to make to you. -I now know what love is, and as too often happens, the knowledge comes -too late. But it will help me in my effort to make two people happy. -Can you guess who they are?’ - -‘I am afraid you must inform me.’ - -‘Yourself and Ma—Miss Heathcote. I propose that you should stay at home -and marry as soon as may be agreeable to the lady. I shall settle upon -you a sufficient fortune to enable you to live comfortably; but I shall -expect you to enter some profession. Do you consent?’ - -Here was a proposal at which Philip’s whole nature jumped gleefully. -But that voice was in his ears, and he overcame the temptation. - -‘It was my mother’s wish that I should go, if my uncle ever summoned -me,’ he said in a respectful but decisive voice, ‘and I must go.’ - -‘So be it,’ rejoined the father, and there was a note of bitterness in -his tone; ‘I shall not again attempt to alter your plans.’ - -There was a peculiar emphasis on the ‘I.’ - - -CHAPTER VIII.—‘WILL YOU SPEAK THAT WORD?’ - -Madge was singing as she dressed in her pretty little room, filled -with the exhilarating breath of the early morning, which the wide open -window admitted freely. This was no dainty lady’s chamber full of -costly nick-knacks. Everything in it was useful, and everything was so -bright and simple, that glancing into it on a winter’s day, one might -have imagined that summer still lingered here. - -As she stood at the chintz-draped toilet-table she could see the green -glades apparently rising amidst the trees, one glade half in shadow, -another with its dewdrops glistening like diamonds in the morning -sunshine. Beyond that on the high ground were yellow plains of ripe -grain, relieved by black and gray patches, which she knew to be fields -of beans and tares. Down below there, at the foot of the meadows, the -calmly flowing river sent silver flashes through every space left by -the willows and elms. Farther on, she saw the stumpy tower of the old -village church struggling to raise its head through a mass of ivy. -And to all this her window, with its surrounding network of rose-tree -branches, formed a suitable frame. - -It was not a blithe song she was singing, and yet the hope that was in -her voice and in her eyes took away from it all thought of sadness. -It was that now old-fashioned but once popular song of the _Soldier’s -Tear_, and she dwelt with sympathy on the lines, ‘Upon the hill he -turned, to take a last fond look.’ She repeated them dreamily again and -again, and then her face would brighten into smiles when the happier -picture presented itself of the time when she should stand on the top -of the hill, or at the more probable although more prosaic railway -station, welcoming Philip home. - -Ah, it was much better to think of that. And then, what was a year, -or what were two years, to reckon in their young lives, when all the -succeeding years would be theirs to pass together—always together—no -matter what Aunt Hessy might say? Besides, there would be his letters! -He would speak to her in them every day, and she would speak to him -every day. Of course, the ridiculous postal arrangements would not -permit them to receive the letters on the day they were written; but -when they _were_ delivered, they would contain a full record of their -daily lives. - -Up from the barnyard came the loud voice of one of the labourers, -rising above the obstreperous squeaking of the pigs he was feeding, as -he drawled out a verse of some rustic ballad— - - Ow Mary Styles, Ow Mary Styles, - It’s ’long ov yow I’m dying, - But if yow won’t have me at last, - Why, then, there’s no use crying. - -A delightful combination of sentiment and philosophy, thought Madge, -smiling. - -Then came the other sounds which intimated that another day’s work of -the farm had begun. The milk-cans rattled as they were whirled out of -the dairy to the waiting carts; merry jests were passed between the -men and maids; harness clattered and clanked as the horses were put -into the carts or reaping-machine; and there was much horse-language -mingling with the confusion of dialects as the harvest hands turned out -to the fields. The melancholy ‘moo’ of the cows rose from the barn as, -having been milked, they were driven out to the meadows; the cocks, -although they had been crowing since daybreak, crowed with louder -defiance than ever, now that their hens were cackling and clucking -around them; and the ducks emitted their curious self-satisfied ‘quack’ -as they waggled off to the pond. - -All these sounds warned Madge that she was somewhat later than usual in -getting downstairs. - -She was a little startled when she discovered on the hall table a -letter bearing the Ringsford Manor crest; for she knew at once it -was not from Philip, and feared that some mishap might have befallen -him. She knew it was not from him, because he never used this crest, -although all the other members of the family did. It had been the -outcome of Miss Hadleigh’s vanity, to which the others took kindly, -whilst Philip laughed at it. - -She learned that the note had been delivered about half an hour ago by -young Jerry Mogridge, who left a special message that the ‘flunkey’ who -gave it to him said it was to be given to her the moment she came down. -She was surprised to find that it was from Philip’s father, and still -more surprised by its contents. - - MY DEAR MISS HEATHCOTE—The unusual hour at which this will - be delivered will at once apprise you that the motive which - prompts it is an important one. I cannot tell you how important - it is in my eyes; and I hope and believe that you will not only - appreciate the motive, but cordially sympathise with it. - - Only a few hours ago I had to ask your assistance in a matter - which entirely concerned myself; in the present instance I have - to ask your assistance in a matter on which, I believe, your - own happiness depends. You shall judge for yourself; and your - answer will enable me to decide a question which has of late - occupied my mind a great deal. - - You have not hitherto heard me raise any objection to the - journey Philip is about to make. To-day I decided that he ought - not to go away. But after a long and painful conversation with - him, I find that no words of mine can move him from his purpose. - - Now, my dear Miss Heathcote, will you help me to hold him back - from this useless enterprise? - - I think you will—unless I am mistaken as to the nature of your - feelings in regard to him. - - My first and chief reason for desiring to keep him at home is - my anxiety to see you and him happy—to see you two united, and - him, under your influence, working earnestly in some profession. - - I fear there is much danger that this desire of mine will - never be realised, if he is permitted to spend a year with one - who would delight in thwarting any wish of mine. You know his - impulsive and impressionable nature. You are too young for - experience to have taught you—and I earnestly trust it may - never teach you—that absence, change of scene, and adverse - counsels are not the most favourable conditions for keeping the - most honest man steadfast. - - Pray, do not misunderstand me. I do not doubt Philip. He is - honest; but with such a nature as his, I think the trial of his - honesty is too severe; and I object to it all the more because - it is absolutely unnecessary. My proposal to him is that he - should abandon this journey, that he should enter a profession - at once, and that you should be married at as early a date as - you may be inclined to fix. I need not say that you will be - provided with ample means. - - In the course of my life, few of the desires springing from my - affections have been gratified. I beg of you to gratify this - one. Although he resolutely declines to forego his purpose - for my sake, I feel assured that you have only to speak one - word—‘stay’—and he will forego it for yours. - - Will you speak that word? - - Believe me, your humble servant, - - LLOYD HADLEIGH. - -There was something so pathetic and yet so strange in this appeal of -the father that she should keep his son near him, that Madge was pained -as well as bewildered. Keep Philip at home!—marry him!—be happy!—help -to steady his impulsive nature and influence him in some good work! -What else was there that she could desire more? How beautiful the -visions were that these suggestions conjured up. Her face brightened as -if a blaze of sunshine fell upon it ... and then it suddenly darkened. - -She, too, like Philip remembered the dead mother’s wish, and hesitated. -But the question presented itself: if his mother had been alive now and -had understood all the circumstances, would she have insisted upon this -wish—which seemed to cause the father so much anxiety—being carried out? - -She read the letter again, and this time her cheeks flushed a little at -the doubt of her implied in the words, ‘unless I am mistaken as to the -nature of your feelings.’ The unpleasant sensation was only momentary. -How could he—how even could Philip—realise her feelings? But she also -became conscious of a certain vagueness in the reasons given for the -anxiety expressed by Mr Hadleigh. Were she to grant the appeal, would -it not be a proof of her want of faith in Philip? _That_ idea was -enough to make her answer ‘no’ at once. - -And yet she hesitated. The poor old man was evidently very much in -earnest. (She always thought of Mr Hadleigh as an old man, older than -Uncle Dick, although he was twenty years younger than the latter.) To -say ‘no’ would cause him much pain: to say ‘yes’ would afford him much -happiness, and at the same time bring about the completion of her own. - -There was a yelping of dogs, and above it the stentorian voice of her -uncle shouting: ‘Down, Dash, down—here, Rover, here—be quiet, Tip, you -brute.’ - -The door opened, dogs rushed in and bounded round Madge in wild -delight. They were followed by Uncle Dick, his fresh ruddy face beaming -with the happiness of health and content. - -‘What are you dreaming about, Madge? Breakfast ready? We are as hungry -as if we had been starving for a week. Thought I should have met you in -the meadow as usual. What’s the matter?’ - -‘I am trying to solve a riddle, uncle.’ - -‘What!’ he exclaimed with a burst of laughter, ‘at this time in the -morning. O ho! I see Master Philip was here too long yesterday.’ - -‘Will you try it?’ - -‘Don’t be a fool. Call the Missus and let’s have breakfast.’ - -‘To please me, uncle,’ she said, putting her hand on his arm. - -‘Well, what is it?’ - -‘Suppose somebody asked you to do something that you wanted to do -yourself, what would you say?’ - -‘That’s easily answered—yes, of course.’ - -‘But, suppose there were reasons connected with other people on account -of which you ought to say “no,” what would you do?’ - -‘Please myself.—Now, let’s have our victuals, and confound your -riddles, or I’ll send for the doctor and the parson at once.’ - -There was not much help to Madge in this easy settlement of the -difficulty. But she had a maxim which did help her: whenever you have -a doubt as to which of two courses you should take, choose the one -which is least agreeable to yourself. She decided to follow it in this -instance, as she had done in many others of less importance. - - - - -THE MUSE OF PARODY. - - -Reader, are you of those who cannot tolerate their favourite authors -or their favourite poems being parodied? A lady-friend of the -writer’s lately said, in regard to one of the best-known poems of a -distinguished poet: ‘I admired and liked it once; but I can hardly -read it now, since I saw that dreadful parody of it that appeared in -_Punch_.’ If you are of this sensitive class, we fear this article is -not for you. But we feel pretty sure of an audience; for we know that -the large majority of readers can relish a clever parody without in -the least losing their enjoyment in or respect for the thing parodied. -And it is well that it is so; for parody in some shape and to some -extent is early as the beginnings of literature itself; and if the -fame of poets depended on their immunity from travesty, every poet -that has ever won his bays, and whose reputation now rests secure and -impregnable, would have been laughed out of court long since. - -In speaking of modern English parody, one’s thoughts turn first, almost -inevitably, to the brothers Horace and James Smith, who, in _Rejected -Addresses_, may be regarded as the first to practise parody in a -systematised fashion, as a vehicle of fun and humour. The _Rejected -Addresses_ won high praise from Jeffrey, who pronounced the parody on -Crabbe ‘an exquisite and masterly imitation;’ while the poet himself -declared it to be ‘admirably done.’ We shall give a short extract -from it, which we think hits off Crabbe’s manner in a way that fully -justifies Jeffrey’s criticism: - - John Richard William Alexander Dwyer - Was footman to Justinian Stubbs, Esquire; - But when John Dwyer listed in the Blues, - Emanuel Jennings polished Stubbs’s shoes. - Emanuel Jennings brought his youngest boy - Up as a corn-cutter—a safe employ; - In Holywell Street, St Pancras, he was bred - (At number twenty-seven, it is said), - Pacing the pump, and near the Granby’s Head. - He would have bound him to some shop in town, - But with a premium he could not come down. - Pat was the urchin’s name—a red-haired youth, - Fonder of purl and skittle-grounds than truth. - -In regard to the parody of Sir Walter Scott in _Rejected Addresses_, -the poet himself said: ‘I must have done it myself, though I forget -on what occasion.’ Here are a few lines descriptive of the Drury Lane -Theatre on fire: - - At length the mist awhile was cleared, - When lo! amid the wreck upreared, - Gradual a moving head appeared, - And Eagle firemen knew - ’Twas Joseph Muggins, name revered, - The foreman of their crew. - Loud shouted all in signs of woe, - ‘A Muggins to the rescue, ho!’ - And poured the hissing tide. - -Thackeray was especially happy and especially funny in his Irish -burlesques. _Larry O’Toole_, a parody of the rollicking Irish -bacchanalian songs with which Charles Lever made us so familiar, -admirably hits the medium between close imitation and high burlesque. -There is a dash in it both of _Larry O’Hale_ and the _Widow Malone_. We -quote two of the three verses: - - You’ve all heard of Larry O’Toole, - Of the beautiful town of Drumgoole. - He had but one eye - To ogle ye by; - Och, murther, but that was a jew’l! - A fool - He made of the girls, this O’Toole. - - ’Twas he was the boy didn’t fail, - That tuck down purtaties and mail; - He never would shrink - From any sthrong dthrink; - Was it whisky or Drogheda ale, - I’m bail - This Larry would swallow a pail. - -Moore’s well-known lines— - - I never nursed a young gazelle - To glad me with its soft dark eye, - But when it came to know me well, - And love me, it was sure to die— - -have been frequently parodied. Here is one version which, we think, is -not very familiar: - - I never had a piece of toast - Particularly long and wide, - But fell upon the sanded floor, - And always on the buttered side. - -The following is by Mr H. C. Pennel, author of _Puck on Pegasus_: - - I never roved by Cynthia’s beam, - To gaze upon the starry sky, - But some old stiff-backed beetle came, - And charged into my pensive eye. - - And oh! I never did the swell - In Regent Street among the beaus, - But smuts the most prodigious fell, - And always settled on my nose! - -In those two delightful volumes, _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Through the -Looking-glass_, ‘Lewis Carroll’ gives us some capital travesties. Mr -Southey’s poem beginning ‘“You are old, Father William,” the young man -said,’ is so familiar, that every reader will appreciate the point of -the burlesque, without needing the original before him: - - ‘You are old, Father William,’ the young man said, - ‘And your hair has become very white; - And yet you incessantly stand on your head— - Do you think at your age it is right?’ - - ‘In my youth,’ Father William replied to his son, - ‘I thought it might injure the brain; - But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none, - Why, I do it again and again.’ - -The old nursery song, ‘“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider -to the Fly,’ the same writer has likewise burlesqued: - - ‘Will you walk a little faster?’ said a whiting to a snail; - ‘There’s a porpoise close behind me, and he’s treading on my tail. - See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! - They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance? - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? - Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?’ - -The late Mr J. R. Planché, whose innumerable fairy extravaganzas were -so full of fun and humour, was also an expert in parody. We give the -first verse of a burlesque by him of the once popular song, _When other -Lips_: - - When other lips and other eyes - Their tales of love shall tell— - Which means the usual sort of lies - You’ve heard from every swell; - When, bored with every sort of bosh, - You’d give the world to see - A friend whose love you know will wash, - Oh, then remember me! - -The funniest burlesque of Wordsworth’s _We are Seven_, with which we -are acquainted, is by Mr H. S. Leigh: - - ‘I thought it would have sent me mad - Last night about eleven.’ - Said I: ‘What is it makes you bad? - How many apples have you had?’ - She answered: ‘Only seven.’ - - ‘And are you sure you took no more, - My little maid?’ quoth I. - ‘Oh, please, sir, mother gave me four, - But they were in a pie.’ - - ‘If that’s the case,’ I stammered out, - ‘Of course you’ve had eleven.’ - The maiden answered with a pout: - ‘I ain’t had more nor seven.’ - -Here are four lines from a travesty of Tennyson’s _May Queen_— - - ‘You may lay me in my bed, mother—my head is throbbing sore; - And mother, prithee, let the sheets be duly aired before; - And if you’d do a kindness to your poor desponding child, - Draw me a pot of beer, mother—and, mother, draw it mild.’ - -It is not necessary to name the original of the following. We quote two -of the three verses which compose the whole: - - He wore a brace of pistols, the night when first we met; - His deep-lined brow was frowning beneath his wig of jet; - His footsteps had the moodiness, his voice the hollow tone, - Of a bandit chief, who feels remorse, and tears his hair alone. - I saw him but at half-price, but methinks I see him now, - In the tableau of the last act, with the blood upon his brow. - - A _private_ bandit’s belt and boots, when next we met, he wore; - His salary, he told me, was lower than before; - And standing at the O. P. wing, he strove, and not in vain, - To borrow half a sovereign, which he never paid again. - I saw it but a moment—and I wish I saw it now— - As he buttoned up his pocket with a condescending bow. - -Tennyson’s well-known lyric, _Home they brought her warrior dead_, has -been thus amusingly parodied by Mr Sawyer: - - Home they brought her sailor son, - Grown a man across the sea, - Tall and broad, and black of beard, - And hoarse of voice as man may be. - - Hand to shake, and mouth to kiss, - Both he offered ere he spoke; - But she said: ‘What man is this - Comes to play a sorry joke?’ - - Then they praised him, called him ‘smart,’ - ‘Tightest lad that ever stept;’ - But her son she did not know, - And she neither smiled nor wept. - - Rose, a nurse of ninety years, - Set a pigeon-pie in sight; - She saw him eat: ‘’Tis he, ’tis he!’ - She knew him—by his appetite. - -The following clever parody of Wordsworth’s _Lucy_ is but little known. -It was written by Hartley Coleridge, and reappeared some years ago in -_Notes and Queries_. We shall quote the first verse of the original: - - She dwelt among the untrodden ways, - Beside the banks of Dove; - A maid whom there were none to praise, - And very few to love. - -We give two of the three verses composing the parody: - - He lived among the untrodden ways, - To Rydal Mount that lead; - A bard whom there were none to praise, - And very few to read. - - Unread his works—his _Milk-white Doe_ - With dust is dark and dim; - It’s still in Longman’s shop; and oh! - The difference to him! - -From a parody of Tennyson’s _Mariana_, which appeared in an Australian -paper, we take the concluding verse. The burden of the original ballad, -it will be remembered, runs: - - She only said: ‘My life is dreary; - He cometh not,’ she said; - She said: ‘I am aweary, aweary— - I would that I were dead!’ - - They lifted him with kindly care; - They took him by the heels and head; - Across the floor, and up the stair, - They bore him safely to his bed. - They wrapped the blankets warm and tight, - And round about his nose and chin - They drew the sheets, and tucked them in, - And whispered: ‘Poor old boy—Good-night!’ - He murmured: ‘Boys, oh, deary, deary, - That punch _was_ strong,’ he said; - He said: ‘I am aweary, aweary— - Thank heaven, I’ve got to bed!’ - -An American magazine published some years ago a series of burlesques of -the old nursery rhymes, of which we give specimens: - - Little Jack Horner, - Of Latin no scorner, - In the second declension did spy - How of nouns there are some - Which, ending in _um_, - Do _not_ make their plural in _i_. - - Jack and Jill - Have studied Mill, - And all that sage has taught too; - Now both promote - Jill’s claim to vote, - As every good girl ought to. - -The case for the evolutionists is thus tersely put by an American poet, -parodying _Sing a song of Sixpence_: - - Sing a song of phosphates, - Fibrine in a line, - Four-and-twenty follicles - In the van of time. - When the phosphorescence - Evoluted brain, - Superstition ended, - Man began to reign. - -Pope’s familiar couplet— - - Here shall the spring its earliest sweets bestow, - Here the first roses of the year shall blow— - -has been thus travestied by Miss Catherine Fanshawe, who accomplishes -the step from the sublime to the ridiculous by the change of two words -only: - - Here shall the spring its earliest coughs bestow, - Here the first noses of the year shall blow. - -Among living parodists, few, if any, excel Mr C. S. Calverley, who -seems to possess every qualification for success in this sort of work. -The reader will at once recognise how happily he has caught Tennyson’s -method and manner in the following parody of _The Brook_, especially in -the blank-verse portion. We quote two verses and the conclusion: - - ‘I loiter down by thorp and town; - For any job I’m willing; - Take here and there a dusty brown, - And here and there a shilling. - - ‘I steal from th’ parson’s strawberry plats, - I hide by the Squire’s covers; - I teach the sweet young housemaids what’s - The art of trapping lovers.’ - - Thus on he prattled like a babbling brook. - But I: ‘The sun hath slipt behind the hill, - And my Aunt Vivian dines at half-past six.’ - So in all love we parted; I to the Hall; - They to the village. It was noised next noon - That chickens had been missed at Syllabub Farm. - -We had noted down several other examples of parody by different -authors, which might have served further to illustrate our subject. Our -selections have necessarily lost something of force and pertinence, -from the fragmentary condition in which we have been obliged to present -them; but the reader, if he be sufficiently interested in the matter, -may easily go to the original sources. - -It needs not to be pointed out that there are limits to parody, as to -all other forms of light and sportive literature, whose main object is, -after all, to divert and amuse. Good taste should guide the course of -parody, in fact should never be absent from it. Let the parodist hit as -hard as he pleases, but let him deal no foul blow, nor aim his strokes -at aught that tradition and the world’s verdict have made sacred -and to be revered. Parody may be as clever, laughable, and amusing -as you can make it; but it should always be good-natured, fair, and -gentlemanly. - - - - -TWO DAYS IN A LIFETIME. - -A STORY IN EIGHT CHAPTERS. - -BY T. W. SPEIGHT. - - -CHAPTER V. - -After his rebuff by Lady Dimsdale, the Baronet made up his mind to -set off home as soon as possible. He was stung as he had rarely been -stung in his life before, and was in no humour for the company of any -one. But before he could get away, an almost incredible rumour reached -his ears that Mr Boyd’s long-lost wife had unexpectedly appeared at -Rosemount. This was enough to induce Sir Frederick to change his plans, -especially when backed up by the Captain’s pressing invitation to stay -for dinner, for who could tell what unexpected turn events might now -take? So he sent his groom in the dogcart to fetch his dress clothes, -and made up his mind to remain where he was till the following morning. - -Sir Frederick had easily discovered, by questioning one of the -servants, in which particular room Mr Boyd and his wife had located -themselves. It was the room next the library. So into the library -went Sir Frederick, on the pretext of having some letters to write, -and there he sat with the door a little way open—waiting. A certain -strange idea was fermenting in his brain, which he could not get rid of -till he had satisfied himself whether it had any foundation in fact or -otherwise. The moment he saw Boyd pass the library door, he knew that -the opportunity for which he had been waiting had come. - -Sir Frederick advanced a step or two, and looked round, as if in search -of some one. ‘Pardon my intrusion,’ he said with a bow; ‘but—Mr Boyd—is -he not here?’ - -‘Mr Boyd has left the room for a few minutes. He will be back -presently.’ - -The Baronet gave a well-simulated start at the first sound of Mrs -Boyd’s voice. Then he seemed to regard her attentively for a moment -or two, with his head a little on one side. ‘Pardon me,’ he said with -a half-smile of inquiry, ‘but have I not the honour of addressing Mrs -Boyd?’ - -At this question she seemed to freeze suddenly. Her eyes traversed him -from head to foot before she answered him; then in cold clear tones she -said: ‘I am the wife of Oscar Boyd.’ - -‘I thought I could not be mistaken,’ replied the Baronet, with his most -insinuating smile.—‘I am Sir Frederick Pinkerton. But it is so long -since I had the pleasure of seeing you last, that in all probability -you have quite forgotten me.’ - -There was something about him that had evidently aroused her -suspicions. She was at a loss to know what ground to take with him. -‘Yes—I cannot quite call you to mind,’ she said hesitatingly, after a -little pause. ‘And yet? No. Tell me where I have seen you before.’ - -‘At New Orleans.’ - -‘Ha! I have not been at New Orleans for many years.’ - -‘I met you on two or three occasions in society, a few months after -your marriage.’ - -‘Yes—I think I remember you now. But it is a long time ago, monsieur, -and I was introduced to so many people about that time.’ - -‘I entertain a very distinct recollection of you, madam.’ - -‘I am indeed flattered, monsieur.’ She smiled a little set smile, which -came and went as if it were produced by clockwork. She was evidently -far from being at her ease. - -‘Your unexpected appearance must have been a great surprise to Mr -Boyd—a surprise and a pleasure in one. The return of a wife whom he -believed to have been lost to him for ever several years ago! What a -unique experience!’ - -‘An experience, monsieur, which very few husbands, I am afraid, would -care to have brought home to themselves. You have an English proverb, -“Out of sight, out of mind.” That is a very true proverb.’ - -‘Fie, fie! Mrs Boyd. You must not be so severe on us poor men. We are -not all alike. Take your own case as an instance. You come back, from -the tomb as it were, after I know not how many years, and find your -husband still faithful to your memory.—Ah no; you must not malign us -all.’ - -Was he mocking her, or what, this smiling, smooth-faced man? She was -becoming more vaguely uneasy every minute, she scarcely knew why. - -‘The sight of you this morning, Mrs Boyd,’ resumed the Baronet, -‘brings to my memory a certain little incident which I had all but -forgotten. In those days, I was something of a traveller. About a -year subsequently to my introduction to you, madam, I found myself in -Mexico.’ - -Mrs Boyd could not repress a start, but she did not speak. - -‘While there, singular to say, I made the acquaintance of a certain -relative of yours, who inquired most particularly concerning your -welfare.’ - -Mrs Boyd’s face might have been seen to pale even under its artificial -colouring. She steadied her voice by an effort. ‘Of a relation of mine, -monsieur! May I ask his name?’ - -‘Don Diego Riaz.’ He pronounced the name slowly, looking fixedly at her -the while. - -‘Ha!’ She fell back a step, as if some one had aimed a blow at her, and -then one hand went up quickly to her heart. Both hatred and fear shone -out of the eyes with which she stared at him. - -‘By heavens! I have hit the mark,’ said the Baronet to himself. - -‘Who can this man be? How much does he know?’ was her unspoken thought. - -‘I am afraid you are ill, Mrs Boyd,’ remarked the Baronet. - -‘A spasm; a mere nothing,’ she answered.—‘To return to what you were -saying. I have neither seen nor heard anything of Don Diego Riaz for -many years, and I hope neither to see nor hear anything of him in time -to come. There was no love lost between him and me.’ - -‘His was a singular character, and strange tales were told of him. For -instance, it was whispered that on one occasion when a certain member -of his family left home without his knowledge or consent, he’—— - -‘Spare me the recital, I pray of you. The mere mention of that man’s -name is hateful to me! utterly hateful!’ Her voice was charged with -passion, her black eyes seemed to strike fire. She walked across to the -window and then came back again. - -Sir Frederick felt that he had pursued the topic as far as it was safe -to do so. ‘’Tis she; I can no longer doubt,’ he murmured to himself. ‘I -have not forgotten what I was told in Mexico.’ - -‘How much or how little does this man know?’ Estelle kept asking -herself. She was seriously uneasy. - -‘Do you purpose making a long stay in England, Mrs Boyd?’ asked the -Baronet in his most matter-of-fact tone. - -‘I think not, Sir Frederick. My husband talks about sailing for South -America in a few days. He has lost nearly the whole of his fortune. -_N’est ce pas?_’ - -‘I believe so. I was prodigiously sorry to hear of it.—Do you accompany -your husband abroad, Mrs Boyd?’ - -‘Monsieur! Is it not a wife’s duty to accompany her husband anywhere -and everywhere? And consider for how many years Oscar and I have been -separated! He would not leave me behind him for the world.’ - -‘Yours must be a romantic story, Mrs Boyd. I hope we shall have the -pleasure of hearing from your lips some particulars of your marvellous -escape.’ - -At this moment Mrs Bowood entered the room. She could contain herself -no longer. What was Mr Boyd about, that he did not at once introduce -his wife to herself and the Captain? Then she was dying to apologise -for her mistake of the morning; besides which, her sense of hospitality -was outraged by the fact that Mrs Boyd had been all this time in the -house without having been shown to her rooms or asked to partake of -refreshments of any kind. Such a state of affairs must be put an end to -forthwith. - -Mrs Bowood came forward with her most genial smile. ‘I am come to -apologise for my absurd mistake of this morning, though it was partly -your own fault, my dear Mrs Boyd.’ She had hold of both Estelle’s hands -by this time. ‘How do you do? How do you do? Allow me to welcome you -to Rosemount.—Ah, Sir Frederick, you here?’ This was said with some -surprise. - -‘I had the honour of making Mrs Boyd’s acquaintance several years ago.’ - -‘Wonders will never cease.’ Then turning to Estelle, she went on: ‘Only -to think that I mistook you for a French governess! But you ought to -have let me know at first who you were, and then matters would have -been set right at once.’ - -‘I wanted to surprise my husband,’ answered Estelle, with downcast -eyes. ‘I wanted to see whether he would know me again, after so long a -time.’ - -‘As if he could help knowing you and he your husband! I can imagine how -overjoyed he must have been to see you again.’ - -‘_Cher_ Oscar! He was distracted with joy. He could scarcely speak to -me at first for emotion.’ - -Sir Frederick smiled cynically, but did not speak. - -‘No chance for Laura now,’ said Mrs Bowood to herself. ‘How fortunate -this woman did not come a day later.’ - -Mrs Bowood had left the room-door wide open, and at this juncture her -eye caught sight of Lady Dimsdale, who was passing along the corridor -on her way to the side-door that opened into the grounds. ‘Laura, -Laura! come here,’ she called. ‘I want to introduce you to Mrs Boyd.’ - -‘The woman he kissed!’ muttered Estelle between her teeth. - -‘Checkmate for my Lady Disdain,’ remarked Sir Frederick to himself with -a shrug. - -Lady Dimsdale hearing herself called by name turned back, and entered -the room. She looked a little paler than ordinary, but was perfectly -composed. Going straight up to Estelle, she held out her hand. ‘Mrs -Boyd and I have met already,’ she said in her most matter-of-fact tone. - -‘Ah, _oui_,’ answered Estelle with a shrug, as she took the proffered -hand for a moment and then let it drop. - -‘Met before!’ exclaimed Mrs Bowood in amazement. - -‘A couple of hours ago,’ said Lady Dimsdale. - -‘For one minute only,’ explained Estelle. - -‘Then I must introduce you.—This is Lady Dimsdale, one of my dearest -friends.—Laura—Mrs Boyd.’ - -‘I am enchanted to make the acquaintance of Lady Dimsdale.’ - -‘’Tis a pity Lady D. cannot return the compliment,’ muttered Sir -Frederick to himself. - -Mrs Bowood turned to him. ‘By-the-bye, Sir Frederick, have you seen the -Captain since luncheon?’ With that the two crossed over to the window -and began to talk together. - -‘Mrs Boyd, I feel that some explanation is due to you,’ said Lady -Dimsdale in a low voice to the other. - -‘I have not asked for any explanation, Lady Dimsdale.’ - -‘I repeat that one is due to you.’ - -‘As you please,’ answered the other, with a little lifting of her -shoulders; and with that she sat down and yawned unmistakably behind -her handkerchief. - -‘Mr Boyd and I were acquainted many years ago, before he went abroad,’ -began Lady Dimsdale. ‘He was a frequent visitor at my father’s -vicarage. After he went away, I never saw him again till yesterday. -This morning, fully believing that you had been dead for many years, he -asked me to become his wife.’ - -‘You did not say No,’ sneered Estelle. - -‘At that moment you entered the room.’ - -‘It was very bad taste on my part, I confess. Had I known how you were -engaged, I would have waited five minutes longer.’ - -‘With all my heart, I wish that you had come an hour sooner!’ - -‘I told you that I did not require any explanation. Now that you have -chosen to press one on me, what is the value of it? _Absolument rien!_ -The world is wide, and one kiss more or less is of little consequence.’ -She rose, and crossed to the table and opened a book of photographs. - -‘And that woman is Oscar Boyd’s wife!’ said Lady Dimsdale to herself as -she looked after her. Her heart was very, very bitter. - -Mrs Bowood turned as Estelle crossed to the table. ‘I am afraid you -will think us all very inhospitable, Mrs Boyd,’ she said; ‘but it is -your husband’s fault that you did not come in to luncheon. However, a -tray will be ready for you in a few minutes. By-the-bye, has any one -shown you your rooms?’ - -‘My rooms, madame! We—that is, my husband and I—are going to London by -the next train. At least, that is what Oscar says.’ - -‘Going away by the next train! Mr Boyd had promised to stay a week, and -why need he go away because you have arrived?’ - -‘I only know, madame, that he told me he was going away.’ - -‘That will never do. I must talk to him; and Captain Bowood must talk -to him; and you, Lady Dimsdale, and you, Sir Frederick, must add -your persuasions to ours to induce Mr Boyd not to run away from us -in this sudden fashion. Next week we have two picnics and an archery -meeting—and Mrs Boyd has been so long away from England!’ - -‘I am sure Mr Boyd can’t be hard-hearted enough to resist all our -entreaties,’ said the Baronet. ‘The influence of Lady Dimsdale alone -might’—— - -‘You rate my influence too highly, Sir Frederick,’ interrupted Laura -hastily, while a warm flush mounted to her cheek. ‘In a matter like -this, Mr Boyd probably knows his own business better than any one.’ - -The Baronet, in nowise disconcerted, turned to Estelle: ‘To run away -from us so soon would be cruel indeed.’ Then to Mrs Bowood: ‘I am sure -we are all anxious for the pleasure of Mrs Boyd’s further acquaintance. -We want to know her better—we want to hear the story of her adventures, -of her wonderful escape from shipwreck.’ - -‘A dangerous man this—I hate him!’ muttered Estelle between her teeth. - -‘Yes—of course—the story of the shipwreck,’ cried impulsive Mrs Bowood. -‘I had forgotten that for the moment. We are all dying to hear it.’ - -Estelle’s eyes were on Lady Dimsdale. ‘The woman he kissed says -nothing,’ was her unspoken comment. Then turning to Mrs Bowood, -she said: ‘The shipwreck? O yes, I will tell you all about the -shipwreck—but not to-day. I am a little tired.’ - -‘I am sure you must be, and hungry too. We have all been very remiss,’ -replied the mistress of Rosemount. Then putting her arm into that of -Estelle, she added: ‘But your tray will be ready by this time, and Mr -Boyd must join you when he comes down. Meanwhile, I want to introduce -you to Captain Bowood.—Laura, dear, you are coming?’ - -‘I will join you in a few minutes,’ was Lady Dimsdale’s reply. She -wanted to be alone. - -Mrs Bowood and Estelle quitted the room together. Sir Frederick -lingered behind for a moment. - -‘What a happy man our friend Boyd must be to-day.—Don’t you think so, -dear Lady Dimsdale?’ he said with a smirk. - -‘Very happy, Sir Frederick,’ answered Laura, looking him steadily in -the eyes. ‘Who can doubt it?’ - -‘Lucky dog! lucky dog!’ ejaculated the Baronet as he followed the other -ladies from the room. - -Lady Dimsdale sank into an easy-chair. ‘His wife! His wife!’ How the -words kept ringing in her brain. ‘Thank heaven she came at the moment -she did, and not five minutes later! And yet if she had come an hour -sooner, that would have been better still. Would it? I don’t know. I -cannot tell. His words were so sweet to me! Did I answer him? No. He -looked into my eyes and read his answer there. And now I must never see -him or think of him more! Oh, my darling—the love of my girlhood—the -only love of my life—it is hard to bear, hard to bear!’ She felt as if -her heart were surcharged with tears; they glistened in her eyes. - -At this moment Oscar Boyd entered the room. He gave a little start -when he saw who was in it. He had not expected to find her there. From -the head of the staircase, just as he was on the point of coming down, -he had seen his wife and Mrs Bowood enter the dining-room, and he -guessed what had happened during his absence. The hard set look on his -pale face softened inexpressibly as his eyes rested on Lady Dimsdale. -‘Laura!’ he said, pausing for an instant with the handle of the door in -his hand. - -She neither looked up nor answered him; for a moment or two she was -afraid to trust either her eyes or her voice. - -He shut the door, and went forward and took one of her hands. ‘Laura!’ -he said again, and there was a world of tenderness in the way he -pronounced that one little word. - -Then she looked up, and he saw the tears shining in her eyes. ‘Oscar!—I -may call you so for the last time—we ought to have parted without -another word.’ - -‘I could not have gone away without seeing you again, if only for a few -minutes.’ - -‘You _are_ going away?’ - -‘By the next train.’ - -‘It is better so.’ - -‘Laura! when I spoke to you this morning, it was in the full belief -that I was a free man—that no tie existed on earth to debar me from -saying the words I said then.’ - -‘I know it—I know it.’ - -‘The woman—my wife—whom I had every reason to believe had died long -ago, will accompany me when I leave this place. But to-morrow she and I -will part for ever. Her future will be duly cared for, and after that I -shall never see her again. Laura! you and I may never meet again after -to-day. Think of me sometimes when I am far away.’ - -‘Always—always.’ - -‘O heavens, when I think how happy we might have been! And now!’ Strong -man though he was, it was all he could do to keep himself from breaking -down. He was possessed by an almost irresistible impulse to fling his -arms round her and press her passionately to his heart. - -Love’s fine instinct told Laura something of what was passing in his -breast. She stood up and laid one hand softly on his arm. ‘You had -better go now,’ she said very gently. ‘No more words are needed between -you and me. We know what we know, and no one can deprive us of that -knowledge.’ - -He felt the wisdom of her words. To delay that which was inevitable was -merely to prolong her misery and his own. Besides, his wife might enter -the room at any moment. And yet—and yet it was so hard to have his -treasure torn from him at the very moment he had made it his own! - -Laura had a rose in the bosom of her dress. She took it out and fixed -it in his button-hole. ‘Now go. Not another word,’ she whispered. - -‘I shall write to you once before I sail,’ he said. - -‘No—no; better not.’ - -He did not dispute the point, but took each of her hands in one of his. -For the space of a few seconds they stood heart to heart, as it were, -gazing into each other’s eyes. Then Oscar lifted first one hand and -then the other, and pressed them to his lips with a sort of reverent -passionate tenderness. ‘Farewell, my darling, farewell!’ - -The words struck a chill to her heart. They were the last anguished cry -of love and happiness lost for ever. - - - - -GLIMPSES OF THE SCOT ABROAD. - - -A few years ago, I was what is called a ‘globe-trotter,’ by which -title, as the reader knows, is meant that distinctively modern -personage—the world-tourist. He is the creation of the steamboat -and the rail, and of all the Ariel-like capabilities due to recent -discoveries and improvements in locomotion by land and sea. The term -globe-trotter is suggestive. One conjures up a traveller, knapsack on -back, poking his nose into the Himalayas, sauntering across Sahara, -brushing past the Pyramids, leaving his card at Calcutta, scampering -over the American prairie, lunching at Rome, and dropping in to see the -Seven Churches of Asia. The voyager of to-day can buttonhole Old Father -Time, and be on familiar terms with his primal relative Space. It was -thus that in the course of two or three years I was fortunate enough to -visit most of the embryo kingdoms which make up our colonial empire, -as well as Britain’s great dependency in the East. As need scarcely be -said, I boasted a note-book, for what traveller of this era is without -one, wherewith on his return to publish Passages, Reminiscences, -Fly-leaves, or Jottings of his unique wanderings? From the memoranda -made during this tour round the world, I have compiled several -incidents connected with the Scot abroad. These pretend to be nothing -more than ripples on the current of colonial life, giving slight hints -as to moods and bearing of the Scot abroad, in the varying scenes of -his exile. - -It is a truism to say that Scotsmen are to be found in every corner of -the habitable globe. As I once heard a Melbourne Englishman remark: ‘If -there were no Scotchmen, what would the world do for bank-managers?’ -They have been noted as enterprising emigrants, and, in a large number -of cases, successful colonists. I met with few instances of Scotchmen -complaining in respect of their material welfare. One man in Queensland -had a somewhat unique grievance, which, however, he set forth with a -twinkle in the eye: ‘There’s the government spendin’ pounds upon pounds -in bringin’ oot folk to this country, while here’s me wi’ fifteen -bairns, maistly a’ born here, an’ I’ve never got a penny for ony o’ -them!’ - -Otago is perhaps the most Scottish of any portion of the colonial -empire, though Ontario runs it very close. Dunedin is almost undiluted -in its Scottish nationality, and is a city of considerable stir. -Sabbatarian questions, as well as the question of instrumental music -in the church, are warmly discussed in Otago. At a certain gathering -of Presbyterian clergymen, one of them urged that organs should be -introduced in order to draw more young people to the church; upon which -an old minister remarked that this was acting on the principle of ‘O -whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad!’ The Scot abroad has a great -love for the institutions of his native country, and endeavours to -transplant as many of them as circumstances will allow. Even the winter -weather of Scotland induces kindly recollections in the breasts of old -settlers. I remember, after a phenomenal fall of snow in Dunedin, the -like of which had not been seen for twenty years, an elder of the kirk -exclaiming, as he rubbed his hands: ‘Sic glorious snaw-ba’ fechts we -had—it mindit me o’ langsyne! Man, I was sorry when the thaw cam’ on.’ -Caledonian Societies flourish all over New Zealand as much as does the -thistle itself. On the Thames gold-field, in the province of Auckland, -there was a corps of Highland Volunteers. Whenever they marched through -the town, they were invariably followed by numbers of Maories, who -tied blankets round their waists, like kilts, and no doubt imagined -themselves sufficiently Celtic. - -The national dishes are much in vogue in New Zealand. An English lady -in Wellington, the capital of that colony, on one occasion detailed -how she had tried to make a haggis in order to please her husband, who -hailed from north of the Tweed. With the help of a cookery-book, the -numerous ingredients were collected and prepared, and at last inserted -in a big pot. Alas! the haggis would not sink, despite renewed efforts. -The lady, in despair, called in an experienced neighbour, who pierced -the haggis with a fork, and successfully ‘scuttled’ it. I am sorry to -add that after all the wife’s trouble and anxiety, the dish proved a -total failure. It is to be hoped that her husband was not so difficult -to please as the well-to-do tradesman in Auckland, who grumbled sorely -as to New Zealand ‘not being fit for a Scotsman to live in.’ ‘How’s -that?’ ‘Weel, the fact is I—I—canna get my parritch made to please -me!’ Talking of porridge, the dish was a favourite in the Christchurch -Hotel, province of Canterbury, where it was cooked by a Frenchman who -now and again actually spoke broken Scotch with a Parisian accent; -while at Wanganui, in the North Island, the ‘parritch’ was prepared by -a Chinese cook. - -To say that Scotsmen abroad are still fond of their national music -is simply to say that they do not cease to be Scotsmen. If anything, -the fondness becomes intensified. I once heard an enthusiast in South -Africa observe: ‘_My Ain Fireside_—_Ye Banks and Braes_—_The Land -o’ the Leal_—eh! a body could be fit to gang to heaven hearing thae -sangs sung!’ At a mission-school connected with the Scotch Church in -Cape Town I once listened to _Weel may the Boatie row_, sung as a -duet by a Dutch girl and a Malay, a result attained by the enthusiasm -of the Scottish schoolmaster. It seemed to me as incongruous as -hearing the Old Hundred in the ‘Scots Kirk’ of Calcutta, unwittingly -accompanied by the tom-toms of a Hindu festival transpiring in the -street. Now that I have taken the reader so far as India, let me note -also that in the Church of Scotland College at Calcutta I saw an -advanced class of Bengali youths reading Scott’s _Lady of the Lake_ -and making marginal notes. Returning to Australia, a pleasant memory -is that of an afternoon spent in a school at Sandhurst, the aforetime -‘Bendigo.’ Here, after the ordinary class-duties had been performed, -the scholars were initiated into the mysteries of Highland reels and -strathspeys, under the tutorship of an Aberdonian dame, the Aberdonian -schoolmaster accompanying on the fiddle. I recollect, too, how an -Irish grocer in Adelaide, South Australia, was moved to stand outside -his door in the bright moonlight evenings and play _Monymusk_ on a -tin whistle. A vision of Canada now rises before me, with its host of -local bards, each with his wallet of poems on his back, trudging from -village to village—the troubadours of the backwoods. Their warblings -were not of the snow-laden forest, the subdued glory of the Indian -summer, the autumn-gilded maple, or the swift, miraculous dawn of -the Columbian spring. Their strains were those of exile; strains of -Scotia, of ‘hame,’ of rippling burnies, of the purple heather, of the -thousand-and-one historic and sympathetic memories of the dear old -land. But hark! what sounds do we hear echoing from a Sabbath school in -Sacramento, California? Scottish tunes, but linked to religious words, -the children singing a hymn of the church militant to the melody of -_Scots wha hae_; while _Ye Banks and Braes_ served as the tender medium -for stanzas of a more devotional character. - -The farmer is a notable figure in one’s Canadian remembrances, the -agricultural class comprising about half the population. In Ontario -you will find many old Scotch settlers, and much could be written upon -their present and past experiences. The times are considerably altered -from the days when the rough pioneering work had to be done. I once met -two aged farmers, one of whom had seen eighty-three winters, who had -emigrated to Canada together about forty years ago, and might have been -taken for typical old settlers. In telling their primitive toils and -privations, their weather-beaten faces were lit up with an animation -that was almost joyous in its character. One related, as if it were -some rare humour, that his first log-hut in the backwoods was at many -places open to the heavens, and that frequently he had to dust the snow -off his blankets before he went to bed. The wintry theme suggests the -story of a Scottish Canadian who, on a voyage to the mother-country, -was one day found sleeping on deck, when the captain roused him with a -natural caution against sunstroke. ‘Sunstroke!’ scornfully replied the -awakened one. ‘It wad tak’ a’ the sun atween here an’ Greenock to thaw -the Canada frost oot o’ my head.’ - -In Salt Lake City there are not a few Scottish Mormons. I chanced to -have a brief conversation there with a middle-aged Scotchwoman, who was -a follower of Brigham Young, and who did not hesitate to magnify the -virtues of polygamy. It turned out, however, that her zeal was largely -of a theoretical nature, as the good lady did not seem to believe -in the system so far as it might entail any discomfort upon herself. -At Omaha I was acquainted with a Highlander who in the first days of -Mormonism became converted to polygamy, but who ultimately abjured the -faith. Many a time and oft, in Celtic daring, had he stood on the banks -of the Missouri River, lifting up his voice in the wilderness like the -Baptist of old, denouncing Mormonism to the bands of converts as they -passed over the stream to the ostensible Land of Canaan. His life was -in daily peril, but he escaped scathless from his self-imposed mission. -In San Francisco I saw Elder Stenhouse, who had been until lately a -chief among the Utah Saints. He and his wife, both Scotch people, had -dedicated themselves honestly to the new faith, but finding out its -hollowness, they shook off the dust of the desert—there is plenty of -it—from their shoes, and took farewell of Salt Lake. - -In travelling about from place to place you make acquaintance with a -most interesting type of character—that of the veteran Scotchman. In -Christchurch, New Zealand, I met a Waterloo veteran, eighty-four years -of age, yet with erect, military carriage. With vivacious garrulity -he told that he was born in Fife; that he had lodged at the house of -Mrs Grant of Laggan; that he knew ‘Jamie Hogg’ and Nathaniel Gow; that -he had been all through the Peninsular War, had fought at Waterloo, -and had been on half-pay since 1817. A companion-figure was that -of the venerable Highlander of King William’s Town, Cape Colony—a -genial-hearted man, of stern brow and with war-worn features—whose -talk was a strange blending of pleasant Scottish reminiscence and -weird stories of Kaffir campaigns in which he had taken part. Again, -while sailing up the Suez Canal, on the voyage home from India, one of -my fellow-passengers was an old Scotsman who had fought at Waterloo, -and was then engaged making a tour of the world. As he said, with -pleasant pathos: ‘I want to see all that’s to be seen before I’m happit -up in the mools’—a phrase that can only be inadequately rendered in -English as ‘lying snug beneath the sod.’ He left the steamer at Port -Saïd, as he was bound on an excursion to the Holy Land, and as the -quarter-master offered to carry his portmanteau, the old fellow elbowed -him aside, exclaiming: ‘Pooh, pooh; I’m a young man yet!’ Last and not -least notable of this class was an old and well-preserved gentleman -I met at Wellington, New Zealand. He was an Edinburgh man, and had -been educated at the university there. He had been acquainted with -friends of Burns, had known the poet’s ‘Chloris’ and ‘Clarinda,’ and -in speaking of the Potterrow always seemed to regard it as still a -fashionable street. To gossip with him was like shaking hands with the -past. - -In going round the world, one is sure to find relatives and souvenirs -of famous men and women. At Hobart-Town, Tasmania, there resided, -when I visited the town, the granddaughter of Neil Gow and daughter -of Nathaniel Gow, the composer of _Caller Herrin’_. In the Waikato -district of the North Island of New Zealand, about a hundred miles -from the city of Auckland, lives, I still trust, old Mrs Nicol, mother -of the late Robert Nicol, the celebrated Perthshire poet. During a -stormy passage in a small steamer on the New Zealand coast, I had some -interesting chats with an Irish gentleman who had met and talked with -Sir Walter Scott in a chapel in Italy, during the closing scenes of -that busy life. I may add also that at Listowel, in Ontario, I was -privileged to meet the brother of Dr Livingstone, and was much struck -with the facial resemblance between him and the great traveller. In the -University of Dunedin the visitor can see, in a gilt frame, a lock of -Burns’s hair, labelled ‘A genuine relic of the Poet, and modicum of a -larger lock owned by Jean Armour.’ A certain country hotel in Tasmania -lives in my memory from its having distributed through its rooms an -extraordinary number of pictures of John Knox, the religious character -of the house being increased by the fact that one of the apartments -was used as the ‘study’ of the Presbyterian clergyman of the village. -The name of John Knox, by association, recalls to my mind the incident -of the eccentric Scot of Kaffraria, South Africa, who had a portrait -of Mary Queen of Scots hung in his bedroom, and who, every morning on -rising, stretched his hands towards it, crying: ‘O my poor murdered -queen!’ - -The visitor fresh from home is certain of meeting with a kind welcome -from his countrymen abroad. The welcome need not be on personal -grounds. An Edinburgh man in Canada once shook my hand warmly, saying: -‘I dinna ken ye; I never met ye before; but I just want to see a man -that’s seen Arthur Seat since I saw it.’ The love of home sometimes -reaches an intense pitch, as in the case of the Scotsman at Fort -Beaufort, in Cape Colony, who ejaculated: ‘I’d rather gang hame and -be hanged, than dee here a natural death!’ Again, an old man in New -Zealand remarked: ‘I doot I’ll no get hame to Scotland again; but if -onybody said: “Ye shall not go,” I’d be off the morn’s mornin’!’ With -which forcible yet touching deliverance let these glimpses conclude. - -I am afraid that during our brief bird’s-eye view of colonial life, -the reader has been dragged hither and thither in a somewhat erratic -course. The irregularity, however, has been more apparent than real. -Whether amid Canadian snows, New Zealand mountains, Australian bush, -or South African _veldt_, you meet with the same shrewd, persevering -Scotsman, steadily moving in his colonial orbit, and moving none the -less regularly because of the tender gravitation of his heart towards -the central sphere of patriotic affection—dear though distant Scotland. - - - - -IS SMOKING INJURIOUS TO HEALTH? - - -Although the above important question is so frequently asked, more -especially of medical men, yet their replies are as a general rule -either of a vague or dogmatic nature that is anything but satisfactory. -There has been unlimited discussion respecting the injurious effects of -smoking, ever since the first introduction of tobacco, and a great deal -of nonsense has unfortunately been urged by enthusiasts on both sides. -Some have praised tobacco far beyond its merits; while others have so -enlarged upon its injurious and poisonous qualities as to make one -wonder that anybody who smokes should be left alive at all. Hitherto, -however, no satisfactory solution of the problem appears to have been -arrived at. Our object in this paper will be to deal as concisely as -possible with the subject upon its merits. - -In the first place, we may inform our readers that smoking is and is -not injurious. This apparently contradictory assertion admits, however, -of the following explanation. In New England, it has been with truth -alleged that the thirst induced by smoking is an active incentive to -alcoholic excess and its attendant evils. Now, on the other hand, -amongst Asiatic nations the reverse holds good. Mr Lane—translator of -the _Arabian Nights_—when in the East, noticed that smoking appeared -to possess a soothing effect, attended with slight exhilaration, and -that it supplied the place of alcoholic beverages. Mr Layard, whose -knowledge of eastern nations is most extensive, was also of the same -opinion. Mr Crawford, again, an authority of high repute as regards -Asiatic habits, believes the use of tobacco has contributed to the -sobriety both of Asiatic and European nations. Here we have two -entirely contradictory results, as, in North America smoking produces -dissipation; whilst in the East it not only restrains, but takes its -place. It is therefore to climate, temperament, and bodily constitution -acting and reacting upon each other, that we may trace so opposite an -effect. - -The chemical constituents of tobacco are three, the due consideration -of which is highly important. They are: (1) A volatile oil; (2) a -volatile alkali; (3) an empyreumatic oil. The volatile oil, although -in minute quantities, has a most powerful action on the physical -system, even in the smallest dose; and when taken internally, gives -rise to nausea with giddiness. The volatile alkali is _nicotine_, -possessing narcotic and very poisonous qualities; so much so indeed, -that a single drop of it is sufficient to kill a dog. The proportion -of this substance in the dry tobacco-leaf varies from two to eight per -cent., according to Professor Johnston, who states that ‘in smoking -a quarter of an ounce of tobacco, two grains or more of one of the -most subtle poisons known may be drawn into the smoker’s mouth;’ the -reason why he is not poisoned being because this deadly juice is not -concentrated. Empyreumatic oil (from Gr. _empyreuo_, I kindle), the -third active ingredient of tobacco, is so called to express the burned -smell and acrid taste which result from the combustion of the tobacco -during smoking. This oil closely resembles in its action that which is -produced from poisonous foxglove leaf (_Digitalis purpurea_). A drop -of empyreumatic oil when applied to the tongue of a cat has produced -convulsions and death in a few minutes. Reptiles are destroyed by it -as through an electric shock. It must be borne in mind that these -three chemical ingredients are _united_ when smoking, and produce to a -greater or less degree their respective effects. A cigar when smoked -to the _end_ effectually discharges into the smoker’s mouth everything -produced by its combustion. When saliva is retained in the mouth, the -effects of tobacco in one sense become more markedly developed on the -nervous system. On the other hand, when constant expectoration takes -place, digestion becomes impaired, from the diminution of saliva, -which plays an important part in this function. We have heard medical -men, who were themselves smokers, aver that the former is the least -of the two evils; which we hope is the case, as the habit of constant -expectoration in which many smokers indulge, is certainly one of the -most unpleasant concomitants of the pipe or cigar. - -In a purely physiological sense, smoking acts as follows: (1) The -heart’s action becomes lowered; (2) the elimination of carbonic acid is -diminished, thus interfering with the respiratory power; (3) the waste -of the body is checked, and digestion to a certain extent impeded. -Excessive smoking disorders digestion, and, where the heart is weak, -often induces disease of that organ. It is by no means uncommon to find -habitual smokers troubled with dyspepsia. Dr Leared considers excessive -smoking decidedly productive of indigestion. Dr Pereira, who was a high -authority on such matters, when alluding to habitual smokers in his -celebrated _Materia Medica_, observes: ‘The practice, when moderately -indulged in, provokes thirst, increases the secretion of saliva, and -produces that remarkably soothing and tranquillising effect upon the -mind which has caused it to be so much admired and adopted by all -classes of society, and by all nations civilised and barbarous.’ Later -on, the same eminent authority states that ‘when indulged in to excess, -and especially by those unaccustomed to its use, smoking causes nausea, -trembling, and in some cases paralysis and death.’ Instances are -recorded of persons killing themselves by smoking seventeen or eighteen -pipes at a sitting! - -In his luminous _Treatise on Poisons_, Dr Christison states that -‘no well-ascertained ill effects have been shown to result from the -habitual practice of smoking.’ On the other hand, Dr Prout, a late -distinguished physician and chemist, was of a different opinion. He -observes: ‘Tobacco disorders the assimilating functions in general, but -particularly, I believe, the assimilation of saccharine principle. It -is the weak and those predisposed to disease who fall victims to its -poisonous operation, whilst the strong and healthy suffer comparatively -little therefrom.’ So even this learned physician’s opinion is to a -certain extent thus modified. - -The researches of Dr Richardson, F.R.S., are of immense value with -regard to the action of tobacco upon the health. He is of opinion that -there are no grounds for believing that smoking—of course, we infer, -when indulged in with moderation—can produce organic change. Functional -disturbances of the heart, brain, and vision, he tells us, may be -traced to its excessive use. It is universally, however, admitted that -tobacco, like alcohol—in minute doses—arrests oxidation of living -tissues, thus checking their disintegration. Dr Richardson, for this -reason, justly considers smoking highly injurious to the young, causing -impairment of growth. - -In the course of an important discussion which took place between Sir -Ranald Martin, Mr Solly, Dr Ranking, and other scientific physicians, -the following important results were arrived at respecting smoking: (1) -That the habit is only prejudicial when carried to excess; (2) that -tobacco is innocuous as compared with alcohol, and in no case worse -than tea, and by the side of high living, contrasts most favourably. -Whether smoking is or is not injurious to health depends principally -upon the following conditions: (1) The kind of tobacco smoked; (2) the -manner in which it is consumed; (3) the amount of tobacco smoked; and -lastly, when it is indulged in. The great object is to obtain a tobacco -which possesses the smallest percentage of nicotine. It was formerly -believed that the best varieties of Havana and Turkish tobacco were the -most innocuous. According, however, to the recent exhaustive researches -of Dr George Harley, F.R.S., it appears that the more delicate the -aroma of tobacco, the more poisonous it becomes. Dr Harley is also -of opinion that ‘Caporal’ tobacco contains _least nicotine_, and is -consequently to be preferred by those desirous of health. Pipes made -of clay, and meerschaums—not foul—are, Dr Richardson considers, in a -hygienic point of view, superior to cigars and cigarettes. Neither -cigars nor cigarettes should ever be smoked near the end, as the -nicotine then is discharged into the mouth in larger proportions. M. -Melsens, a very distinguished chemist, is of opinion that a plug of -cotton-wool saturated with a solution of strong citric or tannic acid -should be inserted in the stem of the pipe, cigar, or cigarette holder. -By this precaution, the smoke is effectually filtered, ere reaching the -mouth, as the nicotine would then be seized by and combined with the -acid. Those who object to this plan on account of its trouble, might -with advantage place a small piece of plain cotton-wool in the stem -of their pipe as a filtering agent. This should on each occasion be -removed and replaced by a fresh one. A more convenient, and probably -not less effective plug, is a bit of paper crumpled into a soft ball -and placed in the bottom of the pipe. It acts as an absorbent of the -objectionable juices which might otherwise find their way into the -mouth, and can be changed, if the smoker chooses, every time he fills -his pipe. - -From a review of the scientific testimony and physiological facts -bearing upon this subject, we may safely arrive at the following -conclusions: (1) That smoking in excess is decidedly an injurious -habit, frequently causing dyspepsia, and functional diseases of the -heart, brain, and nervous system. (2) That smoking, even when in -moderation, is pernicious in early life, also to certain constitutions, -and in particular conditions of the body. (3) That in adult life and in -ordinary health, no well-ascertained ill effects have been demonstrated -as owing their causation to _moderate_ smoking. (4) That the _moderate_ -use of tobacco is not only in many cases a harmless luxury, but -occasionally, from its soothing and tranquillising influence, a useful -adjunct. Smoking, even in the strictest moderation, with some persons -of peculiar idiosyncrasies, acts as a poison, and should therefore be -avoided, when feelings of discomfort are entailed by its use. - -It is impossible to lay down any rule as to the amount of tobacco which -may be consumed without a deleterious effect upon the health. What -would be moderation to one is often excess to another, according to -temperament, habit, and individual peculiarities. Each person ought to -be able to judge for himself as to what is moderation. The best time -for smoking is undoubtedly after a meal; and the most injurious, on an -empty stomach. - -In drawing this paper to a close, we cannot do better than by appending -the following extract, taken from Mr Dawson’s valuable little work on -longevity. On page sixty-nine of _How to Prolong Life_, when speaking -of smoking, Mr Dawson observes: ‘All things taken into account, it -is evident that tobacco in excess is certainly prejudicial to good -health; in moderation, however, it may be indulged in with comparative -impunity; but under any circumstances, it should be known that a man -in health is much better without it. How much more so in the case of -those who are weakly! Lastly, I desire to impress upon all smokers that -_moderation_ in this habit is of no small moment, the ill effects being -proportioned to indulgence.’ - - - - -TO A CHILD. - - - Kathleen of the glad blue eyes, - Elf-locks dark and curling— - Kathleen of the laughing voice, - Like a wild stream whirling: - When I gaze into those eyes, - Deep I read the story - Of a long-lost Paradise - And the young world’s glory. - - Many a tale of fairyland - Have we dreamed together, - By the hearth in shadow-time, - Out on wind-swept heather. - Tired, I told of prince and fay, - Court and castle hoary; - Give me, sweet, my turn to-day— - I, too, crave a story. - - Blue eyes telling tales to mine - Darkly raise their fringes: - Earth had doors to heaven once, - Wide on golden hinges. - From beyond, the timeless light - Banished time and sorrow; - Child-world had no yesterday, - Heaven was to-morrow. - - Nought was there of languid bloom, - Frail and fevered splendour, - Kisses like the daisies thronged, - Love made greensward tender, - Truth was sunny as the sky, - Branching care spread o’er us, - All that warbled ecstasy - Made the garden’s chorus. - - O thou Eden of the past— - If I could but find thee, - All I have, for thee, I’d cast, - Worthless, vain, behind me— - When the heaven-gates stood wide, - And all the air was ringing - With mingled voices of our home - And sound of angels singing! - - Am I sad? How startled shine - Those blue eyes in wonder! - Child, whose heart beats close to mine, - Far are we asunder. - Yet, if I would follow thee, - Oft I marvel whether - Thou couldst lead me in, to see - Eden-land together. - - M. E. ATTERIDGE. - - * * * * * - -Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, -and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. - - * * * * * - -_All Rights Reserved._ - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 5, VOL. I, FEBRUARY 2, -1884 *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |