diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/66075-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66075-0.txt | 7150 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7150 deletions
diff --git a/old/66075-0.txt b/old/66075-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6ca0308..0000000 --- a/old/66075-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7150 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cornhill Magazine, Vol. I, January -1860, 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: The Cornhill Magazine, Vol. I, January 1860 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: August 17, 2021 [eBook #66075] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03, Ian Crann and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from - images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CORNHILL MAGAZINE, VOL. -I, JANUARY 1860 *** - - - - - - THE - CORNHILL MAGAZINE. - - JANUARY, 1860. - - - - - Framley Parsonage. 1 - The Chinese and the “Outer Barbarians.” 26 - Lovel the Widower. 44 - Studies in Animal Life. 61 - Father Prout’s Inaugurative Ode 75 - Our Volunteers. 77 - A Man of Letters of the Last Generation. 85 - The Search for Sir John Franklin. 96 - The First Morning of 1860. 122 - Roundabout Papers.--No. I. 124 - - - - - Framley Parsonage. - - - CHAPTER I. - - “OMNES OMNIA BONA DICERE.” - -When young Mark Robarts was leaving college, his father might well -declare that all men began to say all good things to him, and to -extol his fortune in that he had a son blessed with so excellent a -disposition. - -This father was a physician living at Exeter. He was a gentleman -possessed of no private means, but enjoying a lucrative practice, -which had enabled him to maintain and educate a family with all the -advantages which money can give in this country. Mark was his eldest -son and second child; and the first page or two of this narrative must -be consumed in giving a catalogue of the good things which chance and -conduct together had heaped upon this young man’s head. - -His first step forward in life had arisen from his having been sent, -while still very young, as a private pupil to the house of a clergyman, -who was an old friend and intimate friend of his father’s. This -clergyman had one other, and only one other, pupil--the young Lord -Lufton, and, between the two boys, there had sprung up a close alliance. - -While they were both so placed, Lady Lufton had visited her son, and -then invited young Robarts to pass his next holidays at Framley Court. -This visit was made; and it ended in Mark going back to Exeter with a -letter full of praise from the widowed peeress. She had been delighted, -she said, in having such a companion for her son, and expressed a -hope that the boys might remain together during the course of their -education. Dr. Robarts was a man who thought much of the breath of -peers and peeresses, and was by no means inclined to throw away any -advantage which might arise to his child from such a friendship. When, -therefore, the young lord was sent to Harrow, Mark Robarts went there -also. - -That the lord and his friend often quarrelled, and occasionally -fought,--the fact even that for one period of three months they never -spoke to each other--by no means interfered with the doctor’s hopes. -Mark again and again stayed a fortnight at Framley Court, and Lady -Lufton always wrote about him in the highest terms. - -And then the lads went together to Oxford, and here Mark’s good fortune -followed him, consisting rather in the highly respectable manner in -which he lived, than in any wonderful career of collegiate success. His -family was proud of him, and the doctor was always ready to talk of him -to his patients; not because he was a prizeman, and had gotten medals -and scholarships, but on account of the excellence of his general -conduct. He lived with the best set--he incurred no debts--he was fond -of society, but able to avoid low society--liked his glass of wine, but -was never known to be drunk; and, above all things, was one of the most -popular men in the university. - -Then came the question of a profession for this young Hyperion, and on -this subject, Dr. Robarts was invited himself to go over to Framley -Court to discuss the matter with Lady Lufton. Dr. Robarts returned with -a very strong conception that the Church was the profession best suited -to his son. - -Lady Lufton had not sent for Dr. Robarts all the way from Exeter for -nothing. The living of Framley was in the gift of the Lufton family, -and the next presentation would be in Lady Lufton’s hands, if it should -fall vacant before the young lord was twenty-five years of age, and in -the young lord’s hands if it should fall afterwards. But the mother and -the heir consented to give a joint promise to Dr. Robarts. Now, as the -present incumbent was over seventy, and as the living was worth 900_l_. -a year, there could be no doubt as to the eligibility of the clerical -profession. - -And I must further say, that the dowager and the doctor were justified -in their choice by the life and principles of the young man--as far -as any father can be justified in choosing such a profession for his -son, and as far as any lay impropriator can be justified in making -such a promise. Had Lady Lufton had a second son, that second son -would probably have had the living, and no one would have thought it -wrong;--certainly not if that second son had been such a one as Mark -Robarts. - -Lady Lufton herself was a woman who thought much on religious matters, -and would by no means have been disposed to place any one in a living, -merely because such a one had been her son’s friend. Her tendencies -were High Church, and she was enabled to perceive that those of young -Mark Robarts ran in the same direction. She was very desirous that her -son should make an associate of his clergyman, and by this step she -would insure, at any rate, that. She was anxious that the parish vicar -should be one with whom she could herself fully co-operate, and was -perhaps unconsciously wishful that he might in some measure be subject -to her influence. Should she appoint an older man, this might probably -not be the case to the same extent; and should her son have the gift, -it might probably not be the case at all. - -And therefore it was resolved that the living should be given to young -Robarts. - -He took his degree--not with any brilliancy, but quite in the manner -that his father desired; he then travelled for eight or ten months with -Lord Lufton and a college don, and almost immediately after his return -home was ordained. - -The living of Framley is in the diocese of Barchester; and, seeing -what were Mark’s hopes with reference to that diocese, it was by no -means difficult to get him a curacy within it. But this curacy he was -not allowed long to fill. He had not been in it above a twelvemonth, -when poor old Dr. Stopford, the then vicar of Framley, was gathered -to his fathers, and the full fruition of his rich hopes fell upon his -shoulders. - -But even yet more must be told of his good fortune before we can -come to the actual incidents of our story. Lady Lufton, who, as I -have said, thought much of clerical matters, did not carry her High -Church principles so far as to advocate celibacy for the clergy. On -the contrary, she had an idea that a man could not be a good parish -parson without a wife. So, having given to her favourite a position in -the world, and an income sufficient for a gentleman’s wants, she set -herself to work to find him a partner in those blessings. - -And here also, as in other matters, he fell in with the views of his -patroness--not, however, that they were declared to him in that marked -manner in which the affair of the living had been broached. Lady Lufton -was much too highly gifted with woman’s craft for that. She never told -the young vicar that Miss Monsell accompanied her ladyship’s married -daughter to Framley Court expressly that he, Mark, might fall in love -with her; but such was in truth the case. - -Lady Lufton had but two children. The eldest, a daughter, had been -married some four or five years to Sir George Meredith, and this -Miss Monsell was a dear friend of hers. And now looms before me the -novelist’s great difficulty. Miss Monsell,--or, rather, Mrs. Mark -Robarts,--must be described. As Miss Monsell, our tale will have to -take no prolonged note of her. And yet we will call her Fanny Monsell, -when we declare that she was one of the pleasantest companions that -could be brought near to a man, as the future partner of his home, and -owner of his heart. And if high principles without asperity, female -gentleness without weakness, a love of laughter without malice, and a -true loving heart, can qualify a woman to be a parson’s wife, then was -Fanny Monsell qualified to fill that station. - -In person she was somewhat larger than common. Her face would have been -beautiful but that her mouth was large. Her hair, which was copious, -was of a bright brown; her eyes also were brown, and, being so, were -the distinctive feature of her face, for brown eyes are not common. -They were liquid, large, and full either of tenderness or of mirth. -Mark Robarts still had his accustomed luck, when such a girl as this -was brought to Framley for his wooing. - -And he did woo her--and won her. For Mark himself was a handsome -fellow. At this time the vicar was about twenty-five years of age, and -the future Mrs. Robarts was two or three years younger. Nor did she -come quite empty-handed to the vicarage. It cannot be said that Fanny -Monsell was an heiress, but she had been left with a provision of some -few thousand pounds. This was so settled, that the interest of his -wife’s money paid the heavy insurance on his life which young Robarts -effected, and there was left to him, over and above, sufficient to -furnish his parsonage in the very best style of clerical comfort,--and -to start him on the road of life rejoicing. - -So much did Lady Lufton do for her _protégé_, and it may well be -imagined that the Devonshire physician, sitting meditative over his -parlour fire, looking back, as men will look back on the upshot of -their life, was well contented with that upshot, as regarded his eldest -offshoot, the Rev. Mark Robarts, the vicar of Framley. - -But little has as yet been said, personally, as to our hero himself, -and perhaps it may not be necessary to say much. Let us hope that by -degrees he may come forth upon the canvas, showing to the beholder -the nature of the man inwardly and outwardly. Here it may suffice to -say that he was no born heaven’s cherub, neither was he a born fallen -devil’s spirit. Such as his training made him, such he was. He had -large capabilities for good--and aptitudes also for evil, quite enough: -quite enough to make it needful that he should repel temptation as -temptation only can be repelled. Much had been done to spoil him, but -in the ordinary acceptation of the word he was not spoiled. He had too -much tact, too much common sense, to believe himself to be the paragon -which his mother thought him. Self-conceit was not, perhaps, his -greatest danger. Had he possessed more of it, he might have been a less -agreeable man, but his course before him might on that account have -been the safer. - -In person he was manly, tall, and fair-haired, with a square forehead, -denoting intelligence rather than thought, with clear white hands, -filbert nails, and a power of dressing himself in such a manner that -no one should ever observe of him that his clothes were either good or -bad, shabby or smart. - -Such was Mark Robarts when at the age of twenty-five, or a little -more, he married Fanny Monsell. The marriage was celebrated in his own -church, for Miss Monsell had no home of her own, and had been staying -for the last three months at Framley Court. She was given away by Sir -George Meredith, and Lady Lufton herself saw that the wedding was what -it should be, with almost as much care as she had bestowed on that of -her own daughter. The deed of marrying, the absolute tying of the knot, -was performed by the Very Reverend the Dean of Barchester, an esteemed -friend of Lady Lufton’s. And Mrs. Arabin, the Dean’s wife, was of the -party, though the distance from Barchester to Framley is long, and the -roads deep, and no railway lends its assistance. And Lord Lufton was -there of course; and people protested that he would surely fall in love -with one of the four beautiful bridesmaids, of whom Blanche Robarts, -the vicar’s second sister, was by common acknowledgment by far the most -beautiful. - -And there was there another and a younger sister of Mark’s--who did -not officiate at the ceremony, though she was present--and of whom no -prediction was made, seeing that she was then only sixteen, but of whom -mention is made here, as it will come to pass that my readers will know -her hereafter. Her name was Lucy Robarts. - -And then the vicar and his wife went off on their wedding tour, the old -curate taking care of the Framley souls the while. - -And in due time they returned; and after a further interval, in due -course, a child was born to them; and then another; and after that came -the period at which we will begin our story. But before doing so, may -not assert that all men were right in saying all manner of good things -to the Devonshire physician, and in praising his luck in having such a -son? - -“You were up at the house to-day, I suppose?” said Mark to his wife, as -he sat stretching himself in an easy chair in the drawing-room, before -the fire, previously to his dressing for dinner. It was a November -evening, and he had been out all day, and on such occasions the -aptitude for delay in dressing is very powerful. A strong-minded man -goes direct from the hall-door to his chamber without encountering the -temptation of the drawing-room fire. - -“No; but Lady Lufton was down here.” - -“Full of arguments in favour of Sarah Thompson?” - -“Exactly so, Mark.” - -“And what did you say about Sarah Thompson?” - -“Very little as coming from myself; but I did hint that you thought, -or that I thought that you thought, that one of the regular trained -schoolmistresses would be better.” - -“But her ladyship did not agree?” - -“Well, I won’t exactly say that;--though I think that perhaps she did -not.” - -“I am sure she did not. When she has a point to carry, she is very fond -of carrying it.” - -“But then, Mark, her points are generally so good.” - -“But, you see, in this affair of the school she is thinking more of her -_protégée_ than she does of the children.” - -“Tell her that, and I am sure she will give way.” - -And then again they were both silent. And the vicar having thoroughly -warmed himself, as far as this might be done by facing the fire, turned -round and began the operation _à tergo_. - -“Come, Mark, it is twenty minutes past six. Will you go and dress?” - -“I’ll tell you what, Fanny: she must have her way about Sarah Thompson. -You can see her to-morrow and tell her so.” - -“I am sure, Mark, I would not give way, if I thought it wrong. Nor -would she expect it.” - -“If I persist this time, I shall certainly have to yield the next; and -then the next may probably be more important.” - -“But if it’s wrong, Mark?” - -“I didn’t say it was wrong. Besides, if it is wrong, wrong in some -infinitesimal degree, one must put up with it. Sarah Thompson is very -respectable; the only question is whether she can teach.” - -The young wife, though she did not say so, had some idea that her -husband was in error. It is true that one must put up with wrong, with -a great deal of wrong. But no one need put up with wrong that he can -remedy. Why should he, the vicar, consent to receive an incompetent -teacher for the parish children, when he was able to procure one -that was competent? In such a case,--so thought Mrs. Robarts to -herself,--she would have fought the matter out with Lady Lufton. - -On the next morning, however, she did as she was bid, and signified to -the dowager that all objection to Sarah Thompson would be withdrawn. - -“Ah! I was sure he would agree with me,” said her ladyship, “when he -learned what sort of person she is. I know I had only to explain;”--and -then she plumed her feathers, and was very gracious; for, to tell the -truth, Lady Lufton did not like to be opposed in things which concerned -the parish nearly. - -“And, Fanny,” said Lady Lufton, in her kindest manner, “you are not -going anywhere on Saturday, are you?” - -“No, I think not.” - -“Then you must come to us. Justinia is to be here, you know”--Lady -Meredith was named Justinia--“and you and Mr. Robarts had better stay -with us till Monday. He can have the little book-room all to himself on -Sunday. The Merediths go on Monday; and Justinia won’t be happy if you -are not with her.” - -It would be unjust to say that Lady Lufton had determined not to invite -the Robarts’s if she were not allowed to have her own way about Sarah -Thompson. But such would have been the result. As it was, however, she -was all kindness; and when Mrs. Robarts made some little excuse, saying -that she was afraid she must return home in the evening, because of the -children, Lady Lufton declared that there was room enough at Framley -Court for baby and nurse, and so settled the matter in her own way, -with a couple of nods and three taps of her umbrella. - -This was on a Tuesday morning, and on the same evening, before -dinner, the vicar again seated himself in the same chair before the -drawing-room fire, as soon as he had seen his horse led into the stable. - -“Mark,” said his wife, “the Merediths are to be at Framley on Saturday -and Sunday; and I have promised that we will go up and stay over till -Monday.” - -“You don’t mean it! Goodness gracious, how provoking!” - -“Why? I thought you wouldn’t mind it. And Justinia would think it -unkind if I were not there.” - -“You can go, my dear, and of course will go. But as for me, it is -impossible.” - -“But why, love?” - -“Why? Just now, at the school-house, I answered a letter that was -brought to me from Chaldicotes. Sowerby insists on my going over there -for a week or so; and I have said that I would.” - -“Go to Chaldicotes for a week, Mark?” - -“I believe I have even consented to ten days.” - -“And be away two Sundays?” - -“No, Fanny, only one. Don’t be so censorious.” - -“Don’t call me censorious, Mark; you know I am not so. But I am so -sorry. It is just what Lady Lufton won’t like. Besides, you were away -in Scotland two Sundays last month.” - -“In September, Fanny. And that is being censorious.” - -“Oh, but, Mark, dear Mark! don’t say so. You know I don’t mean it. -But Lady Lufton does not like those Chaldicotes people. You know Lord -Lufton was with you the last time you were there; and how annoyed she -was!” - -“Lord Lufton won’t be with me now, for he is still in Scotland. And -the reason why I am going is this: Harold Smith and his wife will be -there, and I am very anxious to know more of them. I have no doubt that -Harold Smith will be in the government some day, and I cannot afford to -neglect such a man’s acquaintance.” - -“But, Mark, what do you want of any government?” - -“Well, Fanny, of course I am bound to say that I want nothing; neither -in one sense do I; but nevertheless, I shall go and meet the Harold -Smiths.” - -“Could you not be back before Sunday?” - -“I have promised to preach at Chaldicotes. Harold Smith is going to -lecture at Barchester, about the Australasian archipelago, and I am to -preach a charity sermon on the same subject. They want to send out more -missionaries.” - -“A charity sermon at Chaldicotes!” - -“And why not? The house will be quite full, you know; and I dare say -the Arabins will be there.” - -“I think not; Mrs. Arabin may get on with Mrs. Harold Smith, though -I doubt that; but I’m sure she’s not fond of Mrs. Smith’s brother. I -don’t think she would stay at Chaldicotes.” - -“And the bishop will probably be there for a day or two.” - -“That is much more likely, Mark. If the pleasure of meeting Mrs. -Proudie is taking you to Chaldicotes, I have not a word more to say.” - -“I am not a bit more fond of Mrs. Proudie, than you are, Fanny,” said -the vicar, with something like vexation in the tone of his voice, -for he thought that his wife was hard upon him. “But it is generally -thought that a parish clergyman does well to meet his bishop now and -then. And as I was invited there, especially to preach while all these -people are staying at the place, I could not well refuse.” And then he -got up, and taking his candlestick, escaped to his dressing-room. - -“But what am I to say to Lady Lufton?” his wife said to him, in the -course of the evening. - -“Just write her a note, and tell her that you find I had promised to -preach at Chaldicotes next Sunday. You’ll go, of course?” - -“Yes: but I know she’ll be annoyed. You were away the last time she had -people there.” - -“It can’t be helped. She must put it down against Sarah Thompson. She -ought not to expect to win always.” - -“I should not have minded it, if she had lost, as you call it, about -Sarah Thompson. That was a case in which you ought to have had your own -way.” - -“And this other is a case in which I shall have it. It’s a pity that -there should be such a difference; isn’t it?” - -Then the wife perceived that, vexed as she was, it would be better that -she should say nothing further; and before she went to bed, she wrote -the note to Lady Lufton, as her husband recommended. - - - CHAPTER II. - - THE FRAMLEY SET, AND THE CHALDICOTES SET. - -It will be necessary that I should say a word or two of some of the -people named in the few preceding pages, and also of the localities in -which they lived. - -Of Lady Lufton herself enough, perhaps, has been written to introduce -her to my readers. The Framley property belonged to her son; but -as Lufton Park--an ancient ramshackle place in another county--had -heretofore been the family residence of the Lufton family, Framley -Court had been apportioned to her for her residence for life. Lord -Lufton himself was still unmarried; and as he had no establishment at -Lufton Park--which indeed had not been inhabited since his grandfather -died--he lived with his mother when it suited him to live anywhere -in that neighbourhood. The widow would fain have seen more of him -than he allowed her to do. He had a shooting-lodge in Scotland, and -apartments in London, and a string of horses in Leicestershire--much to -the disgust of the county gentry around him, who held that their own -hunting was as good as any that England could afford. His lordship, -however, paid his subscription to the East Barsetshire pack, and then -thought himself at liberty to follow his own pleasure as to his own -amusement. - -Framley itself was a pleasant country place, having about it nothing -of seignorial dignity or grandeur, but possessing everything necessary -for the comfort of country life. The house was a low building of two -stories, built at different periods, and devoid of all pretensions to -any style of architecture; but the rooms, though not lofty, were warm -and comfortable, and the gardens were trim and neat beyond all others -in the county. Indeed, it was for its gardens only that Framley Court -was celebrated. - -Village there was none, properly speaking. The high road went winding -about through the Framley paddocks, shrubberies, and wood-skirted home -fields, for a mile and a half, not two hundred yards of which ran in -a straight line; and there was a cross-road which passed down through -the domain, whereby there came to be a locality called Framley Cross. -Here stood the “Lufton Arms,” and here, at Framley Cross, the hounds -occasionally would meet; for the Framley woods were drawn in spite of -the young lord’s truant disposition; and then, at the Cross also, lived -the shoemaker, who kept the post-office. - -Framley church was distant from this just a quarter of a mile, and -stood immediately opposite to the chief entrance to Framley Court. It -was but a mean, ugly building, having been erected about a hundred -years since, when all churches then built were made to be mean and -ugly; nor was it large enough for the congregation, some of whom -were thus driven to the dissenting chapels, the Sions and Ebenezers, -which had got themselves established on each side of the parish, in -putting down which Lady Lufton thought that her pet parson was hardly -as energetic as he might be. It was, therefore, a matter near to Lady -Lufton’s heart to see a new church built, and she was urgent in her -eloquence, both with her son and with the vicar, to have this good work -commenced. - -Beyond the church, but close to it, were the boys’ school and girls’ -school, two distinct buildings, which owed their erection to Lady -Lufton’s energy; then came a neat little grocer’s shop, the neat grocer -being the clerk and sexton, and the neat grocer’s wife, the pew-opener -in the church. Podgens was their name, and they were great favourites -with her ladyship, both having been servants up at the house. - -And here the road took a sudden turn to the left, turning, as it were, -away from Framley Court; and just beyond the turn was the vicarage, -so that there was a little garden path running from the back of the -vicarage grounds into the churchyard, cutting the Podgens’s off into -an isolated corner of their own;--from whence, to tell the truth, the -vicar would have been glad to banish them and their cabbages, could he -have had the power to do so. For has not the small vineyard of Naboth -been always an eyesore to neighbouring potentates? - -The potentate in this case had as little excuse as Ahab, for nothing -in the parsonage way could be more perfect than his parsonage. It -had all the details requisite for the house of a moderate gentleman -with moderate means, and none of those expensive superfluities which -immoderate gentlemen demand, or which themselves demand--immoderate -means. And then the gardens and paddocks were exactly suited to it; -and everything was in good order;--not exactly new, so as to be raw -and uncovered, and redolent of workmen; but just at that era of their -existence in which newness gives way to comfortable homeliness. - -Other village at Framley there was none. At the back of the Court, up -one of those cross-roads, there was another small shop or two, and -there was a very neat cottage residence, in which lived the widow of -a former curate, another _protégé_ of Lady Lufton’s; and there was a -big, staring brick house, in which the present curate lived; but this -was a full mile distant from the church, and farther from Framley -Court, standing on that cross-road which runs from Framley Cross in a -direction away from the mansion. This gentleman, the Rev. Evan Jones, -might, from his age, have been the vicar’s father; but he had been for -many years curate of Framley; and though he was personally disliked by -Lady Lufton, as being low church in his principles, and unsightly in -his appearance, nevertheless, she would not urge his removal. He had -two or three pupils in that large brick house, and if turned out from -these and from his curacy, might find it difficult to establish himself -elsewhere. On this account, mercy was extended to the Rev. E. Jones, -and, in spite of his red face and awkward big feet, he was invited to -dine at Framley Court, with his plain daughter, once in every three -months. - -Over and above these, there was hardly a house in the parish of -Framley, outside the bounds of Framley Court, except those of farmers -and farm labourers; and yet the parish was of large extent. - -Framley is in the eastern division of the county of Barsetshire, which, -as all the world knows, is, politically speaking, as true blue a county -as any in England. There have been backslidings even here, it is true; -but then, in what county have there not been such backslidings? Where, -in these pinchbeck days, can we hope to find the old agricultural -virtue in all its purity? But, among those backsliders, I regret to -say, that men now reckon Lord Lufton. Not that he is a violent Whig, or -perhaps that he is a Whig at all. But he jeers and sneers at the old -county doings; declares, when solicited on the subject, that, as far -as he is concerned, Mr. Bright may sit for the county, if he pleases; -and alleges, that being unfortunately a peer, he has no right even to -interest himself in the question. All this is deeply regretted, for, in -the old days, there was no portion of the county more decidedly true -blue than that Framley district; and, indeed, up to the present day, -the dowager is able to give an occasional helping hand. - -Chaldicotes is the seat of Nathaniel Sowerby, Esq., who, at the moment -supposed to be now present, is one of the members for the Western -Division of Barsetshire. But this Western Division can boast none of -the fine political attributes which grace its twin brother. It is -decidedly Whig, and is almost governed in its politics by one or two -great Whig families. - -It has been said that Mark Robarts was about to pay a visit to -Chaldicotes, and it has been hinted that his wife would have been as -well pleased had this not been the case. Such was certainly the fact; -for she, dear, prudent, excellent wife as she was, knew that Mr. -Sowerby was not the most eligible friend in the world for a young -clergyman, and knew, also, that there was but one other house in the -whole county, the name of which was so distasteful to Lady Lufton. The -reasons for this were, I may say, manifold. In the first place, Mr. -Sowerby was a Whig, and was seated in Parliament mainly by the interest -of that great Whig autocrat the Duke of Omnium, whose residence was -more dangerous even than that of Mr. Sowerby, and whom Lady Lufton -regarded as an impersonation of Lucifer upon earth. Mr. Sowerby, too, -was unmarried--as indeed, also, was Lord Lufton, much to his mother’s -grief. Mr. Sowerby, it is true, was fifty, whereas the young lord was -as yet only twenty-six, but, nevertheless, her ladyship was becoming -anxious on the subject. In her mind, every man was bound to marry as -soon as he could maintain a wife; and she held an idea--a quite private -tenet, of which she was herself but imperfectly conscious--that men -in general were inclined to neglect this duty for their own selfish -gratifications, that the wicked ones encouraged the more innocent in -this neglect, and that many would not marry at all, were not an unseen -coercion exercised against them by the other sex. The Duke of Omnium -was the very head of all such sinners, and Lady Lufton greatly feared -that her son might be made subject to the baneful Omnium influence, by -means of Mr. Sowerby and Chaldicotes. - -And then Mr. Sowerby was known to be a very poor man, with a very large -estate. He had wasted, men said, much on electioneering, and more in -gambling. A considerable portion of his property had already gone into -the hands of the Duke, who, as a rule, bought up everything around him -that was to be purchased. Indeed it was said of him by his enemies, -that so covetous was he of Barsetshire property, that he would lead a -young neighbour on to his ruin, in order that he might get his land. -What--oh! what if he should come to be possessed in this way of any of -the fair acres of Framley Court? What if he should become possessed of -them all? It can hardly be wondered at that Lady Lufton should not like -Chaldicotes. - -The Chaldicotes set, as Lady Lufton called them, were in every way -opposed to what a set should be according to her ideas. She liked -cheerful, quiet, well-to-do people, who loved their Church, their -country, and their Queen, and who were not too anxious to make a noise -in the world. She desired that all the farmers round her should be able -to pay their rents without trouble, that all the old women should have -warm flannel petticoats, that the working men should be saved from -rheumatism by healthy food and dry houses, that they should all be -obedient to their pastors and masters--temporal as well as spiritual. -That was her idea of loving her country. She desired also that the -copses should be full of pheasants, the stubble-field of partridges, -and the gorse covers of foxes;--in that way, also, she loved her -country. She had ardently longed, during that Crimean war, that the -Russians might be beaten--but not by the French, to the exclusion of -the English, as had seemed to her to be too much the case; and hardly -by the English under the dictatorship of Lord Palmerston. Indeed, -she had had but little faith in that war after Lord Aberdeen had been -expelled. If, indeed, Lord Derby could have come in! - -But now as to this Chaldicotes set. After all, there was nothing -so very dangerous about them; for it was in London, not in the -country, that Mr. Sowerby indulged, if he did indulge, his bachelor -mal-practices. Speaking of them as a set, the chief offender was Mr. -Harold Smith, or perhaps his wife. He also was a member of Parliament, -and, as many thought, a rising man. His father had been for many years -a debater in the House, and had held high office. Harold, in early -life, had intended himself for the cabinet; and if working hard at his -trade could ensure success, he ought to obtain it sooner or later. -He had already filled more than one subordinate station, had been at -the Treasury, and for a month or two at the Admiralty, astonishing -official mankind by his diligence. Those last-named few months had -been under Lord Aberdeen, with whom he had been forced to retire. He -was a younger son, and not possessed of any large fortune. Politics -as a profession was therefore of importance to him. He had in early -life married a sister of Mr. Sowerby; and as the lady was some six or -seven years older than himself, and had brought with her but a scanty -dowry, people thought that in this matter Mr. Harold Smith had not -been perspicacious. Mr. Harold Smith was not personally a popular man -with any party, though some judged him to be eminently useful. He -was laborious, well-informed, and, on the whole, honest; but he was -conceited, long-winded, and pompous. - -Mrs. Harold Smith was the very opposite of her lord. She was a clever, -bright woman, good-looking for her time of life--and she was now over -forty--with a keen sense of the value of all worldly things, and a -keen relish for all the world’s pleasures. She was neither laborious, -nor well-informed, nor perhaps altogether honest--what woman ever -understood the necessity or recognized the advantage of political -honesty? but then she was neither dull nor pompous, and if she was -conceited, she did not show it. She was a disappointed woman, as -regards her husband; seeing that she had married him on the speculation -that he would at once become politically important; and as yet Mr. -Smith had not quite fulfilled the prophecies of his early life. - -And Lady Lufton, when she spoke of the Chaldicotes set, distinctly -included, in her own mind, the Bishop of Barchester, and his wife -and daughter. Seeing that Bishop Proudie was, of course, a man much -addicted to religion and to religious thinking, and that Mr. Sowerby -himself had no peculiar religious sentiments whatever, there would not -at first sight appear to be ground for much intercourse, and perhaps -there was not much of such intercourse; but Mrs. Proudie and Mrs. -Harold Smith were firm friends of four or five years’ standing--ever -since the Proudies came into the diocese; and therefore the bishop -was usually taken to Chaldicotes whenever Mrs. Smith paid her brother -a visit. Now Bishop Proudie was by no means a High Church dignitary, -and Lady Lufton had never forgiven him for coming into that diocese. -She had, instinctively, a high respect for the episcopal office; -but of Bishop Proudie himself she hardly thought better than she did -of Mr. Sowerby, or of that fabricator of evil, the Duke of Omnium. -Whenever Mr. Robarts would plead that in going anywhere he would have -the benefit of meeting the bishop, Lady Lufton would slightly curl her -upper lip. She could not say in words, that Bishop Proudie--bishop as -he certainly must be called--was no better than he ought to be; but by -that curl of her lip she did explain to those who knew her that such -was the inner feeling of her heart. - -And then it was understood--Mark Robarts, at least, had so heard, -and the information soon reached Framley Court--that Mr. Supplehouse -was to make one of the Chaldicotes party. Now Mr. Supplehouse was a -worse companion for a gentlemanlike, young, High Church, conservative -county parson than even Harold Smith. He also was in Parliament, and -had been extolled during the early days of that Russian war by some -portion of the metropolitan daily press, as the only man who could save -the country. Let him be in the ministry, the _Jupiter_ had said, and -there would be some hope of reform, some chance that England’s ancient -glory would not be allowed in these perilous times to go headlong to -oblivion. And upon this the ministry, not anticipating much salvation -from Mr. Supplehouse, but willing, as they usually are, to have the -_Jupiter_ at their back, did send for that gentleman, and gave him -some footing among them. But how can a man born to save a nation, and -to lead a people, be content to fill the chair of an under-secretary? -Supplehouse was not content, and soon gave it to be understood that -his place was much higher than any yet tendered to him. The seals of -high office, or war to the knife, was the alternative which he offered -to a much-belaboured Head of Affairs--nothing doubting that the Head -of Affairs would recognize the claimant’s value, and would have before -his eyes a wholesome fear of the _Jupiter_. But the Head of Affairs, -much belaboured as he was, knew that he might pay too high even for Mr. -Supplehouse and the _Jupiter_; and the saviour of the nation was told -that he might swing his tomahawk. Since that time he had been swinging -his tomahawk, but not with so much effect as had been anticipated. He -also was very intimate with Mr. Sowerby, and was decidedly one of the -Chaldicotes set. - -And there were many others included in the stigma whose sins were -political or religious rather than moral. But they were gall and -wormwood to Lady Lufton, who regarded them as children of the Lost -One, and who grieved with a mother’s grief when she knew that her son -was among them, and felt all a patron’s anger when she heard that her -clerical _protégé_ was about to seek such society. Mrs. Robarts might -well say that Lady Lufton would be annoyed. - -“You won’t call at the house before you go, will you?” the wife asked -on the following morning. He was to start after lunch on that day, -driving himself in his own gig, so as to reach Chaldicotes, some -twenty-four miles distant, before dinner. - -“No, I think not. What good should I do?” - -“Well, I can’t explain; but I think I should call: partly, perhaps, to -show her that as I had determined to go, I was not afraid of telling -her so.” - -“Afraid! That’s nonsense, Fanny. I’m not afraid of her. But I don’t see -why I should bring down upon myself the disagreeable things she will -say. Besides, I have not time. I must walk up and see Jones about the -duties; and then, what with getting ready, I shall have enough to do to -get off in time.” - -He paid his visit to Mr. Jones, the curate, feeling no qualms of -conscience there, as he rather boasted of all the members of Parliament -he was going to meet, and of the bishop who would be with them. Mr. -Evan Jones was only his curate, and in speaking to him on the matter he -could talk as though it were quite the proper thing for a vicar to meet -his bishop at the house of a county member. And one would be inclined -to say that it was proper: only why could he not talk of it in the same -tone to Lady Lufton? And then, having kissed his wife and children, he -drove off, well pleased with his prospect for the coming ten days, but -already anticipating some discomfort on his return. - -On the three following days, Mrs. Robarts did not meet her ladyship. -She did not exactly take any steps to avoid such a meeting, but she did -not purposely go up to the big house. She went to her school as usual, -and made one or two calls among the farmers’ wives, but put no foot -within the Framley Court grounds. She was braver than her husband, but -even she did not wish to anticipate the evil day. - -On the Saturday, just before it began to get dusk, when she was -thinking of preparing for the fatal plunge, her friend, Lady Meredith, -came to her. - -“So, Fanny, we shall again be so unfortunate as to miss Mr. Robarts,” -said her ladyship. - -“Yes. Did you ever know anything so unlucky? But he had promised Mr. -Sowerby before he heard that you were coming. Pray do not think that he -would have gone away had he known it.” - -“We should have been sorry to keep him from so much more amusing a -party.” - -“Now, Justinia, you are unfair. You intend to imply that he has gone to -Chaldicotes, because he likes it better than Framley Court; but that is -not the case. I hope Lady Lufton does not think that it is.” - -Lady Meredith laughed as she put her arm round her friend’s waist. -“Don’t lose your eloquence in defending him to me,” she said. “You’ll -want all that for my mother.” - -“But is your mother angry?” asked Mrs. Robarts, showing by her -countenance, how eager she was for true tidings on the subject. - -“Well, Fanny, you know her ladyship as well as I do. She thinks so very -highly of the vicar of Framley, that she does begrudge him to those -politicians at Chaldicotes.” - -“But, Justinia, the bishop is to be there, you know.” - -“I don’t think that that consideration will at all reconcile my mother -to the gentleman’s absence. He ought to be very proud, I know, to find -that he is so much thought of. But come, Fanny, I want you to walk back -with me, and you can dress at the house. And now we’ll go and look at -the children.” - -After that, as they walked together to Framley Court, Mrs. Robarts made -her friend promise that she would stand by her if any serious attack -were made on the absent clergyman. - -“Are you going up to your room at once?” said the vicar’s wife, as soon -as they were inside the porch leading into the hall. Lady Meredith -immediately knew what her friend meant, and decided that the evil day -should not be postponed. “We had better go in, and have it over,” -she said, “and then we shall be comfortable for the evening.” So the -drawing-room door was opened, and there was Lady Lufton alone upon the -sofa. - -“Now, mamma,” said the daughter, “you mustn’t scold Fanny much about -Mr. Robarts. He has gone to preach a charity sermon before the bishop, -and under those circumstances, perhaps, he could not refuse.” This was -a stretch on the part of Lady Meredith--put in with much good nature, -no doubt; but still a stretch; for no one had supposed that the bishop -would remain at Chaldicotes for the Sunday. - -“How do you do, Fanny?” said Lady Lufton, getting up. “I am not -going to scold her; and I don’t know how you can talk such nonsense, -Justinia. Of course, we are very sorry not to have Mr. Robarts; more -especially as he was not here the last Sunday that Sir George was with -us. I do like to see Mr. Robarts in his own church, certainly; and I -don’t like any other clergyman there as well. If Fanny takes that for -scolding, why----” - -“Oh! no, Lady Lufton; and it’s so kind of you to say so. But Mr. -Robarts was so sorry that he had accepted this invitation to -Chaldicotes, before he heard that Sir George was coming, and----” - -“Oh, I know that Chaldicotes has great attractions which we cannot -offer,” said Lady Lufton. - -“Indeed, it was not that. But he was asked to preach, you know; and Mr. -Harold Smith----” Poor Fanny was only making it worse. Had she been -worldly wise, she would have accepted the little compliment implied in -Lady Lufton’s first rebuke, and then have held her peace. - -“Oh, yes; the Harold Smiths! They are irresistible, I know. How could -any man refuse to join a party, graced both by Mrs. Harold Smith and -Mrs. Proudie--even though his duty should require him to stay away?” - -“Now, mamma--” said Justinia. - -“Well, my dear, what am I to say? You would not wish me to tell a -fib. I don’t like Mrs. Harold Smith--at least, what I hear of her; -for it has not been my fortune to meet her since her marriage. It may -be conceited; but to own the truth, I think that Mr. Robarts would -be better off with us at Framley than with the Harold Smiths at -Chaldicotes,--even though Mrs. Proudie be thrown into the bargain.” - -It was nearly dark, and therefore the rising colour in the face of Mrs. -Robarts could not be seen. She, however, was too good a wife to hear -these things said without some anger within her bosom. She could blame -her husband in her own mind; but it was intolerable to her that others -should blame him in her hearing. - -“He would undoubtedly be better off,” she said; “but then, Lady Lufton, -people can’t always go exactly where they will be best off. Gentlemen -sometimes must----” - -“Well--well, my dear, that will do. He has not taken you, at any -rate; and so we will forgive him.” And Lady Lufton kissed her. “As it -is,”--and she affected a low whisper between the two young wives--“as -it is, we must e’en put up with poor old Evan Jones. He is to be here -to-night, and we must go and dress to receive him.” - -And so they went off. Lady Lufton was quite good enough at heart to -like Mrs. Robarts all the better for standing up for her absent lord. - - - CHAPTER III. - - CHALDICOTES. - -Chaldicotes is a house of much more pretension than Framley Court. -Indeed, if one looks at the ancient marks about it, rather than -at those of the present day, it is a place of very considerable -pretension. There is an old forest, not altogether belonging to the -property, but attached to it, called the Chase of Chaldicotes. A -portion of this forest comes up close behind the mansion, and of -itself gives a character and celebrity to the place. The Chase of -Chaldicotes--the greater part of it, at least--is, as all the world -knows, Crown property, and now, in these utilitarian days, is to be -disforested. In former times it was a great forest, stretching half -across the country, almost as far as Silverbridge; and there are bits -of it, here and there, still to be seen at intervals throughout the -whole distance; but the larger remaining portion, consisting of aged -hollow oaks, centuries old, and wide-spreading withered beeches, stands -in the two parishes of Chaldicotes and Uffley. People still come from -afar to see the oaks of Chaldicotes, and to hear their feet rustle -among the thick autumn leaves. But they will soon come no longer. The -giants of past ages are to give way to wheat and turnips; a ruthless -Chancellor of the Exchequer, disregarding old associations and rural -beauty, requires money returns from the lands; and the Chase of -Chaldicotes is to vanish from the earth’s surface. - -Some part of it, however, is the private property of Mr. Sowerby, -who hitherto, through all his pecuniary distresses, has managed to -save from the axe and the auction-mart that portion of his paternal -heritage. The house of Chaldicotes is a large stone building, probably -of the time of Charles the Second. It is approached on both fronts -by a heavy double flight of stone steps. In the front of the house -a long, solemn, straight avenue through a double row of lime-trees, -leads away to lodge-gates, which stand in the centre of the village -of Chaldicotes; but to the rear the windows open upon four different -vistas, which run down through the forest: four open green rides, -which all converge together at a large iron gateway, the barrier which -divides the private grounds from the Chase. The Sowerbys, for many -generations, have been rangers of the Chase of Chaldicotes, thus having -almost as wide an authority over the Crown forest as over their own. -But now all this is to cease, for the forest will be disforested. - -It was nearly dark as Mark Robarts drove up through the avenue of -lime-trees to the hall-door; but it was easy to see that the house, -which was dead and silent as the grave through nine months of the -year, was now alive in all its parts. There were lights in many of the -windows, and a noise of voices came from the stables, and servants were -moving about, and dogs barked, and the dark gravel before the front -steps was cut up with many a coach-wheel. - -“Oh, be that you, sir, Mr. Robarts?” said a groom, taking the parson’s -horse by the head, and touching his own hat. “I hope I see your -reverence well.” - -“Quite well, Bob, thank you. All well at Chaldicotes?” - -“Pretty bobbish, Mr. Robarts. Deal of life going on here now, sir. The -bishop and his lady came this morning.” - -“Oh--ah--yes! I understood they were to be here. Any of the young -ladies?” - -“One young lady. Miss Olivia, I think they call her, your reverence.” - -“And how’s Mr. Sowerby?” - -“Very well, your reverence. He, and Mr. Harold Smith, and Mr. -Fothergill--that’s the duke’s man of business, you know--is getting off -their horses now in the stable-yard there.” - -“Home from hunting--eh, Bob?” - -“Yes, sir, just home, this minute.” And then Mr. Robarts walked into -the house, his portmanteau following on a footboy’s shoulder. - -It will be seen that our young vicar was very intimate at Chaldicotes; -so much so that the groom knew him, and talked to him about the people -in the house. Yes; he was intimate there: much more than he had given, -the Framley people to understand. Not that he had wilfully and overtly -deceived any one; not that he had ever spoken a false word about -Chaldicotes. But he had never boasted at home that he and Sowerby were -near allies. Neither had he told them there how often Mr. Sowerby -and Lord Lufton were together in London. Why trouble women with such -matters? Why annoy so excellent a woman as Lady Lufton? - -And then Mr. Sowerby was one whose intimacy few young men would wish -to reject. He was fifty, and had lived, perhaps, not the most salutary -life; but he dressed young, and usually looked well. He was bald, with -a good forehead, and sparkling moist eyes. He was a clever man, and a -pleasant companion, and always good-humoured when it so suited him. He -was a gentleman, too, of high breeding and good birth, whose ancestors -had been known in that county--longer, the farmers around would boast, -than those of any other landowner in it, unless it be the Thornes -of Ullathorne, or perhaps the Greshams of Greshamsbury--much longer -than the De Courcys at Courcy Castle. As for the Duke of Omnium, he, -comparatively speaking, was a new man. - -And then he was a member of Parliament, a friend of some men in power, -and of others who might be there; a man who could talk about the world -as one knowing the matter of which he talked. And moreover, whatever -might be his ways of life at other times, when in the presence of a -clergyman he rarely made himself offensive to clerical tastes. He -neither swore, nor brought his vices on the carpet, nor sneered at the -faith of the church. If he was no churchman himself, he at least knew -how to live with those who were. - -How was it possible that such a one as our vicar should not relish -the intimacy of Mr. Sowerby? It might be very well, he would say to -himself, for a woman like Lady Lufton to turn up her nose at him--for -Lady Lufton, who spent ten months of the year at Framley Court, and -who during those ten months, and for the matter of that, during the -two months also which she spent in London, saw no one out of her own -set. Women did not understand such things, the vicar said to himself; -even his own wife--good, and nice, and sensible, and intelligent as she -was--even she did not understand that a man in the world must meet all -sorts of men; and that in these days it did not do for a clergyman to -be a hermit. - -’Twas thus that Mark Robarts argued when he found himself called upon -to defend himself before the bar of his own conscience for going to -Chaldicotes and increasing his intimacy with Mr. Sowerby. He did know -that Mr. Sowerby was a dangerous man; he was aware that he was over -head and ears in debt, and that he had already entangled young Lord -Lufton in some pecuniary embarrassment; his conscience did tell him -that it would be well for him, as one of Christ’s soldiers, to look -out for companions of a different stamp. But nevertheless he went -to Chaldicotes, not satisfied with himself indeed, but repeating to -himself a great many arguments why he should be so satisfied. - -He was shown into the drawing-room at once, and there he found Mrs. -Harold Smith, with Mrs. and Miss Proudie, and a lady whom he had never -before seen, and whose name he did not at first hear mentioned. - -“Is that Mr. Robarts?” said Mrs. Harold Smith, getting up to greet him, -and screening her pretended ignorance under the veil of the darkness. -“And have you really driven over four-and-twenty miles of Barsetshire -roads on such a day as this to assist us in our little difficulties? -Well, we can promise you gratitude at any rate.” - -And then the vicar shook hands with Mrs. Proudie, in that deferential -manner which is due from a vicar to his bishop’s wife; and Mrs. -Proudie returned the greeting with all that smiling condescension -which a bishop’s wife should show to a vicar. Miss Proudie was not -quite so civil. Had Mr. Robarts been still unmarried, she also could -have smiled sweetly; but she had been exercising smiles on clergymen -too long to waste them now on a married parish parson. - -“And what are the difficulties, Mrs. Smith, in which I am to assist -you?” - -“We have six or seven gentlemen here, Mr. Robarts, and they always go -out hunting before breakfast, and they never come back--I was going to -say--till after dinner. I wish it were so, for then we should not have -to wait for them.” - -“Excepting Mr. Supplehouse, you know,” said the unknown lady, in a loud -voice. - -“And he is generally shut up in the library, writing articles.” - -“He’d be better employed if he were trying to break his neck like the -others,” said the unknown lady. - -“Only he would never succeed,” said Mrs. Harold Smith. “But perhaps, -Mr. Robarts, you are as bad as the rest; perhaps you, too, will be -hunting to-morrow.” - -“My dear Mrs. Smith!” said Mrs. Proudie, in a tone denoting slight -reproach, and modified horror. - -“Oh! I forgot. No, of course, you won’t be hunting, Mr. Robarts; you’ll -only be wishing that you could.” - -“Why can’t he?” said the lady with the loud voice. - -“My dear Miss Dunstable! a clergyman hunt, while he is staying in the -same house with the bishop? Think of the proprieties!” - -“Oh--ah! The bishop wouldn’t like it--wouldn’t he? Now, do tell me, -sir, what would the bishop do to you if you did hunt?” - -“It would depend upon his mood at the time, madam,” said Mr. Robarts. -“If that were very stern, he might perhaps have me beheaded before the -palace gates.” - -Mrs. Proudie drew herself up in her chair, showing that she did -not like the tone of the conversation; and Miss Proudie fixed her -eyes vehemently on her book, showing that Miss Dunstable and her -conversation were both beneath her notice. - -“If these gentlemen do not mean to break their necks to-night,” said -Mrs. Harold Smith, “I wish they’d let us know it. It’s half-past six -already.” - -And then Mr. Robarts gave them to understand that no such catastrophe -could be looked for that day, as Mr. Sowerby and the other sportsmen -were within the stable-yard when he entered the door. - -“Then, ladies, we may as well dress,” said Mrs. Harold Smith. But as -she moved towards the door, it opened, and a short gentleman, with a -slow, quiet step, entered the room; but was not yet to be distinguished -through the dusk by the eyes of Mr. Robarts. “Oh! bishop, is that you?” -said Mrs. Smith. “Here is one of the luminaries of your diocese.” And -then the bishop, feeling through the dark, made his way up to the vicar -and shook him cordially by the hand. “He was delighted to meet Mr. -Robarts at Chaldicotes,” he said--“quite delighted. Was he not going -to preach on behalf of the Papuan Mission next Sunday? Ah! so he, the -bishop, had heard. It was a good work, an excellent work.” And then Dr. -Proudie expressed himself as much grieved that he could not remain at -Chaldicotes, and hear the sermon. It was plain that his bishop thought -no ill of him on account of his intimacy with Mr. Sowerby. But then he -felt in his own heart that he did not much regard his bishop’s opinion. - -“Ah, Robarts, I’m delighted to see you,” said Mr. Sowerby, when they -met on the drawing-room rug before dinner. “You know Harold Smith? -Yes, of course you do. Well, who else is there? Oh! Supplehouse. Mr. -Supplehouse, allow me to introduce to you my friend Mr. Robarts. It is -he who will extract the five-pound note out of your pocket next Sunday -for these poor Papuans whom we are going to Christianize. That is, -if Harold Smith does not finish the work out of hand at his Saturday -lecture. And, Robarts, you have seen the bishop, of course:” this he -said in a whisper. “A fine thing to be a bishop, isn’t it? I wish I -had half your chance. But, my dear fellow, I’ve made such a mistake; I -haven’t got a bachelor parson for Miss Proudie. You must help me out, -and take her in to dinner.” And then the great gong sounded, and off -they went in pairs. - -At dinner Mark found himself seated between Miss Proudie and the lady -whom he had heard named as Miss Dunstable. Of the former he was not -very fond, and, in spite of his host’s petition, was not inclined to -play bachelor parson for her benefit. With the other lady he would -willingly have chatted during the dinner, only that everybody else at -table seemed to be intent on doing the same thing. She was neither -young, nor beautiful, nor peculiarly ladylike; yet she seemed to enjoy -a popularity which must have excited the envy of Mr. Supplehouse, and -which certainly was not altogether to the taste of Mrs. Proudie--who, -however, fêted her as much as did the others. So that our clergyman -found himself unable to obtain more than an inconsiderable share of the -lady’s attention. - -“Bishop,” said she, speaking across the table, “we have missed you so -all day! we have had no one on earth to say a word to us.” - -“My dear Miss Dunstable, had I known that----But I really was engaged -on business of some importance.” - -“I don’t believe in business of importance; do you, Mrs. Smith?” - -“Do I not?” said Mrs. Smith. “If you were married to Mr. Harold Smith -for one week, you’d believe in it.” - -“Should I, now? What a pity that I can’t have that chance of improving -my faith. But you are a man of business, also, Mr. Supplehouse; so they -tell me.” And she turned to her neighbour on her right hand. - -“I cannot compare myself to Harold Smith,” said he. “But perhaps I may -equal the bishop.” - -“What does a man do, now, when he sets himself down to business? How -does he set about it? What are his tools? A quire of blotting paper, I -suppose, to begin with?” - -“That depends, I should say, on his trade. A shoemaker begins by waxing -his thread.” - -“And Mr. Harold Smith----?” - -“By counting up his yesterday’s figures, generally, I should say; -or else by unrolling a ball of red tape. Well-docketed papers and -statistical facts are his forte.” - -“And what does a bishop do? Can you tell me that?” - -“He sends forth to his clergy either blessings or blowings-up, -according to the state of his digestive organs. But Mrs. Proudie can -explain all that to you with the greatest accuracy.” - -“Can she, now? I understand what you mean, but I don’t believe a word -of it. The bishop manages his own affairs himself, quite as much as you -do, or Mr. Harold Smith.” - -“I, Miss Dunstable?” - -“Yes, you.” - -“But I, unluckily, have not a wife to manage them for me.” - -“Then you should not laugh at those who have, for you don’t know what -you may come to yourself, when you’re married.” - -Mr. Supplehouse began to make a pretty speech, saying that he would -be delighted to incur any danger in that respect to which he might -be subjected by the companionship of Miss Dunstable. But before he -was half through it, she had turned her back upon him, and began a -conversation with Mark Robarts. - -“Have you much work in your parish, Mr. Robarts?” she asked. Now, Mark -was not aware that she knew his name, or the fact of his having a -parish, and was rather surprised by the question. And he had not quite -liked the tone in which she had seemed to speak of the bishop and his -work. His desire for her further acquaintance was therefore somewhat -moderated, and he was not prepared to answer her question with much -zeal. - -“All parish clergymen have plenty of work, if they choose to do it.” - -“Ah, that is it; is it not, Mr. Robarts? If they choose to do it? A -great many do--many that I know, do; and see what a result they have. -But many neglect it--and see what a result _they_ have. I think it -ought to be the happiest life that a man can lead, that of a parish -clergyman, with a wife and family, and a sufficient income.” - -“I think it is,” said Mark Robarts, asking himself whether the -contentment accruing to him from such blessings had made him satisfied -at all points. He had all these things of which Miss Dunstable spoke, -and yet he had told his wife, the other day, that he could not afford -to neglect the acquaintance of a rising politician like Harold Smith. - -“What I find fault with is this,” continued Miss Dunstable, “that we -expect clergymen to do their duty, and don’t give them a sufficient -income--give them hardly any income at all. Is it not a scandal, that -an educated gentleman with a family should be made to work half his -life, and perhaps the whole, for a pittance of seventy pounds a year?” - -Mark said that it was a scandal, and thought of Mr. Evan Jones and his -daughter;--and thought also of his own worth, and his own house, and -his own nine hundred a year. - -“And yet you clergymen are so proud--aristocratic would be the genteel -word, I know--that you won’t take the money of common, ordinary poor -people. You must be paid from land and endowments, from tithe and -church property. You can’t bring yourself to work for what you earn, as -lawyers and doctors do. It is better that curates should starve than -undergo such ignominy as that.” - -“It is a long subject, Miss Dunstable.” - -“A very long one; and that means that I am not to say any more about -it.” - -“I did not mean that exactly.” - -“Oh! but you did though, Mr. Robarts. And I can take a hint of that -kind when I get it. You clergymen like to keep those long subjects -for your sermons, when no one can answer you. Now if I have a longing -heart’s desire for anything at all in this world, it is to be able to -get up into a pulpit, and preach a sermon.” - -“You can’t conceive how soon that appetite would pall upon you, after -its first indulgence.” - -“That would depend upon whether I could get people to listen to me. -It does not pall upon Mr. Spurgeon, I suppose.” Then her attention -was called away by some question from Mr. Sowerby, and Mark Robarts -found himself bound to address his conversation to Miss Proudie. -Miss Proudie, however, was not thankful, and gave him little but -monosyllables for his pains. - -“Of course you know Harold Smith is going to give us a lecture about -these islanders,” Mr. Sowerby said to him, as they sat round the fire -over their wine after dinner. Mark said that he had been so informed, -and should be delighted to be one of the listeners. - -“You are bound to do that, as he is going to listen to you the day -afterwards--or, at any rate, to pretend to do so, which is as much as -you will do for him. It’ll be a terrible bore--the lecture I mean, not -the sermon.” And he spoke very low into his friend’s ear. “Fancy having -to drive ten miles after dusk, and ten miles back, to hear Harold Smith -talk for two hours about Borneo! One must do it, you know.” - -“I daresay it will be very interesting.” - -“My dear fellow, you haven’t undergone so many of these things as I -have. But he’s right to do it. It’s his line of life; and when a man -begins a thing he ought to go on with it. Where’s Lufton all this time?” - -“In Scotland, when I last heard from him; but he’s probably at Melton -now.” - -“It’s deuced shabby of him, not hunting here in his own county. He -escapes all the bore of going to lectures, and giving feeds to the -neighbours; that’s why he treats us so. He has no idea of his duty, has -he?” - -“Lady Lufton does all that, you know.” - -“I wish I’d a Mrs. Sowerby _mère_ to do it for me. But then Lufton has -no constituents to look after--lucky dog! By-the-by, has he spoken to -you about selling that outlying bit of land of his in Oxfordshire? It -belongs to the Lufton property, and yet it doesn’t. In my mind it gives -more trouble than it’s worth.” - -Lord Lufton had spoken to Mark about this sale, and had explained to -him that such a sacrifice was absolutely necessary, in consequence -of certain pecuniary transactions between him, Lord Lufton, and Mr. -Sowerby. But it was found impracticable to complete the business -without Lady Lufton’s knowledge, and her son had commissioned Mr. -Robarts not only to inform her ladyship, but to talk her over, and to -appease her wrath. This commission he had not yet attempted to execute, -and it was probable that this visit to Chaldicotes would not do much to -facilitate the business. - -“They are the most magnificent islands under the sun,” said Harold -Smith to the bishop. - -“Are they, indeed?” said the bishop, opening his eyes wide, and -assuming a look of intense interest. - -“And the most intelligent people.” - -“Dear me!” said the bishop. - -“All they want is guidance, encouragement, instruction----” - -“And Christianity,” suggested the bishop. - -“And Christianity, of course,” said Mr. Smith, remembering that he -was speaking to a dignitary of the Church. It was well to humour such -people, Mr. Smith thought. But the Christianity was to be done in the -Sunday sermon, and was not part of his work. - -“And how do you intend to begin with them?” asked Mr. Supplehouse, the -business of whose life it had been to suggest difficulties. - -“Begin with them--oh--why--it’s very easy to begin with them. The -difficulty is to go on with them, after the money is all spent. We’ll -begin by explaining to them the benefits of civilization.” - -“Capital plan!” said Mr. Supplehouse. “But how do you set about it, -Smith?” - -“How do we set about it? How did we set about it with Australia and -America? It is very easy to criticize; but in such matters the great -thing is to put one’s shoulder to the wheel.” - -“We sent our felons to Australia,” said Supplehouse, “and they began -the work for us. And as to America, we exterminated the people instead -of civilizing them.” - -“We did not exterminate the inhabitants of India,” said Harold Smith, -angrily. - -“Nor have we attempted to Christianize them, as the bishop so properly -wishes to do with your islanders.” - -“Supplehouse, you are not fair,” said Mr. Sowerby, “neither to Harold -Smith nor to us;--you are making him rehearse his lecture, which is bad -for him; and making us hear the rehearsal, which is bad for us.” - -“Supplehouse belongs to a clique which monopolizes the wisdom of -England,” said Harold Smith; “or, at any rate, thinks that it does. But -the worst of them is that they are given to talk leading articles.” - -“Better that, than talk articles which are not leading,” said Mr. -Supplehouse. “Some first-class official men do that.” - -“Shall I meet you at the duke’s next week, Mr. Robarts,” said the -bishop to him, soon after they had gone into the drawing-room. - -Meet him at the duke’s!--the established enemy of Barsetshire mankind, -as Lady Lufton regarded his grace! No idea of going to the duke’s had -ever entered our hero’s mind; nor had he been aware that the duke was -about to entertain any one. - -“No, my lord; I think not. Indeed, I have no acquaintance with his -grace.” - -“Oh--ah! I did not know. Because Mr. Sowerby is going; and so are the -Harold Smiths, and, I think, Mr. Supplehouse. An excellent man is the -duke;--that is, as regards all the county interests,” added the bishop, -remembering that the moral character of his bachelor grace was not the -very best in the world. - -And then his lordship began to ask some questions about the church -affairs of Framley, in which a little interest as to Framley Court was -also mixed up, when he was interrupted by a rather sharp voice, to -which he instantly attended. - -“Bishop,” said the rather sharp voice; and the bishop trotted across -the room to the back of the sofa, on which his wife was sitting. - -“Miss Dunstable thinks that she will be able to come to us for a couple -of days, after we leave the duke’s.” - -“I shall be delighted above all things,” said the bishop, bowing low -to the dominant lady of the day. For be it known to all men, that Miss -Dunstable was the great heiress of that name. - -“Mrs. Proudie is so very kind as to say that she will take me in, with -my poodle, parrot, and pet old woman.” - -“I tell Miss Dunstable, that we shall have quite room for any of her -suite,” said Mrs. Proudie. “And that it will give us no trouble.” - -“‘The labour we delight in physics pain,’” said the gallant bishop, -bowing low, and putting his hand upon his heart. - -In the meantime, Mr. Fothergill had got hold of Mark Robarts. Mr. -Fothergill was a gentleman, and a magistrate of the county, but he -occupied the position of managing man on the Duke of Omnium’s estates. -He was not exactly his agent; that is to say, he did not receive his -rents; but he “managed” for him, saw people, went about the county, -wrote letters, supported the electioneering interest, did popularity -when it was too much trouble for the duke to do it himself, and was, in -fact, invaluable. People in West Barsetshire would often say that they -did not know what _on earth_ the duke would do, if it were not for Mr. -Fothergill. Indeed, Mr. Fothergill was useful to the duke. - -“Mr. Robarts,” he said, “I am very happy to have the pleasure of -meeting you--very happy, indeed. I have often heard of you from our -friend Sowerby.” - -Mark bowed, and said that he was delighted to have the honour of making -Mr. Fothergill’s acquaintance. - -“I am commissioned by the Duke of Omnium,” continued Mr. Fothergill, -“to say how glad he will be if you will join his grace’s party at -Gatherum Castle, next week. The bishop will be there, and indeed nearly -the whole set who are here now. The duke would have written when he -heard that you were to be at Chaldicotes; but things were hardly quite -arranged then, so his grace has left it for me to tell you how happy he -will be to make your acquaintance in his own house. I have spoken to -Sowerby,” continued Mr. Fothergill, “and he very much hopes that you -will be able to join us.” - -Mark felt that his face became red when this proposition was made to -him. The party in the county to which he properly belonged--he and his -wife, and all that made him happy and respectable--looked upon the Duke -of Omnium with horror and amazement; and now he had absolutely received -an invitation to the duke’s house! A proposition was made to him that -he should be numbered among the duke’s friends! - -And though in one sense he was sorry that the proposition was made to -him, yet in another he was proud of it. It is not every young man, let -his profession be what it may, who can receive overtures of friendship -from dukes without some elation. Mark, too, had risen in the world, -as far as he had yet risen, by knowing great people; and he certainly -had an ambition to rise higher. I will not degrade him by calling him -a tuft-hunter; but he undoubtedly had a feeling that the paths most -pleasant for a clergyman’s feet were those which were trodden by the -great ones of the earth. - -Nevertheless, at the moment he declined the duke’s invitation. He -was very much flattered, he said, but the duties of his parish would -require him to return direct from Chaldicotes to Framley. - -“You need not give me an answer to-night, you know,” said Mr. -Fothergill. “Before the week is past, we will talk it over with Sowerby -and the bishop. It will be a thousand pities, Mr. Robarts, if you will -allow me to say so, that you should neglect such an opportunity of -knowing his grace.” - -When Mark went to bed, his mind was still set against going to the -duke’s; but, nevertheless, he did feel that it was a pity that he -should not do so. After all, was it necessary that he should obey Lady -Lufton in all things? - - - - - The Chinese and the “Outer Barbarians.” - - -China, and questions of Chinese policy--which only two years ago -were the battle-field of fierce political contention, the subject of -debates which menaced a Ministry with downfall, dissolved a Parliament, -violently agitated the whole community at home, and engaged the -controversies of the whole civilized world--seemed again to have been -delivered over to that neglect and oblivion with which remote countries -and their concerns are ordinarily regarded; but after the lull and the -slumber, come again the rousing and the excitement, and China occupies -anew the columns of the periodical press, and awakens fresh interest in -the public mind. - -The startling events which have taken place on the _Tien-tsin_ river -in China--popularly, but erroneously, known by the name of the -Pei-Ho[1]--have re-kindled such an amount of attention and inquiry, -that we feel warranted in devoting some of our earliest pages to -the consideration of a topic involving our relations with a people -constituting more than one-third of the whole human family, and -commercial interests even now of vast extent, and likely to become in -their future development more important than those which connect us -with any other nation or region of the world. A brief recapitulation -of the events preceding this last manifestation of Chinese duplicity -will enable the reader to understand the character and objects of the -Chinese government in their dealings with other nations. - -A series of successful military and naval operations led to the -treaties with China of 1842. The arts and appliances of modern -warfare--the civilization of a powerful western nation--were directed -against armies and defenses which represented the unimproved strategy -of the middle ages,[2] and against regions pacific in their social -organization, yet disordered, and even dislocated by internecine -dissensions, which the enfeebled imperial authority was wholly -incompetent to subdue or to control. The reigning dynasty was little -able to resist a shock so overwhelming to its stolid pride, and -so unexpected to its ignorant shortsightedness. Its hold upon the -people being rather that of traditional prestige than of physical -domination, the humiliation felt was all the more intolerable because -inflicted by those “barbarians,” who, according to Chinese estimate, -are beyond “heaven’s canopy.” It is currently believed in China -that our earlier intercourse with the “central land” had only been -allowed by the gracious and pitying condescension of the “son of -heaven” to supplications that China might be permitted, from her -abounding superfluities, to provide for the urgent necessities of the -“outer races,” which could not otherwise be supplied. “How,” said the -benevolent councillors of the Great Bright Dynasty, “how, without the -rhubarb of the Celestial dominions, can the diseases of the red-haired -races be cured? how can their existence be supported without our -fragrant tea? how can their persons be adorned, unless your sacred -Majesty will allow their traders to purchase and to convey to them our -beautiful silk? Think how far they come--how patiently they wait--how -humbly they supplicate for a single ray from the lustrous presence. Let -not their hearts be made disconsolate by being sent empty away.” - -Even after the severe lessons which the Chinese received in the war, -and the sad exhibitions of their utter inability to offer any effectual -resistance to our forces, the reports made by Keying, the negotiator of -our first treaty, as to the proper manner of dealing with “barbarians,” -are equally amusing and characteristic. These reports were honoured -with the autograph approval of the emperor Taou-Kwang, written with -“the vermilion pencil,”[3] and were found at Canton among the papers -of Commissioner Yeh, to whom they had been sent for his guidance and -instruction. In the end they proved fatal to the venerable diplomatist; -for he having been sent down from the capital to Tien-tsin in order -to meet the foreign ambassadors, and there to give practical evidence -that he knew how to “manage and pacify” the Western barbarians, the -documents which proved his own earlier treacheries were produced; he -was put to open shame, and the poor old man, though a member of the -Imperial family, was condemned to be publicly executed: a sentence -which the emperor, in consideration for his high rank and extreme -age, commuted into a permission, or rather a mandate, that he should -commit suicide. Keying gratefully accepted this last favour from his -sovereign, and so terminated his long and most memorable career. - -It is withal not the less true that these reports represent the -concentrated wisdom of the sages of China, and are fair and reasonable -commentaries upon the teachings of the ancient books in reference to -the proper mode of subduing or taming the “outside nations;” and as -they throw much light upon the course of the mandarins, and give us the -key by which their policy may be generally interpreted, some account of -them will be neither superfluous nor uninstructive. - -After stating that the English “barbarians” had been “pacified” in -1842, and the American and French “barbarians” in 1844, Keying goes on -to report that it had been necessary to “shift ground,” and change the -measures by which they were to be “tethered.” “Of course,” he says, -they must be dealt with “justly,” and their “feelings consulted;” but -they cannot be restrained without “stratagems”--and thus he explains -his “stratagems.” Sometimes they must be “ordered” (to obey), and “no -reason given;” sometimes there must be “demonstrations” to disarm -their “restlessness” and “suspicions;” sometimes they must be placed -on a footing of “equality,” to make them “pleased” and “grateful;” -their “falsehoods must be blinked,” and their “facts” not too closely -examined. Being “born beyond” (heaven’s canopy), the barbarians “cannot -perfectly understand the administration of the Celestial dynasty,” -nor the promulgation of the “silken sounds” (imperial decrees) by -the “Great Council.” Keying excuses himself for having, in order “to -gain their good-will,” eaten and drunk with “the barbarians in their -residences and ships;” but he was most embarrassed by the consideration -shown by the barbarians towards “their women,”[4] whom they constantly -introduced; but he did not deem it becoming “to break out in rebuke,” -which would “not clear their barbarian dulness.” He urges, however, the -increasing necessity of “keeping them off, and shutting them out.” He -takes great credit for refusing the “barbarians’ gifts,” the receipt of -which might, he says, have exposed him to the penalties of the law. He -did accept some trifles; but, giving effect to the Confucian maxim of -“receiving little and returning much,” he gave the barbarians in return -“snuff-bottles, purses,” and a “copy of his insignificant portrait.” - -He says the “barbarians” have “filched Chinese titles for their -rulers:” thus “assuming the airs of great authority,” which he -acknowledges to be “no concern of ours;” but they will not accept any -designation denoting dependency, nor adopt the lunar calendar, nor -acknowledge patents of royalty from the “son of heaven.” They are so -“uncivilized,” so “blindly ignorant” of propriety, that to require them -to recognize becoming “inferiority” and “superiority,” would “lead to -fierce altercation;” and after all, he recommends disregarding these -“minor details,” in order to carry out “an important policy.” He -presents to the “sacred intelligence” this hasty outline of the “rough -settlement of the barbarian business.”[5] On the general character of -the official papers seized in Yeh’s yamun, Mr. Wade reports:-- - - “The foreigner is represented as inferior in civilization, - unreasonable, crafty, violent, and in consequence dangerous. The - instructions of the court are accordingly to lecture him fraternally - or magisterially, and by this means it is hoped to keep in hand his - perpetual tendency to encroach and intrude. A stern tone is to be - adopted on occasion, but always with due regard to the avoidance of - an open rupture.” - -There were grave omissions in Sir Henry Pottinger’s treaty of 1842. -It left the shipping and commercial relations of the British colony -of Hong Kong in a very unsatisfactory state, encumbering them with -regulations to which it was found impossible to give effect; and the -trade emancipated itself by its own irresistible energies to the common -advantage of China and Great Britain. The treaty contained no clause -declaring the British text to be the true reading, and the consequence -was, various and embarrassing interpretations of the intentions of the -negotiators; the Chinese naturally enough contending for the accuracy -of their version, while, quite as naturally, our merchants would abide -only by the English reading.[6] There is no condition providing for the -revision of the treaty, and it is only under “the most favoured nation” -clause, which concedes to us everything conceded to other powers, that -we have a claim to a revision; but we cannot demand such revision, -unless and until it is granted to the French or the Americans. - -But the most fatal mistake of all was that which fixed on Canton as the -seat of our diplomatic relations with China. It removed our influence -from the capital to the remotest part of the empire--to a province -always looked upon with apprehension and distrust by the supreme -authorities at Peking, and among a population remarkable alike for -their unruly disposition and their intense and openly proclaimed hatred -to foreigners. It had been Keying’s calculation (and his assurances -were most welcome to the court) that the emperor would thus get rid -of all annoyance from Western “barbarians,” who would be kept in -order by the indomitable spirit of the Cantonese. No provision was -made for personal access to the high commissioner charged with the -conduct of “barbarian affairs,” still less for communication, even by -correspondence, with the capital. This was the first great triumph of -Chinese policy, and has been fertile in producing fruits of mischief -and misery. - -Sir Henry Pottinger never visited Canton; he never examined the ground -on which he placed the future representatives of Great Britain; he -listened to the declarations of Keying, that the difficulties in the -way of a becoming reception there were then insuperable; that they -would be removed by time, which might render the turbulent Cantonese -population more reasonable; he relied on the assurance that everything -would be done to prepare the way for a happier state of things. No -doubt there were difficulties; but they were not invincible: they -ought, then and there, to have been surmounted. Pottinger little knew -with what a faithless element he had to deal, and little dreamed that -delay would be taken advantage of, not to lessen, but increase the -resistance; that it would be employed not to facilitate, but to thwart -our object--not to soothe, but to exasperate the people. Pottinger -deemed his treaty a bridge to aid--Keying meant it to be a barrier -to resist--our entrance into China. But Sir Henry, before his death, -acknowledged his error, and deeply lamented that his confidence had -been misplaced. Abundant evidence has since been furnished that the -treaty was signed, not with the purpose of honestly giving effect to -its conditions, but to get rid of the “barbarian” pressure, and to bide -the time, when the treaty obligations could be got rid of altogether. - -Proofs were not wanting of this dishonest purpose, and, in consequence, -after some hesitation, it was deemed necessary by the British -Government to remind the Chinese that their obligation to admit her -Majesty’s subjects into Canton had not been fulfilled; and they were -advised that the Island of Chusan, which we held as a guarantee, would -not be surrendered until security was given for the compliance with the -treaty stipulation. A short delay was asked by the Chinese, and the -assurance, under the authority of the “vermilion pencil,” was renewed, -that arrangements would be made for our having access to the city. -Chusan was in consequence given up to the Chinese authorities; but no -steps were taken to prepare the “public mind” to receive us as friends -and allies within the walls of Canton. On the contrary, incendiary -placards, breathing the utmost enmity to foreigners, continued to be -promulgated and pasted on the walls. In 1847, Sir John Davis, naturally -impatient at Keying’s procrastination and subterfuges, determined to -capture the Bogue forts, to move with military forces upon Canton, -and to threaten the city into compliance with obligations so long -trifled with and disregarded. Keying asked for time, and entered into -a formal written engagement that the city should be opened in April, -1849. When the time was at hand, Sir George Bonham, who had succeeded -to the governorship of Hong Kong, sought an interview with Seu, who -had replaced Keying as imperial commissioner. Seu did not hesitate -to say that the ministers had been engaged in a common purpose of -deception--that the Chinese and British were both aware the gates -were not to be opened--that each had avoided the responsibility of -bringing the matter to issue, and had left it to their successors. -Seu said he would refer the question to the emperor. The emperor’s -reply was the stereotyped instruction to all mandarins, who have any -relations with foreigners: “Keep the barbarians at a distance if you -can--but above all things keep the peace.” Now, though we had a large -fleet at Hong Kong, the imperial commissioner had undoubtedly obtained -information, from some quarter or other, that the fleet would not be -employed hostilely, and that he might “resist the barbarian” without -compromising the public tranquillity. So he negatived the demands of -the British. - -That our forbearance was a grievous mistake there can be little -hesitation in affirming. But the importance of the concession then -made was little understood, except by the Chinese, and to it may -be attributed the embarrassments which have since entangled our -negotiations with China. As the British Government determined to -leave the Canton question in a state of abeyance, Sir George Bonham -prohibited the Queen’s subjects from attempting to enter the city--a -prohibition which was taken immediate advantage of by the mandarins, -who proclaimed that our right to enter the city had been finally and -for ever withdrawn. By the orders of the emperor, who wrote to the high -commissioner that he had read “with tears of joy” the report, which -showed with what sagacity and courage he had, without the employment -of force, thwarted “the seditious demands of the barbarians,” six -triumphal arches were erected at the various entrances of the city of -Canton, to celebrate the wisdom and valour of the authorities; and the -names of all the distinguished Cantonese who had contributed to so -glorious a consummation were ordered to be inscribed upon the monuments -for immortal commemoration, while dignities and honours were showered -down upon the principal actors. A grand religious ceremonial, in which -all the high authorities took part, was also ordered to be celebrated -in the Temple of Potoo, which is dedicated to a foreign deified idol, -who is supposed to control the affairs of “Western barbarians.” These -triumphal arches--magnificently built of granite--were blown up by the -Allies after the capture of the city. - -It had indeed been long evident that it was the fixed purpose of the -Chinese authorities to escape from treaty obligations as soon as -they fancied that they were menaced by nothing more than a remote -and uncertain danger; the bow returned to its original bent as the -tightness of the string was relaxed. It was only while the pressure -of our presence was felt that any disposition was shown to respect -imperial engagements. The consuls of the United States and of France -had at first been received becomingly in Canton, by the viceroy; but, -in 1849, on the arrival of Consul Bowring, very subordinate mandarins -were appointed to visit him: the imperial commissioner altogether -refused any interview at any place. No official reception was therefore -given by the high mandarins to the British consular authorities, -who were utterly excluded from personal intercourse with them. The -stipulation of the treaty that the mandarins should, in conjunction -with the foreign authorities, assist in the arrangement of differences -between Chinese and British subjects, was absolutely a dead letter; and -the obligation on the part of the mandarins to aid officially in the -recovery of debts due to foreigners was utterly disregarded, when the -Chinese debtor was in a condition to bribe the native functionaries. - -The alienation and repulsion which had become the system and the rule -of the Chinese authorities, had been productive of consequences most -detrimental to their amicable relations with foreigners. Personal -intercourse affords the greatest facilities for the arrangement of -difficulties; and, even had the correspondence with the mandarins -been of the most frank and friendly character, the settlement of all -questions would have been greatly aided by frequent interviews. But -these were always avoided, and often on pleas the most untenable: -sometimes it was said that the weight of administrative business -prevented the granting an audience--sometimes that the viceroy -was preparing to attack the rebels, and might be visiting the -interior--sometimes that an auspicious day must be waited for. Replies -were sometimes long delayed; sometimes never given; and it was seldom -that an answer was otherwise than evasive or unsatisfactory. There were -many occasions on which the cabinets of the treaty powers directed -their representatives to make communications, through the imperial -commissioner, to the court of Peking; but only one instance occurred of -any attention being paid to such communications: it was that connected -with our entrance into the city, and the imperial reply was such as -to encourage the viceroy in his perverse and perilous policy. The -impossibility of obtaining personal access to the imperial commissioner -was, in fact, not only a great grievance in itself, but it was the -cause of the non-redress of every other grievance. It is not in the -field of diplomatic controversy that European functionaries can have -any fair chance with those who, preserving all the forms of courtesy, -will deny facts, or invent falsehoods to suit the purposes of the -moment. - -So great had been the disposition of the Chinese authorities to bring -back matters to their position anterior to the treaties of 1812, -that in Foochow Foo, the only other provincial city to which we -had a right of access, and in which a viceregal government exists, -the high authorities had refused all personal intercourse with the -representatives of Great Britain, though the consular offices are -established within the city walls. The superior officers of the great -provincial cities have the right of direct intercourse with the court -of Peking and with the emperor himself,--a right not possessed by any -of the functionaries in the ports of Shanghae, Ningpo, or Amoy, but -confined to those of Canton and Foochow, the one being the capital of -the province of Kwantung, the other of the province of Fookien. The -importance of our being in direct communication with those through -whom alone we can communicate with the ministers, or the sovereign, -at Peking, can hardly be over-estimated. Sir John Bowring visited -Foochow, in 1853, in a ship of war, and after much resistance from -the viceroy, was finally and officially received by him with every -mark of distinction; and the result of that friendly reception was the -amicable and satisfactory arrangement of every question--and there -were many--then pending between British and Chinese subjects in the -Fookien province. It is true that on more than one occasion the viceroy -of Canton offered to receive the British plenipotentiary, not in his -official yamun, but in a “packhouse” belonging to Howqua; and there -were those who held that Sir John Bowring should have been satisfied -with such condescension on the part of the Chinese commissioner. -It should be remembered that in all the treaties with foreigners, -the emperor has engaged that the same attentions shall be shown to -foreign functionaries which can be claimed and are invariably shown -to mandarins of similar rank. It was always a part of the policy of -the Chinese to maintain in the eyes of the people that superiority -of position which national pride and vanity had for ages rendered -habitual; and the recognition of the right of foreign authorities -to be elevated to the same height was one of the most important of -the treaty concessions. But it was a treaty concession, and ought -never to be allowed to become a dead letter. In our relations with -Oriental governments, the only security for the observance of treaty -engagements, is to be found in their rigid, but quiet and determined -enforcement. To be considerate as to what you exact, is the dictate -alike of prudence and of policy; but the attempt to disregard or -violate any formal treaty stipulation should be resisted at its very -earliest demonstration. - -Whatever grounds of complaint the British authorities might have -against the Chinese, nothing was left undone to conciliate the good -opinion of the mandarins. In 1854 an application was made by Yeh to -this effect: he feared a rupture of the public peace, and feeling -himself too weak to protect Canton from the invasion of the rebels, -he asked for the assistance of the naval forces of the treaty powers. -Sir John Bowring accompanied the admiral and the British fleet to the -neighbourhood of that city, and in co-operation with the Americans, -took such effectual measures for its security, that the intended attack -was abandoned, and general tranquillity remained uninterrupted. This -intervention was gratefully acknowledged by the people of Canton; but -there is every reason to believe that the commissioner represented -our amicable intervention as an act of vassalage, and the assistance -rendered as having been in obedience to orders issued by imperial -authority. Notwithstanding this and many other evidences of friendly -sentiment and useful aid on our part, Yeh did not hesitate to represent -to the court that the rebels and Western “barbarians” were acting in -union, and he expressed his conviction that his policy would lead to -the extermination of both. - -No one, in fact, who had attended to the progress of public events, -could be unaware of the insecure position of our relations with the -Chinese. Lord Palmerston said, in 1854:-- - - “So far from our proceedings in China having had a tendency to - disturb the peaceful relations between the British government and the - Chinese empire, and to lead to encroachments upon their territory, we - had, on the contrary, acted with the greatest forbearance. Ever since - the conclusion of the treaty of Nanking the conduct of the Chinese - authorities had been such as would have justified a rupture with - that government. They had violated the engagements into which they - had entered; and if any desire existed on the part of the British - government to proceed against them, abundant cause had existed, - almost since the termination of the last war. They had refused, on - divers pretences, to admit us to parts of Canton to which we ought - to have access, avoided their engagements with respect to the Hongs, - and nullified their stipulations in regard to the Tariff. In point of - fact, there was scarcely a single engagement they had not broken.”[7] - -Wearied with so many evasions, difficulties and delays, the ministers -of the treaty powers, in 1854, determined to approach the capital, in -order to represent to the court the unsatisfactory state of foreign -relations with the imperial commissioner at Canton, and the necessity -of redressing the many grievances of which they had to complain, and -thus putting an end to a policy essentially unfriendly, which could not -but lead to a fatal crisis, and which imperilled alike the interests -of China and of all the nations who came into contact with her. It was -hoped that the strong and united representations of the three ministers -might alarm the emperor, or at all events obtain his serious attention -to the dangers with which he was menaced. The attempt failed.[8] It -could not but fail, through the incredible misrepresentations made -to the Chinese court by the commissioners who were sent down by the -emperor to meet the foreign envoys. As regards the outward forms of -courtesy, the latter had perhaps no special ground of complaint. -Tents were erected for their reception in the neighbourhood of the -Takoo forts; and they were invited to a repast, in which, it may be -worth notice, there was a display of ancient European steel knives -and forks, with handsome porcelain handles, apparently of the age -of Louis XIV. They were met on terms of equality, and the posts of -honour were graciously conceded to them. But the urbane manners of -the mandarins did not mislead the foreign ministers, who left them -with the declaration that they were insuring for their country days of -future sorrow. On the subject of their reports to the court of Peking, -Mr. Reed says: “They illustrate the habitual faithlessness of Chinese -officials.... They were certainly the most painful revelations of the -mendacity and treacherous habits of the high officials of this empire -ever given to the world. They cannot be read without contemptuous -resentment.”[9] - -There was only one possible termination to a state of things so -obviously unsatisfactory, menacing, and untenable. Everything that -could be said or done, in the shape of friendly counsel, had been -exhausted. The American commissioner, Mr. M‘Lane, reports to his -government,[10] that on leaving China, he addressed to Keih,[11] the -governor of Kiangsoo, the following memorable warning:-- - - “Now, as my parting words, I say to you, if something is not done, - our relations will become bad, our amity be disturbed. I believe - that but for the officers of both governments there now might have - been a state of things that might have led to a war; but we have - exerted ourselves to prevent it.” [Governor Keih--“Yes.”] “I have - done well, and on the eve of my departure am most _disinterested_ in - what I say. I do not think it is in the power of either officers of - either government long to preserve the peace. If the emperor does not - listen, and appoint a commissioner to adjust the foreign relations, - so sure as there is a God in the heavens, amity cannot be preserved. - I say it in sincerity, as my parting words.” - -The personal character of Yeh tended greatly to complicate every -international question. He represented the pride, presumption, and -ignorance of a high mandarin, without the restraints which fear of -imperial displeasure generally places upon Chinese functionaries. -He was the instrument, and for some time the successful instrument, -for carrying out the imperial policy as regarded foreign nations. -He had a great reputation for learning, had won the most eminent -literary grades, was a distinguished member of the highest college -(the Hanlin), and the guardian of the heir apparent--indeed, on -one occasion he called himself the fourth personage of the empire. -Moreover, his despatches were much admired for their perspicuity and -purity of language. He was strangely unacquainted with the geography, -institutions, and policy of remote nations, and even made his ignorance -a ground for self-congratulation. When questions of commercial interest -were brought before him, he treated them as altogether below his -notice, and on one occasion abruptly terminated a conversation by -saying, “You speak to me as if I were a merchant, and not a mandarin.” -He devoted himself to the study of necromancy, and relied on his -“fortunate star;” believing that the city of Canton was impregnable, he -made no serious arrangements for its defence. - -What Ke-ying preached, Yeh-ming practised; but Ke was a man of a -gentle, Yeh of a ferocious nature; and the cautious cunning which often -marked the course of the one was wholly wanting to the other. Yeh, -armed as he was with powers of life and death, exercised them with a -recklessness of which there is no equal example in history. He turned -the execution-ground at Canton into a huge lake of blood; hundreds of -rebels were beheaded daily. When he was asked whether he had really -caused seventy thousand men to be decapitated, he boastingly replied -that the number exceeded a hundred thousand; and to an inquiry whether -he had inflicted upon women the horrible punishment called the cutting -into ten thousand pieces, he answered, “Ay! they were worse than the -men.”[12] - -It was the affair of the _Arrow_ which brought about the inevitable -crisis. The question of Sir John Bowring’s action on that occasion was -entangled with the party politics of the day, and little more need now -be said than that the verdict of the country reversed the condemnatory -decision of the House of Commons. Certain it is that the very build -of a _lorcha_, so altogether unlike any Chinese junk in its external -appearance, ought to have led the local authorities in Canton to be -very cautious in their interference with her crew; and that the fact -of her papers being in the hands of the British consul, and not of the -Chinese custom-house, was _primâ facie_ evidence of her nationality. -Since the brutal character of ex-Commissioner Yeh has been better -understood, even those most forward to censure Sir John Bowring, for -refusing to deliver over to that savage and sanguinary personage men -who at all events believed themselves to be entitled to the protection -of British authority,[13] cannot but have felt that they ought to -have been more indulgent to his hesitation. That he carried with -him the sympathy of the representatives of the treaty powers,--that -Yeh’s policy was condemned by his colleagues and by the people in -general,[14]--and that Yeh himself was finally degraded and disgraced -by his own sovereign for his proceedings, are matters of historical -record. Yeh, there is little doubt, would have been publicly executed, -had he returned to China, notwithstanding the efforts of his father, -who betook himself to Peking with a very large sum of money, hoping to -be able--but failing--to propitiate the court.[15] - -The war was carried on by the Chinese according to their usual mode -of dealing with foreign nations.[16] They had no chance of success in -open combat, so they had recourse to the ordinary stratagems adopted by -uncivilized races. An “anti-barbarian committee” was formed among them, -under the auspices of the mandarins. They offered premiums from 100 up -to 100,000 ounces of silver for assassinations of “the barbarians,” -according to the gradation of rank, and similar graduated rewards for -the capture of vessels, for acts of incendiarism, for denouncing those -who sent provisions to Hong Kong. Intercourse was prohibited under pain -of death; and provision was promised to be made for the families of -those who might perish in any desperate enterprise against the “foreign -devils.” But so well was the government of Hong Kong served, that only -one of many attempts to injure the colony had any success. In this, -however, 360 persons of all nations were poisoned; but, happily, from -the excess of arsenic employed, which led to an immediate perception -of the danger, very few lost their lives. No less than 25,000 of the -inhabitants fled to the mainland in consequence of the menaces of -the mandarins; yet, though there were not 400 effective men in the -garrison, such was the efficiency of the naval department, so active -the police, and so well-disposed the mass of the Chinese population, -that scarcely any damage was inflicted on the colony. - -Canton was taken on the 29th of December. The resistance was -ridiculous.[17] The walls were scaled by a handful of men, and Yeh, -who had concealed himself, was captured. Why British authority, which -would have been welcomed by the respectable part of the population, -was not established under military law, and the whole administration -of the public revenues taken into our hands, it is very difficult to -explain. But at the meeting in which the English and French ambassadors -informed the high Chinese authorities that the city had been captured -and was held by the allied forces, both the governor of Kwang-tung and -the Tartar general were allowed to be seated on the same elevation with -the foreign ambassadors, and above the positions occupied by the naval -and military commanders-in-chief who were left in charge of the city. -Subordinate to these, an hermaphrodite government was created, called -“the Allied Commissioners,” who were to be consulted on all occasions -by the mandarins charged to carry on the administration of public -affairs. - -A grand opportunity was thus lost of exhibiting to the Cantonese the -benefits of a just and honest, however severe, administration: they -could not but have been struck with the difference between the humane -and equitable laws of foreigners, as contrasted with the corrupt and -cruel dealings of the mandarins. The _Elgin Papers_ throw little light -upon the atrocities which were perpetrated by the Chinese, long after -our possession of the city. The prisons continued to be scenes of -horrible tortures. It was thought necessary to destroy whole streets, -in order to convey terror into districts where assassinations of the -subjects of allied powers had taken place: all the eastern suburb of -the city was razed to the ground, and not a respectable inhabitant -was left amidst the desolation. There can be no doubt that Governor -Pehkwei considered himself invested with supreme authority over Chinese -subjects. He complains bitterly, in a despatch to Lord Elgin, of 31st -January, 1858, of Consul Parkes’ interference--of his “overbearing” and -unreasonably oppressive “conduct in disposing of Chinamen confined in -the gaols of Canton. I ask, whether Chinese officers would be tolerated -in their interference with British subjects confined in British gaols?” -Lord Elgin does not, in his reply, assert British jurisdiction over -the prisons in Canton; but says, Pehkwei will be required to release -all prisoners entitled to the benefits of the amnesty; and in another -despatch (p. 178), distinctly throws upon Pehkwei the responsibility of -preserving the public peace. This anomalous state of matters awakened -the attention of our Government at home: a despatch of Lord Malmesbury -(14th June, 1858), says: “It will be a disgrace to the allied powers -if they do not prevent such enormities as are practised in the prisons -of Canton.” ... The “British name must be relieved from the disgrace -and guilt of having connived at a state of things so monstrous and -revolting.” As to the mixed authority of native mandarins and allied -commissioners, Lord Malmesbury says: “It is wholly inefficient for -all objects of administration and policy, and should be replaced by -a military government acting under the rules of martial law.” He -recommended that the allies should take possession of the custom-house -revenues, and hold the balance after the payment of the local expenses. -It is much to be regretted that these measures were not adopted. -Undoubtedly, Lord Elgin exercised a sound discretion in not proceeding -to Peking until “a lesson” had been given to Yeh’s obstinacy. Had he -gone to the North it would have been deemed a confession that he had -been foiled in the South, and compelled to appeal to the emperor, in -order to relieve himself from the difficulties in which Yeh had placed -him; for Yeh--who had chosen to represent the English “barbarians” as -making common cause with the rebels, and in fact, being themselves in -a state of rebellion against imperial authority--gave the court the -assurance that, as he had been so successful in breaking up the native -insurrection, so he would not fail “to drive the foreign ‘barbarians’ -into the sea.” In short, there could be little doubt, that had his -calculations proved correct, a hostile policy would have pursued us in -all the other parts of China, and our immense interests there have been -placed in jeopardy. - -For some time the court ventured to dream that by Yeh’s indomitable -bravery China might be wholly rid of the presence of the intrusive -strangers.[18] It is known that the emperor was much displeased -with a mandarin, who, having lived in Canton, and being acquainted -with the power of the English, ventured to express doubts as to the -trustworthiness of Yeh’s representations that he could bridle and -extirpate the English barbarians;[19] and nothing less than the taking -the Takoo forts by the allied forces, and an advance upon the capital -(even after Yeh’s capture and humiliation) was likely to bring the -court of Peking to a sense of its own weakness, and the necessity of -listening to our representations and remonstrances. - -Every effort had been made to obstruct the progress of the allied -ambassadors towards Peking; but they wisely determined not to delay -their voyage to the Gulf of Pecheli, and, on the 24th April, they -announced to the Chinese prime minister their arrival, at the mouth -of the Tien-tsin river. The usual evasions were brought into play; -and it was soon discovered that the commissioners sent down had no -sufficient powers. On the 18th May, therefore, after consultation with -the admirals, it was determined to “take the forts,” and to “proceed -pacifically up the river;” on the 19th, notice was given to the -Chinese, and on the 20th, the forts were in the hands of the Allies. -On the 29th, the ambassadors reached Tien-tsin. On the same day they -were advised that “the chief secretary of state,” and the president of -one of the imperial boards, were ordered to proceed without delay “to -investigate and despatch business.” After many discussions the Treaty -was signed on the 26th June. - -The progress and the result of these negotiations only demonstrate -that where our policy has failed, and where it will always fail in -China, is in placing confidence in the Chinese. Our distrust must -be the groundwork: it is the only sound foundation of our security. -When the four ambassadors were at Tien-tsin, and had extorted from -the fears of the Chinese treaties more or less humiliating to Chinese -pride, according to the amount of pressure employed, it should have -been foreseen that on the removal of that pressure the Chinese mind -would resume its natural obstinacy. A treaty with China will always -be waste paper, unless some security is obtained for giving it due -effect. It is, therefore, greatly to be regretted that the ambassadors -should have left the most difficult of questions, one most wounding to -Chinese pride--the reception of foreign ministers at Peking, and the -initiation of their constant residence at court--to be settled by their -successors, who had neither the same high diplomatic position, nor the -same large naval and military forces at their disposal. It may, indeed, -be a question whether it was desirable to force upon the Chinese the -recognition of our right to have an ambassador permanently fixed at -the capital; but if we thought fit to insist on such recognition, -there should certainly have been no vacillation--no disposition shown -to surrender in any shape or on any terms the right which had been -conceded. We could not plead want of experience, for we had abundant -evidence of the determination of the Chinese to repudiate and deny -every concession, the enjoyment of which was either rediscussed or -deferred. We should have avoided, above all things, the transfer of the -Canton question to Peking. Our right to enter Canton was incontestable. -Shufflings and subterfuges on the part of the Chinese, hesitation and -an erroneous estimate of the importance of the question on the part of -the British Government and the British functionaries in China, led to -one delay after another, and ended by an absolute denial of our treaty -right, and an arming of the Chinese population to enforce that denial, -accompanied at the same time by a Chinese proclamation mendaciously -averring that we had withdrawn our claims. A similar course has been -pursued at Peking. The Chinese, who have no notion--what Oriental -has?--of privileges possessed and not exercised, saw in the willingness -to give way to their representations, not, as we might have supposed, -a consideration for their repugnancy, and a magnanimity in refraining -from the enjoyment of a privilege distasteful to them, but an -infirmity of purpose--a confession that we had asked for something -we did not want, and which they felt to be a degradation needlessly -and gratuitously imposed upon them. There is, in fact, neither safety -nor dignity in any course but the stern, steady persistence in the -assertion and enforcement of whatever conditions are the subject of -imperial engagements. - -Lord Elgin returned to England, and Mr. Bruce was appointed his -successor. It was at first announced that he had been furnished with -ambassadorial powers, but as such powers would have entitled him to -demand a personal reception by the emperor, it was, on reconsideration, -very judiciously thought better to avoid a question which might lead to -great embarrassments, and he was accredited as Minister Plenipotentiary -to the Peking court. To our judgment it appears the instructions of -Lord Malmesbury were too peremptory as to the course Mr. Bruce was -to pursue; and if that course was to be insisted on, most inadequate -means were provided.[20] It is but another example of those in the -distance imagining they see more clearly than those who are near, -and assuming an acquaintance with local circumstances--subject every -hour to change--which, without the attributes of omnipresence and -omniscience, it is impossible they should possess. Whatever may have -been the views of the Cabinet at home, it is obvious that the forces -which accompanied Mr. Bruce were as superfluous for peace as they -were insufficient for war, and that he was placed in the embarrassing -dilemma either of disobeying his orders, or of incurring great risk -in the attempt to execute them. That the Admiral singularly overrated -his own force, and under-estimated that of the Chinese, admits now of -no controversy. But an indulgent judgment should be awarded to one so -personally brave and self-sacrificing, and who was entitled to confide -in the indomitable bravery of those he commanded; whose experience, -too, of the general character of Chinese warfare was not likely to -teach them prudence or caution. - -The first and the most natural inquiry is, what is likely to be -the result of these disastrous events? If negotiations are wisely -conducted, the probability is that the emperor will throw the blame -on the local authorities, attribute to the misrepresentations which -have been made any approval he may have given to those who attacked -the Allies, and repudiate any intended complicity in the mismanagement -of foreign relations. For it has hitherto been the invariable policy -of the Chinese government to localize every quarrel, and to avoid any -general war. There is no scruple about sacrificing any mandarin whose -proceedings, though lauded and recompensed at first, have in the sequel -proved injudicious or injurious. - -We cannot look forward, however, without apprehension--apprehension -not from the possible defeat of our arms--they will be too strong, too -efficient for defeat by any Chinese forces--but from their successful -advance and overthrow of all resistance. Nothing can arrest their -course to Peking, nor prevent the capture of that vast capital; but -its possession may prove our great embarrassment. If the emperor, -accompanied by his court, should retreat into Manchuria--if Peking be -deserted, as Canton was, by all that is respectable and opulent--the -Allies may find themselves amidst vacant streets, abandoned houses, -a wandering, a starving population, too poor to migrate with their -betters. Winter will come--the cruel, bitter winter of northern China; -the rivers will be frozen, communications cut off; and with no war-ship -in the Gulf of Pecheli, supplies must be inaccessible. Peking may even -prove another Moscow to its conquerors. - -The condition of the French and Spanish expedition in Cochin China is -full of present instruction. They are acting against a miserable and -despised enemy. They have been for more than a year in possession of -Turon, the principal harbour of the country; but they have not ventured -to attack the adjacent capital. Disease has thinned their ranks; -victories have brought no results, but ever new disappointment: every -calculation of success having been thwarted by a patient but stubborn -“no surrender.” It is a resistance that cannot be reached by strength -of arms, nor dealt with by the cunning of diplomacy. May it serve as a -warning in that wider field upon which we are entering in China! - -How is the social edifice to be constructed out of crumbling ruins? To -overthrow the existing dynasty of China may be easy enough; indeed, -the difficulty, as with that of Turkey, is its maintenance and -preservation: its very feebleness cries to us for pity and mercy. -It may yet totter on for generations, if not harshly shaken; but if -it--fall--fall amidst its wrecked institutions--China, inviting as -it is to foreign ambition and the lust of conquest, may become the -battle-field of contending interests. Russia, moving steadily and -stealthily forward in its march of territorial aggression; France, -charged with what she fancies herself specially called upon to -represent--the missionary propagand, with the Catholic world behind -her; England, with those vast concerns which involve about one-ninth -of the imperial and Indian revenues, and an invested capital exceeding -forty millions sterling; and the United States, whose commerce may -be deemed about one-third of that of Great Britain, to say nothing -of Holland and Spain, who are not a little concerned, through their -eastern colonies, in the well-being of China;--will then be engaged in -a struggle for power, if not territory, the result of which cannot be -anticipated; indeed we scarcely venture to contemplate such portentous -complications. - -No thoughtful man will deny the necessity of teaching the Chinese -that treaties must be respected, and perfidy punished. Duty and -interest alike require this at our hands; but this is but one of many -duties--one of many interests; and we would most emphatically say, -_Respice finem_--look beyond--look to the end. The destruction of -hundreds of thousands of Chinese, the ravaging of their great cities, -may fail to accomplish the object we have in view. They have been but -too much accustomed to such calamities, and their influences soon pass -away from a nation so reckless of life. But it may be possible to exact -penalties in a shape which will be more sensible to them, and more -beneficial to us: for example, the administration of their custom-house -revenues in Shanghae and Canton, and the payment out of these of all -the expenses of the war. - -But is there nothing to hope from the Taiping movement? Nothing. It has -become little better than dacoity: its progress has been everywhere -marked by wreck and ruin; it destroys cities, but builds none; consumes -wealth, and produces none; supersedes one despotism by another more -crushing and grievous; subverts a rude religion by the introduction -of another full of the vilest frauds and the boldest blasphemies. It -has cast off none of the proud, insolent, and ignorant formulas of -imperial rule; but, claiming to be a divine revelation, exacts the same -homage and demands the same tribute from Western nations, to which the -government of Peking pretended in the days of its highest and most -widely recognized authority. - -We cannot afford to overthrow the government of China. Bad as it is, -anarchy will track its downfall, and the few elements of order which -yet remain will be whelmed in a convulsive desolation. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] Peiho, in Chinese, means a north or northern river, but no river -in particular. No Chinaman applies the word to the locality which now -bears the name on our charts. In Bristol, the Mersey would be deemed -entitled to the name of the Peiho; in London, the Humber, the Tyne, or -the Tweed. - -[2] The matchlock is still used in China, where even the flint has -not been introduced. The late emperor, Taou-Kwang, had heard of -“improvements in musketry,” and specimens of “percussion locks” were -sent to Peking, but they were rejected; and the military examinations -to this hour consist of feats of individual strength, the exercise of -the bow and arrow, the spear and the shield. In the use of artillery -there have been some improvements. The Chinese have purchased cannon -for their fortifications and war-junks, both in Hong Kong and Macao, -and of late from the Russians, for their forts of Takoo. - -[3] The emperor’s words are: “This was the only proper arrangement to -be made (for the settlement of the treaties). We understand the whole -question.” In 1854, when the foreign Ministers visited Tien-tsin, -the imperial orders were conveyed to the mandarins in the following -words:--“At your interview, you must snap short their deceit and -arrogance, and foil their malicious sophistry.” Another imperial decree -says:--“The barbarians study nothing but gain. Their hurrying backwards -and forwards only means [more] trade and [lower] tariffs. When a trifle -is granted on this score they naturally acquiesce and hold their -tongues.” - -[4] Nothing is less intelligible to a high-bred mandarin than the -desire of foreign females to be introduced to him. At Hong Kong, when -English ladies were brought to see the ex-commissioner Yeh, he turned -away, and refused to look at them, and on their departure, expressed -his annoyance and disgust. He was invited at Calcutta to a ball given -by the Governor of Bengal. Inquiring what was meant, he was told by -his Chinese secretary, that a ball was a sport in which “men turned -themselves round, holding the waists and turning round the wives of -other men;” on which, he asked whether the invitation was meant for -an insult? There was an amusing scene at Canton, when Chinese ladies -were for the first time introduced to some of our British fair. The -Chinese kept for some minutes tremblingly in the distance, afraid to -approach, when one was heard to say to another, “They do not look so -_very_ barbarous, after all;” and they moved a little forward to meet -their guests; another whisper was heard, “Surely they have learnt how -to behave themselves. Is it not wonderful?” and a third voice replied, -“Yes! but you know they have been for some time in Canton!” - -[5] _Elgin Papers_, p. 175. - -[6] In the French treaty the discrepancies between the French and -Chinese text are yet more striking. The Chinese text places Chinese -subjects claimed by the authorities under conditions far less -favourable than those provided by the French version. - -[7] _Debate_, July. - -[8] In the _Elgin Papers_ many pages are occupied with the details of -the correspondence between the commissioners who came to the mouth of -the Tien-tsin river and the court of Peking, and which were found in -Yeh’s archives at Canton. - -[9] Speech at Philadelphia, quoted in _North American Review_, No. -CLXXXV. p. 503. - -[10] _American Papers_, p. 417: _Despatch_ dated 27th November, 1857. - -[11] Keih was one of the most intelligent and honest of the high -mandarins of China. He was killed in an action with the rebels soon -after his last interview with the foreign ministers. He openly blamed -the perversity of Yeh, whom he hoped to succeed in the office of high -commissioner. Had his life been spared, and his counsels prevailed, he -would have initiated a policy of conciliation and amity. - -[12] We give one of Yeh’s characteristic proclamations, issued during -the siege of Canton:-- - -“Yeh, governor-general of the two Kwang provinces, member of the -cabinet, and baron of the empire, hereby proclaims for the general -information:-- - -“These are the contumacious English barbarians, who are akin to dogs -and hogs, and like wolves and jackals in disposition, who make no -distinction in the human relations, and are destitute of propriety -or manners * * * * * who act as they list, have the tempers of wild -beasts, and go here and there in wild recklessness, regardless of human -rights or order. - -“These are they who have presumed, like flocks of ravens issuing -from out their coverts, to cast contemptuous looks on celestial -awe-inspiring dignity, and seeing that our troops were unprepared, -suddenly have taken possession of our forts, and following the bent of -their lawless wickedness have burned the shops and dwellings of our -people. Gods and men are indignant, heaven and earth can no longer -endure them, and well will it be for your people if you unite in -particular, and with vigorous arm exterminate them altogether. Let -soldiers and gentry exhibit their loyalty, and with the braves, known -to be in every place, swear, as they exhibit a force and union like the -driving tempest, that they will revenge the honour of their country. -Let full obedience be given to his majesty’s rescript, and with firm -purpose and stout arm sweep them off without remainder, burning their -lairs, and exterminating their whole kith and kin. - -“Then the memorial of your merit will be seen in the palace, while the -state stands secure in the greatness of its people, as in the golden -days of Shun, and the elements genially combine to produce plenty, -through the good rule universal in the land, as was seen in the halcyon -days of Tsin. - -“The other nations of the West must all reverently obey our heavenly -dynasty, according to their laws and their administrators, for they -will be amerced in the same crimes (as the English) if they venture to -copy their conduct. - -“Those native traitors who are serving these several tribes, by aiding -their purposes, must be strictly watched after and judged, the worst -of them by the extermination of their kindred, the lesser by the -destruction of their own families. - -“Those who are employed as servants to any of the foreigners are -allowed twenty days to return to their own patrimonies, there to pursue -their several occupations. If they linger along in the hope of gain, -they will be treated and punished as traitors. - -“Each one must tremblingly obey these orders without opposition.” - -[13] The words of the treaty are: “If it shall be ascertained or -suspected that lawless natives of China, having committed crimes or -offences against their own government, have fled, a communication shall -be made to the proper English officer, in order that the said criminals -and offenders may be rigidly searched for, seized, and, on proof or -admission of their guilt, delivered up” to the Chinese authorities. - -[14] A thoroughly well-informed American gentleman, then on the spot, -declares that the Cantonese prayed that some English ball might “make -hit the Viceroy; he all same devil,” they said. “Yeh had no supporters -among his own countrymen, except his immediate followers, natives of -other provinces, and having no local interest. He ruled simply by -terror, and all would have been glad to have seen him destroyed.”--_A -Foreigner’s Evidence on the China Question_, p. 14. - -[15] Yeh died in Calcutta. So great was the quantity of gas emitted -by his body after death, that the leaden coffin burst twice. On its -arrival at Canton the Chinese would not allow the body to be brought -into the city. - -[16] The following is the protest of the United States Commissioner, -addressed to High Commissioner Yeh:-- - - “_Legation of the U.S., Macao, Jan. 16, 1857._ - -“The undersigned Commissioner and Minister Plenipotentiary of the -United States of America in China is again compelled to address your -Excellency, demonstrating and protesting against the violation of -our treaty of amity, the laws of civilized nations, and the rules of -justifiable war. - -“The United States Consul, who arrived from Hong Kong last evening, -has appeared before the undersigned in person, and represented that -a most diabolical deed has been perpetrated by Chinese subjects, who -had administered poison in the bread supplied to the public in that -colony and on board vessels in the harbour, to multitudes of men, -women, and children, without distinction of nation; that he himself -had partaken of the poison, from which he is still suffering, and that -other citizens of the United States are rendered dangerously ill by the -poisoned bread. - -“The undersigned, as in duty bound, solemnly protests against this -unjustifiable mode of warfare. ‘The use of poison as a means of war -is prohibited by the unanimous concurrence of all the public jurists -of the present age. The custom of civilized nations has exempted the -persons of the sovereign and his family, the members of the civil -government, women and children, cultivators of the earth, artisans, -labourers, merchants, men of science and letters, and generally all -other public or private individuals engaged in the ordinary civil -pursuits of life, from the effects of military operations, unless -actually taken in arms, or guilty of some misconduct in violation of -the usages of war, by which they forfeit this immunity.’ Now, by the -manner in which the poison has been administered in Hong Kong, not -only the innocent women and children, and all artisans, labourers, -merchants, and men of science, belonging to the English nation, had -their lives exposed, but the citizens and subjects of other nations -who are on friendly relations with China. Americans, French, Russians, -Portuguese, and Spaniards have all received the deadly poison; and that -some may yet die, remains to be known. - -“The undersigned, therefore, on behalf of the Government of the United -States, on the part of humanity, and (reverently) in the name of God, -protests against this most barbarous deed; and as on former occasions -when protesting against the offering of pecuniary rewards to perfidy -and assassination of foreigners, must hold the imperial government of -China responsible for all the consequences, both to individual and -national interests. - - “His Excellency Yeh.” “PETER PARKER.” - -[17] One man appeared during the Canton conflict who is entitled to -be mentioned with respect and honour--Wang, the Chinese admiral. He -was well acquainted with the power of the British; and on one occasion -had given evidence of great coolness and courage when accompanying -H.M.S. _Columbine_ on an expedition against the pirates. He did his -best to persuade Yeh from engaging in a quarrel which could not but be -disastrous to the Chinese, but he failed, as everybody failed. “You -may as well reason with a stone,” was the language of a deputation -that sought the British officials. Wang received peremptory orders -from Yeh to attack and destroy the British fleet in the Canton river. -He answered that it was impossible: that an encounter must be fatal to -the imperial war junks. The orders were renewed; and he said he would -do his best--as he did in the affair at Fashan, when considerable -damage was done to our boats, and many of our men lost their lives. -Wang’s junk was captured; and the imperial warrant, on yellow silk, -was found, recording a series of adventurous and valorous deeds; but -Wang was ordered to be decapitated by Yeh, because he had not beaten -the British. He fled, and was concealed for some time in a village -on the banks of the river. He applied to the Governor of Hong Kong, -asking to be allowed an asylum there, which was cordially offered; but -severe illness prevented his removal. Yeh afterwards repented of his -precipitation; recalled Wang to the public service; who stipulated that -he should not be employed against Western nations. - -[18] The influence of Yeh at Peking was considerably strengthened -by the support he received from Iliang, who obtained the credit of -persuading the United States Commissioner, Mr. Marshall, not to proceed -to the capital. Iliang, in one of his despatches to the emperor, says: -“Whatever the barbarian chief may insinuate against Yeh-ming-chen, it -is he whom they fear.”--_Elgin Papers_, p. 280. - -[19] When in the former war Commissioner Keshen humbly represented to -the emperor Taou-Kwang, that it was impossible to resist the English, -he was ordered to be executed for his mendacity. His life was saved by -powerful friends at court. - -[20] “Her Majesty’s Government are prepared to expect that all the -arts at which the Chinese are such adepts will be put in practice to -dissuade you from repairing to the capital, even for the purpose of -exchanging the ratifications of the treaty, but it will be your duty -firmly, but temperately, to resist any propositions to that effect, and -_to admit of no excuses_. - -“The Admiral in command of H.M.’s naval forces in China, has been -directed to send up with you to the mouth of the Peiho a sufficient -naval force. - -“_You will insist_ on your being received at Peking, and will refuse -to exchange ratifications at any other place.”--_Despatch of Lord -Malmesbury, 1st March, 1859._ - - - - - Lovel the Widower. - - - CHAPTER I. - - THE BACHELOR OF BEAK STREET. - -[Illustration] - -Who shall be the hero of this tale? Not I who write it. I am but the -Chorus of the Play. I make remarks on the conduct of the characters: I -narrate their simple story. There is love and marriage in it: there is -grief and disappointment: the scene is in the parlour, and the region -beneath the parlour. No: it may be the parlour and kitchen, in this -instance, are on the same level. There is no high life, unless, to be -sure, you call a baronet’s widow a lady in high life; and some ladies -may be, while some certainly are not. I don’t think there’s a villain -in the whole performance. There is an abominable selfish old woman, -certainly: an old highway robber; an old sponger on other people’s -kindness; an old haunter of Bath and Cheltenham boarding-houses (about -which how can I know anything, never having been in a boarding-house at -Bath or Cheltenham in my life?); an old swindler of tradesmen, tyrant -of servants, bully of the poor--who, to be sure, might do duty for a -villain, but she considers herself as virtuous a woman as ever was -born. The heroine is not faultless (ah! that will be a great relief -to some folks, for many writers’ good women are, you know, so _very_ -insipid). The principal personage you may very likely think to be no -better than a muff. But is many a respectable man of our acquaintance -much better? and do muffs know that they are what they are, or, knowing -it, are they unhappy? Do girls decline to marry one if he is rich? Do -we refuse to dine with one? I listened to one at Church last Sunday, -with all the women crying and sobbing; and, oh, dear me! how finely -he preached! Don’t we give him great credit for wisdom and eloquence -in the House of Commons? Don’t we give him important commands in the -army? Can you, or can you not, point out one who has been made a -peer? Doesn’t your wife call one in the moment any of the children -are ill? Don’t we read his dear poems, or even novels? Yes; perhaps -even this one is read and written by--Well? _Quid rides?_ Do you mean -that I am painting a portrait which hangs before me every morning in -the looking-glass when I am shaving? _Après?_ Do you suppose that I -suppose that I have not infirmities like my neighbours? Am I weak? It -is notorious to all my friends there is a certain dish I can’t resist; -no, not if I have already eaten twice too much at dinner. So, dear -sir, or madam, have _you_ your weakness--_your_ irresistible dish -of temptation? (or if you don’t know it, your friends do). No, dear -friend, the chances are that you and I are not people of the highest -intellect, of the largest fortune, of the most ancient family, of -the most consummate virtue, of the most faultless beauty in face and -figure. We are no heroes nor angels; neither are we fiends from abodes -unmentionable, black assassins, treacherous Iagos, familiar with -stabbing and poison--murder our amusement, daggers our playthings, -arsenic our daily bread, lies our conversation, and forgery our common -handwriting. No, we are not monsters of crime, or angels walking the -earth--at least I know _one_ of us who isn’t, as can be shown any day -at home if the knife won’t cut or the mutton comes up raw. But we are -not altogether brutal and unkind, and a few folks like us. Our poetry -is not as good as Alfred Tennyson’s, but we can turn a couplet for -Miss Fanny’s album: our jokes are not always first-rate, but Mary -and her mother smile very kindly when papa tells his story or makes -his pun. We have many weaknesses, but we are not ruffians of crime. -No more was my friend Lovel. On the contrary, he was as harmless and -kindly a fellow as ever lived when I first knew him. At present, with -his changed position, he is, perhaps, rather _fine_ (and certainly I -am not asked to his _best_ dinner-parties as I used to be, where you -hardly see a commoner--but stay! I am advancing matters). At the time -when this story begins, I say, Lovel had his faults--which of us has -not? He had buried his wife, having notoriously been henpecked by her. -How many men and brethren are like him! He had a good fortune--I wish -I had as much--though I daresay many people are ten times as rich. He -was a good-looking fellow enough; though that depends, ladies, upon -whether you like a fair man or a dark one. He had a country house, but -it was only at Putney. In fact, he was in business in the city, and -being a hospitable man, and having three or four spare bed-rooms, some -of his friends were always welcome at Shrublands, especially after Mrs. -Lovel’s death, who liked me pretty well at the period of her early -marriage with my friend, but got to dislike me at last and to show me -the cold shoulder. That is a joint I never could like (though I have -known fellows who persist in dining off it year after year, who cling -hold of it, and refuse to be separated from it). I say, when Lovel’s -wife began to show me that she was tired of my company, I made myself -scarce: used to pretend to be engaged when Fred faintly asked me to -Shrublands; to accept his meek apologies, proposals to dine _en garçon_ -at Greenwich, the club, and so forth; and never visit upon him my -wrath at his wife’s indifference--for after all, he had been my friend -at many a pinch: he never stinted at Hart’s or Lovegrove’s, and always -made a point of having the wine I liked, never mind what the price -was. As for his wife, there was, assuredly, no love lost between us--I -thought her a lean, scraggy, lackadaisical, egotistical, consequential, -insipid creature: and as for his mother-in-law, who stayed at Fred’s -as long and as often as her daughter would endure her, has anyone who -ever knew that notorious old Lady Baker at Bath, at Cheltenham, at -Brighton,--wherever trumps and frumps were found together; wherever -scandal was cackled; wherever fly-blown reputations were assembled, and -dowagers with damaged titles trod over each other for the pas;--who, I -say, ever had a good word for that old woman? What party was not bored -where she appeared? What tradesman was not done with whom she dealt? -I wish with all my heart I was about to narrate a story with a good -mother-in-law for a character; but then you know, my dear madam, all -good women in novels are insipid. This woman certainly was not. She was -not only not insipid, but exceedingly bad tasted. She had a foul, loud -tongue, a stupid head, a bad temper, an immense pride and arrogance, -an extravagant son, and very little money. Can I say much more of a -woman than this? Aha! my good Lady Baker! I was a _mauvais sujèt_, -was I?--I was leading Fred into smoking, drinking, and low bachelor -habits, was I? I, his old friend, who have borrowed money from him any -time these twenty years, was not fit company for you and your precious -daughter? Indeed! _I_ paid the money I borrowed from him like a man; -but did _you_ ever pay him, I should like to know? When Mrs. Lovel was -in the first column of _The Times_, _then_ Fred and I used to go off to -Greenwich and Blackwall, as I said; then his kind old heart was allowed -to feel for his friend; _then_ we could have the other bottle of -claret without the appearance of Bedford and the coffee, which in Mrs. -L.’s time used to be sent in to us before we could ring for a second -bottle, although she and Lady Baker had had three glasses each out of -the first. Three full glasses each, I give you my word! No, madam, it -was your turn to bully me once--now it is mine, and I use it. No, you -old Catamaran, though you pretend you never read novels, some of your -confounded good-natured friends will let you know of _this_ one. Here -you are, do you hear? Here you shall be shown up. And so I intend to -show up _other_ women and _other_ men who have offended me. Is one to -be subject to slights and scorn, and not have revenge? Kindnesses are -easily forgotten; but injuries!--what worthy man does not keep _those_ -in mind? - -[Illustration: I AM REFERRED TO CECILIA.] - -Before entering upon the present narrative, may I take leave to -inform a candid public, that though it is all true, there is not a -word of truth in it; that though Lovel is alive and prosperous, and -you very likely have met him, yet I defy you to point him out; that -his wife (for he is Lovel the Widower no more) is not the lady you -imagine her to be, when you say (as you will persist in doing), “Oh, -that character is intended for Mrs. Thingamy, or was notoriously -drawn from Lady So-and-so.” No. You are utterly mistaken. Why, even -the advertising-puffers have almost given up that stale stratagem of -announcing “REVELATIONS FROM HIGH LIFE.--The _beau monde_ will be -startled at recognizing the portraits of some of its brilliant leaders -in Miss Wiggins’s forthcoming _Roman de Société_.” Or, “We suspect a -certain ducal house will be puzzled to guess how the pitiless author -of _May Fair Mysteries_ has become acquainted with (and exposed with -a fearless hand) _certain family secrets_ which were thought only to -be known to a few of the very highest members of the aristocracy.” No, -I say; these silly baits to catch an unsuspecting public shall not be -our arts. If you choose to occupy yourself with trying to ascertain if -a certain cap fits one amongst ever so many thousand heads, you _may_ -possibly pop it on the right one: but the cap-maker will perish before -he tells you; unless, of course, he has some private pique to avenge, -or malice to wreak, upon some individual who can’t by any possibility -hit again;--_then_, indeed, he will come boldly forward and seize upon -his victim--(a bishop, say, or a woman without coarse, quarrelsome -male relatives, will be best)--and clap on him, or her, such a cap, -with such ears, that all the world shall laugh at the poor wretch, -shuddering, and blushing beet-root red, and whimpering deserved tears -of rage and vexation at being made the common butt of society. Besides, -I dine at Lovel’s still; his company and cuisine are amongst the best -in London. If they suspected I was taking them off, he and his wife -would leave off inviting me. Would any man of a generous disposition -lose such a valued friend for a joke, or be so foolish as to show him -up in a story? All persons with a decent knowledge of the world will at -once banish the thought, as not merely base, but absurd. I am invited -to his house one day next week: _vous concevez_ I can’t mention the -very day, for then he would find me out--and of course there would -be no more cards for his old friend. He would not like appearing, as -it must be owned he does in this memoir, as a man of not very strong -mind. He believes himself to be a most determined, resolute person. -He is quick in speech, wears a fierce beard, speaks with asperity to -his servants (who liken him to a--to that before-named sable or ermine -contrivance, in which ladies insert their hands in winter), and takes -his wife to task so smartly, that I believe she believes he believes -he is the master of the house. “Elizabeth, my love, he must mean A, -or B, or D,” I fancy I hear Lovel say; and she says, “Yes; oh! it is -certainly D--his very image!” “D to a T,” says Lovel (who is a neat -wit). _She_ may know that I mean to depict her husband in the above -unpretending lines: but she will never let me know of her knowledge -except by a little extra courtesy; except (may I make this pleasing -exception?) by a few more invitations; except by a look of those -unfathomable eyes (gracious goodness! to think she wore spectacles ever -so long, and put a lid over them as it were!), into which, when you -gaze sometimes, you may gaze so deep, and deep, and deep, that I defy -you to plumb half-way down into their mystery. - -When I was a young man, I had lodgings in Beak Street, Regent Street -(I no more have lived in Beak Street than in Belgrave Square: but I -choose to say so, and no gentleman will be so rude as to contradict -another)--I had lodgings, I say, in Beak Street, Regent Street. Mrs. -Prior was the landlady’s name. She had seen better days--landladies -frequently have. Her husband--he could not be called the landlord, -for Mrs. P. was manager of the place,--had been, in happier times, -captain or lieutenant in the militia; then of Diss, in Norfolk, of -no profession; then of Norwich Castle, a prisoner for debt; then of -Southampton Buildings, London, law-writer; then of the Bom-Retiro -Cacadores, in the service of H. M. the Queen of Portugal, lieutenant -and paymaster; then of Melina Place, St. George’s Fields, &c.--I -forbear to give the particulars of an existence which a legal -biographer has traced step by step, and which has more than once been -the subject of judicial investigation by certain commissioners in -Lincoln’s-inn Fields. Well, Prior, at this time, swimming out of a -hundred shipwrecks, had clambered on to a lighter, as it were, and was -clerk to a coal-merchant, by the river-side. “You conceive, sir,” he -would say, “my employment is only temporary--the fortune of war, the -fortune of war!” He smattered words in not a few foreign languages. -His person was profusely scented with tobacco. Bearded individuals, -padding the muddy hoof in the neighbouring Regent Street, would call -sometimes of an evening, and ask for “the captain.” He was known at -many neighbouring billiard-tables, and, I imagine, not respected. You -will not see enough of Captain Prior to be very weary of him and his -coarse swagger, to be disgusted by his repeated requests for small -money-loans, or to deplore his loss, which you will please to suppose -has happened before the curtain of our present drama draws up. I think -two people in the world were sorry for him: his wife, who still loved -the memory of the handsome young man who had wooed and won her; his -daughter Elizabeth, whom for the last few months of his life, and up -to his fatal illness, he every evening conducted to what he called her -“academy.” You are right. Elizabeth is the principal character in this -story. When I knew her, a thin, freckled girl of fifteen, with a lean -frock, and hair of a reddish hue, she used to borrow my books, and play -on the First Floor’s piano, when he was from home--Slumley his name -was. He was editor of the _Swell_, a newspaper then published; author -of a great number of popular songs, a friend of several music-selling -houses; and it was by Mr. Slumley’s interest that Elizabeth was -received as a pupil at what the family called “the academy.” - -Captain Prior then used to conduct his girl to the Academy, but she -often had to conduct him home again. Having to wait about the premises -for two, or three, or five hours sometimes, whilst Elizabeth was doing -her lessons, he would naturally desire to shelter himself from the cold -at some neighbouring house of entertainment. Every Friday, a prize of -a golden medal, nay, I believe sometimes of twenty-five silver medals, -was awarded to Miss Bellenden and other young ladies for their good -conduct and assiduity at this academy. Miss Bellenden gave her gold -medal to her mother, only keeping five shillings for herself, with -which the poor child bought gloves, shoes, and her humble articles of -millinery. - -Once or twice the captain succeeded in intercepting that piece of gold, -and I daresay treated some of his whiskered friends, the clinking -trampers of the Quadrant pavement. He was a free-handed fellow when -he had anybody’s money in his pocket. It was owing to differences -regarding the settlement of accounts that he quarrelled with the -coal-merchant, his very last employer. Bessy, after yielding once or -twice to his importunity, and trying to believe his solemn promises -of repayment, had strength of mind to refuse her father the pound -which he would have taken. Her five shillings--her poor little slender -pocket-money, the representative of her charities and kindnesses to -the little brothers and sisters, of her little toilette ornaments, -nay necessities; of those well-mended gloves, of those oft-darned -stockings, of those poor boots, which had to walk many a weary mile -after midnight; of those little knicknacks, in the shape of brooch -or bracelet, with which the poor child adorned her homely robe or -sleeve--her poor five shillings, out of which Mary sometimes found a -pair of shoes, or Tommy a flannel jacket, and little Bill a coach and -horse--this wretched sum, this mite, which Bessy administered among -so many poor--I very much fear her father sometimes confiscated. I -charged the child with the fact, and she could not deny me. I vowed a -tremendous vow, that if ever I heard of her giving Prior money again, -I would quit the lodgings, and never give those children lolly-pop, -nor peg-top, nor sixpence; nor the pungent marmalade, nor the biting -gingerbread-nut, nor the theatre-characters, nor the paint-box to -illuminate the same; nor the discarded clothes, which became smaller -clothes upon the persons of little Tommy and little Bill, for whom Mrs. -Prior, and Bessy, and the little maid, cut, clipped, altered, ironed, -darned, mangled, with the greatest ingenuity. I say, considering -what had passed between me and the Priors--considering those money -transactions, and those clothes, and my kindness to the children--it -was rather hard that my jam-pots were poached, and my brandy-bottles -leaked. And then to frighten her brother with the story of the -inexorable creditor--oh, Mrs. Prior!--oh, fie, Mrs. P.! - -So Bessy went to her school in a shabby shawl, a faded bonnet, and a -poor little lean dress flounced with the mud and dust of all weathers, -whereas there were some other young ladies, fellow-pupils of hers, who -laid out their gold medals to much greater advantage. Miss Delamere, -with her eighteen shillings a week (calling them “_silver medals_,” -was only my wit, you see), had twenty new bonnets, silk and satin -dresses for all seasons, feathers in abundance, swansdown muffs and -tippets, lovely pocket handkerchiefs and trinkets, and many and many -a half-crown mould of jelly, bottle of sherry, blanket, or what not, -for a poor fellow-pupil in distress; and as for Miss Montanville, -who had exactly the same sal--well, who had a scholarship of exactly -the same value, viz. about fifty pounds yearly--she kept an elegant -little cottage in the Regent’s Park, a brougham with a horse all over -brass harness, and a groom with a prodigious gold lace hat-band, who -was treated with frightful contumely at the neighbouring cab-stand: -an aunt or a mother, I don’t know which (I hope it was only an aunt), -always comfortably dressed, and who looked after Montanville: and -she herself had bracelets, brooches, and velvet pelisses of the very -richest description. But then Miss Montanville was a good economist. -_She_ was never known to help a poor friend in distress, or give a -fainting brother and sister a crust or a glass of wine. She allowed -ten shillings a week to her father, whose name was Boskinson, said to -be clerk to a chapel in Paddington; but she would never see him--no, -not when he was in hospital, where he was so ill; and though she -certainly lent Miss Wilder thirteen pounds, she had Wilder arrested -upon her promissory note for twenty-four, and sold up every stick of -Wilder’s furniture, so that the whole academy cried shame! Well, an -accident occurred to Miss Montanville, for which those may be sorry -who choose. On the evening of the 26th of December, Eighteen hundred -and something, when the conductors of the academy were giving their -grand annual Christmas Pant--I should say examination of the Academy -pupils before their numerous friends--Montanville, who happened to -be present, not in her brougham this time, but in an aërial chariot -of splendour drawn by doves, fell off a rainbow, and through the -roof of the Revolving Shrine of the Amaranthine Queen, thereby very -nearly damaging Bellenden, who was occupying the shrine, attired in a -light-blue spangled dress, waving a wand, and uttering some idiotic -verses composed for her by the Professor of Literature attached to the -academy. As for Montanville, let her go shrieking down that trap-door, -break her leg, be taken home, and never more be character of ours. She -never could speak. Her voice was as hoarse as a fishwoman’s. Can that -immense stout old box-keeper at the ---- theatre, who limps up to -ladies on the first tier, and offers that horrible footstool, which -everybody stumbles over, and makes a clumsy curtsey, and looks so -knowing and hard, as if she recognized an acquaintance in the splendid -lady who enters the box--can that old female be the once brilliant -Emily Montanville? I am told there are _no_ lady box-keepers in the -English theatres. This, I submit, is a proof of my consummate care -and artifice in rescuing from a prurient curiosity the individual -personages from whom the characters of the present story are taken. -Montanville is _not_ a box-opener. She _may_, under another name, -keep a trinket-shop in the Burlington Arcade, for what you know: but -this secret no torture shall induce me to divulge. Life has its rises -and its downfalls, and you have had yours, you hobbling old creature. -Montanville, indeed! Go thy ways! Here is a shilling for thee. (Thank -you, sir.) Take away that confounded footstool, and never let us see -thee more! - -Now the fairy Amarantha was like a certain dear young lady of whom we -have read in early youth. Up to twelve o’clock, attired in sparkling -raiment, she leads the dance with the prince (Gradini, known as Grady -in his days of banishment at the T. R. Dublin). At supper, she takes -her place by the prince’s royal father (who is alive now, and still -reigns occasionally, so that we will not mention his revered name). She -makes believe to drink from the gilded pasteboard, and to eat of the -mighty pudding. She smiles as the good old irascible monarch knocks -the prime minister and the cooks about: she blazes in splendour: she -beams with a thousand jewels, in comparison with which the Koh-i-noor -is a wretched lustreless little pebble: she disappears in a chariot, -such as a Lord Mayor never rode in:--and at midnight, who is that young -woman tripping homeward through the wet streets in a battered bonnet, a -cotton shawl, and a lean frock fringed with the dreary winter flounces? - -Our Cinderella is up early in the morning: she does no little portion -of the house-work: she dresses her sisters and brothers: she prepares -papa’s breakfast. On days when she has not to go to morning lessons -at her academy, she helps with the dinner. Heaven help us! She has -often brought mine when I have dined at home, and owns to having made -that famous mutton-broth when I had a cold. Foreigners come to the -house--professional gentlemen--to see Slumley on the first floor; -exiled captains of Spain and Portugal, companions of the warrior her -father. It is surprising how she has learned their accents, and has -picked up French and Italian, too. And she played the piano in Mr. -Slumley’s room sometimes, as I have said; but refrained from that -presently, and from visiting him altogether. I suspect he was not a man -of principle. His Paper used to make direful attacks upon individual -reputations; and you would find theatre and opera people most curiously -praised and assaulted in the _Swell_. I recollect meeting him, several -years after, in the lobby of the opera, in a very noisy frame of mind, -when he heard a certain lady’s carriage called, and cried out with -exceeding strong language, which need not be accurately reported, “Look -at that woman! Confound her! I made her, sir! Got her an engagement -when the family was starving, sir! Did you see her, sir! She wouldn’t -even look at me!” Nor indeed was Mr. S. at that moment a very agreeable -object to behold. - -Then I remembered that there had been some quarrel with this man, when -we lodged in Beak Street together. If difficulty there was, it was -solved _ambulando_. He quitted the lodgings, leaving an excellent and -costly piano as security for a heavy bill which he owed to Mrs. Prior, -and the instrument was presently fetched away by the music-sellers, its -owners. But regarding Mr. S.’s valuable biography, let us speak very -gently. You see it is “an insult to literature” to say that there are -disreputable and dishonest persons who write in newspapers. - -Nothing, dear friend, escapes your penetration: if a joke is made in -your company, you are down upon it instanter, and your smile rewards -the wag who amuses you: so you knew at once, whilst I was talking of -Elizabeth and her academy, that a theatre was meant, where the poor -child danced for a guinea, or five-and-twenty shillings per week. -Nay, she must have had not a little skill and merit to advance to the -quarter of a hundred; for she was not pretty at this time, only a -rough, tawny-haired filly of a girl, with great eyes. Dolphin, the -manager, did not think much of her, and she passed before him in his -regiment of Sea-nymphs, or Bayadères, or Fairies, or Mazurka maidens -(with their fluttering lances and little scarlet slyboots!) scarcely -more noticed than private Jones standing under arms in his company when -his Royal Highness the Field-marshal gallops by. There were no dramatic -triumphs for Miss Bellenden: no bouquets were flung at her feet: no -cunning Mephistopheles--the emissary of some philandering Faustus -outside--corrupted her duenna, or brought her caskets of diamonds. Had -there been any such admirer for Bellenden, Dolphin would not only not -have been shocked, but he would very likely have raised her salary. As -it was, though himself, I fear, a person of loose morals, he respected -better things. “That Bellenden’s a good hhonest gurl,” he said to the -present writer: “works hard: gives her money to her family: father a -shy old cove. Very good family, I hear they are!” and he passes on to -some other of the innumerable subjects which engage a manager. - -Now, why should a poor lodging-house keeper make such a mighty secret -of having a daughter earning an honest guinea by dancing at a theatre? -Why persist in calling the theatre an academy? Why did Mrs. Prior speak -of it as such, to me who knew what the truth was, and to whom Elizabeth -herself made no mystery of her calling? - -There are actions and events in its life over which decent Poverty -often chooses to cast a veil that is not unbecoming wear. We can all, -if we are minded, peer through this poor flimsy screen: often there -is no shame behind it:--only empty platters, poor scraps, and other -threadbare evidence of want and cold. And who is called on to show -his rags to the public, and cry out his hunger in the street? At this -time (her character has developed itself not so amiably since), Mrs. -Prior was outwardly respectable; and yet, as I have said, my groceries -were consumed with remarkable rapidity; my wine and brandy bottles -were all leaky, until they were excluded from air under a patent -lock;--my Morel’s raspberry jam, of which I was passionately fond, if -exposed on the table for a few hours, was always eaten by the cat, or -that wonderful little wretch of a maid-of-all-work, so active, yet so -patient, so kind, so dirty, so obliging. Was it _the maid_ who took -those groceries? I have seen the _Gazza Ladra_, and know that poor -little maids are sometimes wrongfully accused; and besides, in my -particular case, I own I don’t care who the culprit was. At the year’s -end, a single man is not much poorer for this house-tax which he pays. -One Sunday evening, being confined with a cold, and partaking of that -mutton broth which Elizabeth made so well, and which she brought me, I -entreated her to bring from the cupboard, of which I gave her the key, -a certain brandy-bottle. She saw my face when I looked at her: there -was no mistaking its agony. There was scarce any brandy left: it had -all leaked away: and it was Sunday, and no good brandy was to be bought -that evening. - -Elizabeth, I say, saw my grief. She put down the bottle, and she -cried: she tried to prevent herself from doing so at first, but she -fairly burst into tears. - -“My dear--dear child,” says I, seizing her hand, “you don’t suppose I -fancy you----” - -“No--no!” she says, drawing the large hand over her eyes. “No--no! -but I saw it when you and Mr. Warrington last ’ad some. Oh! do have a -patting lock!” - -“A patent lock, my dear?” I remarked. “How odd that you, who have -learned to pronounce Italian and French words so well, should make such -strange slips in English? Your mother speaks well enough.” - -“She was born a lady. She was not sent to be a milliner’s girl, as I -was, and then among those noisy girls at that--oh! that _place_!” cries -Bessy, in a sort of desperation clenching her hand. - -Here the bells of St. Beak’s began to ring quite cheerily for evening -service. I heard “Elizabeth!” cried out from lower regions by Mrs. -Prior’s cracked voice. And the maiden went her way to Church, which she -and her mother never missed of a Sunday; and I daresay I slept just as -well without the brandy-and-water. - -Slumley being gone, Mrs. Prior came to me rather wistfully one day, -and wanted to know whether I would object to Madame Bentivoglio, the -opera-singer, having the first floor? This was too much, indeed! How -was my work to go on with that woman practising all day and roaring -underneath me? But after sending away so good a customer, I could not -refuse to lend the Priors a little more money; and Prior insisted -upon treating me to a new stamp, and making out a new and handsome -bill for an amount nearly twice as great as the last: which he had no -doubt under heaven, and which he pledged his honour as an officer and -a gentleman that he would meet. Let me see: That was how many years -ago?--Thirteen, fourteen, twenty? Never mind. My fair Elizabeth, I -think if you saw your poor old father’s signature now, you would pay -it. I came upon it lately in an old box I haven’t opened these fifteen -years, along with some letters written--never mind by whom--and an old -glove that I used to set an absurd value by; and that emerald-green -tabinet waistcoat which kind old Mrs. Macmanus gave me, and which I -wore at the L--d L--t--nt’s ball, Ph-n-x Park, Dublin, once, when I -danced with _her_ there! Lord!--Lord! It would no more meet round my -waist now than round Daniel Lambert’s. How we outgrow things! - -But as I never presented this united bill of 43_l._ odd (the first -portion of 23_l._, &c. was advanced by me in order to pay an execution -out of the house),--as I never expected to have it paid any more than I -did to be Lord Mayor of London,--I say it was a little hard that Mrs. -Prior should write off to her brother (she writes a capital letter), -blessing Providence that had given him a noble income, promising him -the benefit of her prayers, in order that he should long live to enjoy -his large salary, and informing him that an obdurate creditor, who -shall be nameless (meaning me), who had Captain Prior _in his power_ -(as if being in possession of that dingy scrawl, I should have known -what to do with it), who held Mr. Prior’s acceptance for 43_l._ 14_s._ -4_d._ due on the 3rd July (my bill), would infallibly bring their -family to RUIN, unless a part of the money was paid up. When I went up -to my old college, and called on Sargent, at Boniface Lodge, he treated -me as civilly as if I had been an undergraduate; scarcely spoke to me -in hall, where, of course, I dined at the Fellows’ table; and only -asked me to one of Mrs. Sargent’s confounded tea-parties during the -whole time of my stay. Now it was by this man’s entreaty that I went to -lodge at Prior’s; he talked to me after dinner one day, he hummed, he -ha’d, he blushed, he prated in his pompous way, about an unfortunate -sister in London--fatal early marriage--husband, Captain Prior, Knight -of the Swan with two Necks of Portugal, most distinguished officer, but -imprudent speculator--advantageous lodgings in the centre of London, -quiet, though near the Clubs--if I was ill (I am a confirmed invalid), -Mrs. Prior, his sister, would nurse me like a mother. So, in a word, I -went to Prior’s: I took the rooms: I was attracted by some children: -Amelia Jane (that little dirty maid before mentioned) dragging a -go-cart, containing a little dirty pair; another marching by them, -carrying a fourth well nigh as big as himself. These little folks, -having threaded the mighty flood of Regent Street, debouched into the -quiet creek of Beak Street, just as I happened to follow them. And the -door at which the small caravan halted,--the very door I was in search -of,--was opened by Elizabeth, then only just emerging from childhood, -with tawny hair falling into her solemn eyes. - -The aspect of these little people, which would have deterred many, -happened to attract me. I am a lonely man. I may have been ill-treated -by some one once, but that is neither here nor there. If I had had -children of my own, I think I should have been good to them. I thought -Prior a dreadful vulgar wretch, and his wife a scheming, greedy little -woman. But the children amused me: and I took the rooms, liking to hear -overhead in the morning the patter of their little feet. The person I -mean has several;--husband, judge in the West Indies. _Allons_! now you -know how I came to live at Mrs. Prior’s. - -Though I am now a steady, a _confirmed_ old bachelor (I shall call -myself Mr. Batchelor, if you please, in this story; and there is some -one far--far away who knows why I will NEVER take another title), I -was a gay young fellow enough once. I was not above the pleasures of -youth: in fact, I learned quadrilles on purpose to dance with her -that long vacation when I went to read with my young friend Lord -Viscount Poldoody at Dub--psha! Be still, thou foolish heart! Perhaps I -mis-spent my time as an undergraduate. Perhaps I read too many novels, -occupied myself too much with “elegant literature” (that used to be our -phrase), and spoke too often at the Union, where I had a considerable -reputation. But those fine words got me no college prizes: I missed my -fellowship: was rather in disgrace with my relations afterwards, but -had a small independence of my own, which I eked out by taking a few -pupils for little goes and the common degree. At length, a relation -dying, and leaving me a farther small income, I left the university, -and came to reside in London. - -Now, in my third year at college, there came to St. Boniface a young -gentleman, who was one of the few gentlemen-pensioners of our society. -His popularity speedily was great. A kindly and simple youth, he -would have been liked, I daresay, even though he had been no richer -than the rest of us; but this is certain, that flattery, worldliness, -mammon-worship, are vices as well known to young as to old boys; and -a rich lad at school or college has his followers, tuft-hunters, -led-captains, little courts, just as much as any elderly millionary of -Pall-Mall, who gazes round his club to see whom he shall take home to -dinner, while humble trencher-men wait anxiously, thinking--Ah! will -he take me this time? or will he ask that abominable sneak and toady -Henchman again? Well--well! this is an old story about parasites and -flatterers. My dear good sir, I am not for a moment going to say that -_you_ ever were one; and I daresay it was very base and mean of us to -like a man chiefly on account of his money. “I know”--Tom Lovel used to -say--“I know fellows come to my rooms because I have a large allowance, -and plenty of my poor old governor’s wine, and give good dinners: I -am not deceived; but, at least, it is pleasanter to come to me and -have good dinners, and good wine, than to go to Jack Highson’s dreary -tea and turnout, or to Ned Roper’s abominable Oxbridge port.” And so -I admit at once that Lovel’s parties _were_ more agreeable than most -men’s in the college. Perhaps the goodness of the fare, by pleasing the -guests, made them more pleasant. A dinner in hall, and a pewter-plate -is all very well, and I can say grace before it with all my heart; but -a dinner with fish from London, game, and two or three nice little -_entrées_, is better--and there was no better cook in the university -than ours at St. Boniface, and ah, me! there were appetites then, and -digestions which rendered the good dinner doubly good. - -Between me and young Lovel a friendship sprang up, which, I trust, even -the publication of this story will not diminish. There is a period, -immediately after the taking of his bachelor’s degree, when many a -university-man finds himself embarrassed. The tradesmen rather rudely -press for a settlement of their accounts. Those prints we ordered -_calidi juventâ_; those shirt-studs and pins which the jewellers would -persist in thrusting into our artless bosoms; those fine coats we would -insist on having for our books, as well as ourselves; all these have -to be paid for by the graduate. And my father, who was then alive, -refusing to meet these demands, under the--I own--just plea, that my -allowance had been ample, and that my half-sisters ought not to be -mulcted of their slender portions, in consequence of my extravagance, I -should have been subject to very serious inconvenience--nay, possibly, -to personal incarceration, had not Lovel, at the risk of rustication, -rushed up to London to his mother (who then had _especial reasons_ for -being very gracious with her son), obtained a supply of money from her, -and brought it to me at Mr. Shackell’s horrible hotel, where I was -lodged. He had tears in his kind eyes; he grasped my hand a hundred -and hundred times as he flung the notes into my lap; and the recording -tutor (Sargent was only tutor then) who was going to bring him up -before the Master for breach of discipline, dashed away a drop from -his own lid, when, with a moving eloquence, I told what had happened, -and blotted out the transaction with some particular old 1811 Port, of -which we freely partook in his private rooms that evening. By laborious -instalments, I had the happiness to pay Lovel back. I took pupils, -as I said; I engaged in literary pursuits: I became connected with a -literary periodical, and I am ashamed to say, I imposed myself upon the -public as a good classical scholar. I was not thought the less learned, -when my relative dying, I found myself in possession of a small -independency; and my _Translations from the Greek_, my _Poems by Beta_, -and my articles in the paper of which I was part proprietor for several -years, have had their little success in their day. - -Indeed at Oxbridge, if I did not obtain university honours, at least I -showed literary tastes. I got the prize essay one year at Boniface, and -plead guilty to having written essays, poems, and a tragedy. My college -friends had a joke at my expense (a very small joke serves to amuse -those port-wine-bibbing fogies, and keeps them laughing for ever so -long a time)--they are welcome, I say, to make merry at my charges--in -respect of a certain bargain which I made on coming to London, and in -which, had I been Moses Primrose purchasing green spectacles, I could -scarcely have been more taken in. _My_ Jenkinson was an old college -acquaintance, whom I was idiot enough to imagine a respectable man: -the fellow had a very smooth tongue, and sleek, sanctified exterior. -He was rather a popular preacher, and used to cry a good deal in the -pulpit. He, and a queer wine-merchant and bill-discounter, Sherrick by -name, had somehow got possession of that neat little literary paper, -the _Museum_, which, perhaps, you remember; and this eligible literary -property my friend Honeyman, with his wheedling tongue, induced me -to purchase. I bear no malice: the fellow is in India now, where I -trust he pays his butcher and baker. He was in dreadful straits for -money when he sold me the _Museum_. He began crying when I told him -some short time afterwards that he was a swindler, and from behind -his pocket-handkerchief sobbed a prayer that I should one day think -better of him; whereas my remarks to the same effect produced an -exactly contrary impression upon his accomplice, Sherrick, who burst -out laughing in my face, and said, “The more fool you.” Mr. Sherrick -was right. He was a fool, without mistake, who had any money-dealing -with him; and poor Honeyman was right, too; I don’t think so badly of -him as I did. A fellow so hardly pinched for money could not resist -the temptation of extracting it from such a greenhorn. I daresay I -gave myself airs as editor of that confounded _Museum_, and proposed -to educate the public taste, to diffuse morality and sound literature -throughout the nation, and to pocket a liberal salary in return for -my services. I daresay I printed my own sonnets, my own tragedy, my -own verses (to a Being who shall be nameless, but whose conduct has -caused a faithful heart to bleed not a little). I daresay I wrote -satirical articles, in which I piqued myself upon the fineness of my -wit, and criticisms, got up for the nonce, out of encyclopædias and -biographical dictionaries; so that I would be actually astounded at my -own knowledge. I daresay I made a gaby of myself to the world: pray, my -good friend, hast thou never done likewise? If thou hast never been a -fool, be sure thou wilt never be a wise man. - -I think it was my brilliant _confrère_ on the first floor (he had -pecuniary transactions with Sherrick, and visited two or three of her -Majesty’s metropolitan prisons at that gentleman’s suit) who first -showed me how grievously I had been cheated in the newspaper matter. -Slumley wrote for a paper printed at our office. The same boy often -brought proofs to both of us--a little bit of a puny bright-eyed chap, -who looked scarce twelve years old, when he was sixteen; who in wit was -a man, when in stature he was a child,--like many other children of the -poor. - -This little Dick Bedford used to sit many hours asleep on my -landing-place or Slumley’s, whilst we were preparing our invaluable -compositions within our respective apartments. S. was a good-natured -reprobate, and gave the child of his meat and his drink. I used to -like to help the little man from my breakfast, and see him enjoy the -meal. As he sate, with his bag on his knees, his head sunk in sleep, -his little high-lows scarce reaching the floor, Dick made a touching -little picture. The whole house was fond of him. The tipsy captain -nodded him a welcome as he swaggered down stairs, stock, and coat, and -waistcoat in hand, to his worship’s toilette in the back kitchen. The -children and Dick were good friends; and Elizabeth patronized him, -and talked with him now and again, in her grave way. You know Clancy, -the composer?--know him better, perhaps, under his name of Friedrich -Donner? Donner used to write music to Slumley’s words, or _vice versâ_; -and would come now and again to Beak Street, where he and his poet -would try their joint work at the piano. At the sound of that music, -little Dick’s eyes used to kindle. “Oh, it’s prime!” said the young -enthusiast. And I will say, that good-natured miscreant of a Slumley -not only gave the child pence, but tickets for the play, concerts, and -so forth. Dick had a neat little suit of clothes at home; his mother -made him a very nice little waistcoat out of my undergraduate’s gown; -and he and she, a decent woman, when in their best raiment, looked -respectable enough for any theatre-pit in England. - -Amongst other places of public amusement which he attended, Mr. Dick -frequented the academy where Miss Bellenden danced, and whence poor -Elizabeth Prior issued forth after midnight in her shabby frock. And -once, the captain, Elizabeth’s father and protector, being unable -to walk very accurately, and noisy and incoherent in his speech, so -that the attention of Messieurs of the police was directed towards -him, Dick came up, placed Elizabeth and her father in a cab, paid the -fare with his own money, and brought the whole party home in triumph, -himself sitting on the box of the vehicle. I chanced to be coming -home myself (from one of Mrs. Wateringham’s elegant tea _soirées_, in -Dorset Square), and reached my door just at the arrival of Dick and his -caravan. “Here, cabby!” says Dick, handing out the fare, and looking -with his brightest eyes. It is pleasanter to look at that beaming -little face, than at the captain yonder, reeling into his house, -supported by his daughter. Dick cried, Elizabeth told me, when, a week -afterwards, she wanted to pay him back his shilling; and she said he -was a strange child, that he was. - -I revert to my friend Lovel. I was coaching Lovel for his degree -(which, between ourselves, I think he never would have attained), when -he suddenly announced to me, from Weymouth, where he was passing the -vacation, his intention to quit the university, and to travel abroad. -“Events have happened, dear friend,” he wrote, “which will make my -mother’s home miserable to me (I little knew when I went to town about -your business, what caused her _wonderful complaisance_ to me). She -would have broken my heart, Charles (my Christian name is Charles), but -its wounds have found a _consoler_!” - -Now, in this little chapter, there are some little mysteries -propounded, upon which, were I not above any such artifice, I might -easily leave the reader to ponder for a month. - -1. Why did Mrs. Prior, at the lodgings, persist in calling the theatre -at which her daughter danced the Academy? - -2. What were the special reasons why Mrs. Lovel should be very gracious -with her son, and give him 150_l._ as soon as he asked for the money? - -3. Why was Fred Lovel’s heart nearly broken? and 4. Who was his -consoler? - -I answer these at once, and without the slightest attempt at delay -or circumlocution. 1. Mrs. Prior, who had repeatedly received money -from her brother, John Erasmus Sargent, D.D., Master of St. Boniface -College, knew perfectly well that if the Master (whom she already -pestered out of his life) heard that she had sent a niece of his on the -stage, he would never give her another shilling. - -2. The reason why Emma, widow of the late Adolphus Loeffel, of -Whitechapel Road, sugar-baker, was so particularly gracious to her son, -Adolphus Frederic Lovel, Esq., of St. Boniface College, Oxbridge, and -principal partner in the house of Loeffel aforesaid, an infant, was -that she, Emma, was about to contract a second marriage with the Rev. -Samuel Bonnington. - -3. Fred Lovel’s heart was so very much broken by this intelligence, -that he gave himself airs of Hamlet, dressed in black, wore his long -fair hair over his eyes, and exhibited a hundred signs of grief and -desperation: until-- - -4. Louisa (widow of the late Sir Popham Baker, of Bakerstown, Co. -Kilkenny, Baronet,) induced Mr. Lovel to take a trip on the Rhine with -her and Cecilia, fourth and only unmarried daughter of the aforesaid -Sir Popham Baker, deceased. - -My opinion of Cecilia I have candidly given in a previous page. -I adhere to that opinion. I shall not repeat it. The subject is -disagreeable to me, as the woman herself was in life. What Fred found -in her to admire, I cannot tell: lucky for us all that tastes, men, -women, vary. You will never see her alive in this history. That is -her picture, painted by the late Mr. Gandish. She stands fingering -that harp with which she has often driven me half mad with her _Tara’s -Halls_ and her _Poor Marianne_. She used to bully Fred so, and be so -rude to his guests, that in order to pacify her, he would meanly say, -“Do, my love, let us have a little music!” and thrumpty--thrumpty, off -would go her gloves, and _Tara’s Halls_ would begin. “The harp that -_once_” indeed! the accursed catgut scarce knew any other music, and -“once” was a hundred times at least in _my_ hearing. Then came the -period when I was treated to the cold joint which I have mentioned; -and, not liking it, I gave up going to Shrublands. - -So, too, did my Lady Baker, but not of _her own free will_, mind -you. _She_ did not quit the premises because her reception was too -cold, but because the house was made a great deal too hot for her. -I remember Fred coming to me in high spirits, and describing to me, -with no little humour, a great battle between Cecilia and Lady Baker, -and her ladyship’s defeat and flight. She fled, however, only as far -as Putney village, where she formed again, as it were, and fortified -herself in a lodging. Next day she made a desperate and feeble attack, -presenting herself at Shrublands lodge-gate, and threatening that she -and sorrow would sit down before it; and that all the world should know -how a daughter treated her mother. But the gate was locked, and Barnet, -the gardener, appeared behind it, saying, “Since you _are_ come, my -lady, perhaps you will pay my missis the four-and-twenty shillings you -borrowed of her.” And he grinned at her through the bars, until she -fled before him, cowering. Lovel paid the little forgotten account; the -best four-and-twenty shillings he had ever laid out, he said. - -Eight years passed away; during the last four of which I scarce saw -my old friend, except at clubs and taverns, where we met privily, and -renewed, not old warmth and hilarity, but old kindness. One winter -he took his family abroad; Cecilia’s health was delicate, Lovel told -me, and the doctor had advised that she should spend a winter in the -south. He did not stay with them: he had pressing affairs at home; he -had embarked in many businesses besides the paternal sugar-bakery; was -concerned in companies, a director of a joint-stock bank, a man in -whose fire were many irons. A faithful governess was with the children; -a faithful man and maid were in attendance on the invalid; and Lovel, -adoring his wife, as he certainly did, yet supported her absence with -great equanimity. - -In the spring I was not a little scared to read amongst the deaths -in the newspaper:--“At Naples, of scarlet fever, on the 25th ult., -Cecilia, wife of Frederick Lovel Esq., and daughter of the late Sir -Popham Baker, Bart.” I knew what my friend’s grief would be. He had -hurried abroad at the news of her illness; he did not reach Naples in -time to receive the last words of his poor Cecilia. - -Some months after the catastrophe, I had a note from Shrublands. Lovel -wrote quite in the old affectionate tone. He begged his dear old friend -to go to him, and console him in his solitude. Would I come to dinner -that evening? - -Of course I went off to him straightway. I found him in deep sables in -the drawing-room with his children, and I confess I was not astonished -to see my Lady Baker once more in that room. - -“You seem surprised to see me here, Mr. Batchelor!” says her ladyship, -with that grace and good breeding which she generally exhibited; for -if she accepted benefits, she took care to insult those from whom she -received them. - -“Indeed, no,” said I, looking at Lovel, who piteously hung down his -head. He had his little Cecy at his knee: he was sitting under the -portrait of the defunct musician, whose harp, now muffled in leather, -stood dimly in the corner of the room. - -“I am here not at my own wish, but from a feeling of duty towards -that--departed--angel!” says Lady Baker, pointing to the picture. - -“I am sure when mamma was here, you were always quarrelling,” says -little Popham, with a scowl. - -“This is the way those innocent children have been taught to regard -me,” cries grandmamma. - -“Silence Pop!” says papa, “and don’t be a rude boy.” - -“Isn’t Pop a rude boy?” echoes Cecy. - -“Silence, Pop,” continues papa, “or you must go up to Miss Prior.” - - - - - Studies in Animal Life. - - “Authentic tidings of invisible things; - Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power, - And central peace subsisting at the heart - Of endless agitation.”--THE EXCURSION. - - - CHAPTER I. - - Omnipresence of Life--The Microscope--An Opalina and its - wonders--The uses of Cilia--How our lungs are protected from - dust and filings--Feeding without a mouth or stomach--What is - an organ?--How a complex organism arises--Early stages of a - frog and a philosopher--How the plants feed--Parasites of the - frog--Metamorphoses and migrations of Parasites--Life within - life--The budding of animals--A steady bore--Philosophy of the - infinitely little. - -Come with me, and lovingly study Nature, as she breathes, palpitates, -and works under myriad forms of Life--forms unseen, unsuspected, or -unheeded by the mass of ordinary men. Our course may be through park -and meadow, garden and lane, over the swelling hills and spacious -heaths, beside the running and sequestered streams, along the tawny -coast, out on the dark and dangerous reefs, or under dripping caves -and slippery ledges. It matters little where we go: everywhere--in -the air above, the earth beneath, and waters under the earth--we are -surrounded with Life. Avert your eyes awhile from our human world, with -its ceaseless anxieties, its noble sorrow, poignant, yet sublime, of -conscious imperfection aspiring to higher states, and contemplate the -calmer activities of that other world with which we are so mysteriously -related. I hear you exclaim,-- - - “The proper study of mankind is man;” - -nor will I pretend, as some enthusiastic students seem to think, that - - “The proper study of mankind is _cells_;” - -but agreeing with you, that man is the noblest study, I would suggest -that under the noblest there are other problems which we must not -neglect. Man himself is imperfectly known, because the laws of -universal Life are imperfectly known. His Life forms but one grand -illustration of Biology--the science of Life,[21] as he forms but the -apex of the animal world. - -Our studies here will be of Life, and chiefly of those minuter, or -obscurer forms, which seldom attract attention. In the air we breathe, -in the water we drink, in the earth we tread on, Life is everywhere. -Nature _lives_: every pore is bursting with Life; every death is only -a new birth, every grave a cradle. And of this we know so little, -think so little! Around us, above us, beneath us, that great mystic -drama of creation is being enacted, and we will not even consent to be -spectators! Unless animals are obviously useful, or obviously hurtful -to us, we disregard them. Yet they are not alien, but akin. The Life -that stirs within us, stirs within them. We are all “parts of one -transcendent whole.” The scales fall from our eyes when we think of -this; it is as if a new sense had been vouchsafed to us; and we learn -to look at Nature with a more intimate and personal love. - -Life everywhere! The air is crowded with birds--beautiful, tender, -intelligent birds, to whom life is a song and a thrilling anxiety, -the anxiety of love. The air is swarming with insects--those little -animated miracles. The waters are peopled with innumerable forms, from -the animalcule, so small that one hundred and fifty millions of them -would not weigh a grain, to the whale, so large that it seems an island -as it sleeps upon the waves. The bed of the seas is alive with polypes, -crabs, star-fishes, and with sand-numerous shell-animalcules. The -rugged face of rocks is scarred by the silent boring of soft creatures; -and blackened with countless mussels, barnacles, and limpets. - -Life everywhere! on the earth, in the earth, crawling, creeping, -burrowing, boring, leaping, running. If the sequestered coolness of -the wood tempt us to saunter into its chequered shade, we are saluted -by the murmurous din of insects, the twitter of birds, the scrambling -of squirrels, the startled rush of unseen beasts, all telling how -populous is this seeming solitude. If we pause before a tree, or -shrub, or plant, our cursory and half-abstracted glance detects a -colony of various inhabitants. We pluck a flower, and in its bosom -we see many a charming insect busy at its appointed labour. We pick -up a fallen leaf, and if nothing is visible on it, there is probably -the trace of an insect larva hidden in its tissue, and awaiting there -development. The drop of dew upon this leaf will probably contain its -animals, visible under the microscope. This same microscope reveals -that the _blood-rain_ suddenly appearing on bread, and awakening -superstitious terrors, is nothing but a collection of minute animals -(_Monas prodigiosa_); and that the vast tracts of snow which are -reddened in a single night, owe their colour to the marvellous rapidity -in reproduction of a minute plant (_Protococcus nivalis_). The very -mould which covers our cheese, our bread, our jam, or our ink, and -disfigures our damp walls; is nothing but a collection of plants. The -many-coloured fire which sparkles on the surface of a summer sea at -night, as the vessel ploughs her way, or which drips from the oars in -lines of jewelled light, is produced by millions of minute animals. - -Nor does the vast procession end here. Our very mother-earth is formed -of the débris of life. Plants and animals which have been, build up -its solid fabric.[22] We dig downwards, thousands of feet below the -surface, and discover with surprise the skeletons of strange, uncouth -animals, which roamed the fens and struggled through the woods before -man was. Our surprise is heightened when we learn that the very quarry -itself is mainly composed of the skeletons of microscopic animals; the -flints which grate beneath our carriage wheels are but the remains of -countless skeletons. The Apennines and Cordilleras, the chalk cliffs -so dear to homeward-nearing eyes--these are the pyramids of bygone -generations of atomies. Ages ago, these tiny architects secreted -the tiny shells, which were their palaces; from the ruins of these -palaces we build our Parthenons, our St. Peters, and our Louvres. So -revolves the luminous orb of Life! Generations follow generations; and -the Present becomes the matrix of the Future, as the Past was of the -Present: the Life of one epoch forming the prelude to a higher Life. - -When we have thus ranged air, earth, and water, finding everywhere a -prodigality of living forms, visible and invisible, it might seem as -if the survey were complete. And yet it is not so. Life cradles within -Life. The bodies of animals are little worlds, having their own animals -and plants. A celebrated Frenchman has published a thick octavo volume -devoted to the classification and description of “The Plants which grow -on Men and Animals;”[23] and many Germans have described the immense -variety of animals which grow on and in men and animals; so that -science can now boast of a parasitic Flora and Fauna. In the fluids and -tissues, in the eye, in the liver, in the stomach, in the brain, in the -muscles, parasites are found; and these parasites have often _their_ -parasites living in them! - -We have thus taken a bird’s-eye view of the field in which we may -labour. It is truly inexhaustible. We may begin where we please, we -shall never come to an end; our curiosity will never slacken. - - “And whosoe’er in youth - Has thro’ ambition of his soul given way - To such desires, and grasp’d at such delights, - Shall feel congenial stirrings, late and long.” - -As a beginning, get a microscope. If you cannot borrow, boldly buy one. -Few purchases will yield you so much pleasure; and while you are about -it, do, if possible, get a good one. Spend as little money as you can -on accessory apparatus and expensive fittings, but get a good stand -and good glasses. Having got your instrument, bear in mind these two -important trifles--work by daylight, seldom or never by lamplight; and -keep the unoccupied eye _open_. With these precautions you may work -daily for hours without serious fatigue to the eye. - -Now where shall we begin? Anywhere will do. This dead frog, for -example, that has already been made the subject of experiments, and is -now awaiting the removal of its spinal cord, will serve us as a text -from which profitable lessons may be drawn. We snip out a portion of -its digestive tube, which from its emptiness seems to promise little; -but a drop of the liquid we find in it is placed on a glass slide, -covered with a small piece of very thin glass, and brought under the -microscope. Now look. There are several things which might occupy your -attention; but disregard them now to watch that animalcule which you -observe swimming about. What is it? It is one of the largest of the -Infusoria, and is named _Opalina_. When I call this an Infusorium I -am using the language of text-books; but there seems to be a growing -belief among zoologists that the Opalina is not an Infusorium, but the -infantile condition of some worm (_Distoma_?). However, it will not -grow into a mature worm as long as it inhabits the frog; it waits till -some pike, or bird, has devoured the frog, and then, in the stomach of -its new captor, it will develop into its mature form: then, and not -till then. This surprises you? And well it may; but thereby hangs a -tale, which to unfold--for the present, however, it must be postponed, -because the Opalina itself needs all our notice. - -[Illustration: Fig. 1. - - A B - - OPALINA RANARUM. - - A Front view } - } Magnified. - B Side view } -] - -Observe how transparent it is, and with what easy, undulating grace -it swims about; yet this swimmer has no arms, no legs, no tail, no -backbone to serve as a fulcrum to moving muscles: nay, it has no -muscles to move with. ’Tis a creature of the most absolute abnegations: -sans eyes, sans teeth, sans everything;--no, not sans everything, for -as we look attentively we see certain currents produced in the liquid, -and on applying a higher magnifying power we detect how these currents -are produced. All over the surface of the Opalina there are delicate -hairs, in incessant vibration: these are the _cilia_.[24] They lash the -water, and the animal is propelled by their strokes, as a galley by its -hundred oars. This is your first sight of that ciliary action of which -you have so often read, and which you will henceforth find performing -some important service in almost every animal you examine. Sometimes -the cilia act as instruments of locomotion; sometimes as instruments of -respiration, by continually renewing the current of water; sometimes -as the means of drawing in food--for which purpose they surround the -mouth, and by their incessant action produce a small whirlpool into -which the food is sucked. An example of this is seen in the Vorticella -(Fig. 2). - -[Illustration: Fig. 2. - -GROUP OF VORTICELLA NEBULIFERA, on a Stem of Weed, Magnified. - - A One undergoing spontaneous division. - - B Another spirally retracted on its stalk. - - C One with cilia retracted. - - D A bud detached and swimming free.] - -Having studied the action of these cilia in microscopic animals, you -will be prepared to understand their office in your own organism. The -lining membrane of your air-passages is covered with cilia; which may -be observed by following the directions of Professor Sharpey, to whom -science is indebted for a very exhaustive description of these organs. -“To see them in motion, a portion of the ciliated mucous membrane may -be taken from a recently-killed quadruped. The piece of membrane is -to be folded with its free, or ciliated, surface outwards, placed on -a slip of glass, with a little water or serum of blood, and covered -with thin glass or mica. When it is now viewed with a power of 200 -diameters, or upwards, a very obvious agitation will be perceived on -the edge of the fold, and this appearance is caused by the moving -cilia with which the surface of the membrane is covered. Being set -close together, and moving simultaneously or in quick succession, the -cilia, when in brisk action, give rise to the appearance of a bright -transparent fringe along the fold of the membrane, agitated by such -a rapid and incessant motion that the single threads which compose -it cannot be perceived. The motion here meant is that of the cilia -themselves; but they also set in motion the adjoining fluid, driving -it along the ciliated surface, as is indicated by the agitation of any -little particles that may accidentally float in it. The fact of the -conveyance of fluids and other matters along the ciliated surface, as -well as the direction in which they are impelled, may also be made -manifest by immersing the membrane in fluid, and dropping on it some -finely-pulverized substance (such as charcoal in fine powder), which -will be slowly but steadily carried along in a constant and determinate -direction.”[25] - -It is an interesting fact, that while the direction in which the -cilia propel fluids and particles is generally towards the interior -of the organism, it is sometimes _reversed_; and, instead of beating -the particles inwards, the cilia energetically beat them back, if -they attempt to enter. Fatal results would ensue if this were not so. -Our air-passages would no longer protect the lungs from particles of -sand, coal-dust, and filings, flying about the atmosphere; on the -contrary, the lashing hairs which cover the surface of these passages -would catch up every particle, and drive it onwards into the lungs. -Fortunately for us, the direction of the cilia is reversed, and they -act as vigilant janitors, driving back all vagrant particles with a -stern “No admittance--_even_ on business!” In vain does the whirlwind -dash a column of dust in our faces--in vain does the air, darkened with -coal-dust, impetuously rush up the nostrils: the air is allowed to pass -on, but the dust is inexorably driven back. Were it not so, how could -miners, millers, iron-workers, and all the modern Tubal Cains contrive -to live in their loaded atmospheres? In a week, their lungs would be -choked up. - -Perhaps, you will tell me that this _is_ the case: that manufacturers -of iron and steel are very subject to consumption; and that there is a -peculiar discoloration of the lungs which has often been observed in -coal miners, examined after death. - -Not being a physician, and not intending to trouble you with medical -questions, I must still place before you three considerations, which -will show how untenable this notion is. First, although consumption -may be frequent among the Sheffield workmen, the cause is not to be -sought in their breathing filings, but in the sedentary and unwholesome -confinement incidental to their occupation. Miners and coal-heavers -are not troubled with consumption. Moreover, if the filings were -the cause, all the artisans would suffer, when all breathe the same -atmosphere. Secondly, while it is true that discoloured lungs have been -observed in some miners, it has not been observed in all, or in many; -whereas, it has been observed in men not miners, not exposed to any -unusual amount of coal-dust. Thirdly, and most conclusively, experiment -has shown that the coal-dust _cannot_ penetrate to the lungs. Claude -Bernard, the brilliant experimenter, tied a bladder, containing a -quantity of powdered charcoal, to the muzzle of a rabbit. Whenever the -animal breathed, the powder within the bladder was seen to be agitated. -Except during feeding time, the bladder was kept constantly on, so that -the animal breathed only this dusty air. If the powder _could_ have -escaped the vigilance of the cilia, and got into the lungs, this was -a good occasion. But when the rabbit was killed and opened, many days -afterwards, no powder whatever was found in the lungs, or bronchial -tubes; several patches were collected about the nostrils and throat; -but the cilia had acted as a strainer, keeping all particles from the -air-tubes. - -The swimming apparatus of the Opalina has led us far away from the -little animal, who has been feeding while we have been lecturing. -At the mention of feeding, you naturally look for the food that is -eaten, the mouth and stomach that eat. But I hinted just now that -this ethereal creature dispenses with a stomach, as too gross for -its nature; and of course, by a similar refinement, dispenses with -a mouth. Indeed, it has no organs whatever, except the cilia just -spoken of. The same is true of several of the Infusoria; for you must -know that naturalists no longer recognize the complex organization -which Ehrenberg fancied he had detected in these microscopic beings. -If it pains you to relinquish the piquant notion of a microscopic -animalcule having a structure equal in complexity to that of the -elephant, there will be ample compensation in the notion which replaces -it, the notion of an ascending series of animal organisms, rising -from the structureless _amœba_ to the complex frame of a mammal. On -a future occasion we shall see that, great as Ehrenberg’s services -have been, his _interpretations_ of what he saw have one by one been -replaced by truer notions. His immense class of Infusoria has been, -and is constantly being, diminished; many of his animals turn out to -be plants; many of them embryos of worms; and some of them belong -to the same divisions of the animal kingdom as the oyster and the -shrimp: that is to say, they range with the Molluscs and Crustaceans. -In these, of course, there is a complex organization; but in the -Infusoria, as now understood, the organization is extremely simple. -No one now believes the clear spaces visible in their substance to be -stomachs, as Ehrenberg believed; and the idea of the _Polygastrica_, or -many-stomached Infusoria, is abandoned. No one believes the coloured -specs to be eyes; because, not to mention the difficulty of conceiving -eyes where there is no nervous system, it has been found that even the -spores of some plants have these coloured specs; and they are assuredly -not eyes. If, then, we exclude the highly-organized _Rotifera_, or -“Wheel Animalcules,” which are genuine Crustacea, we may say that all -Infusoria, whether they be the young of worms or not, are of very -simple organization. - -And this leads us to consider what biologists mean by an _organ_: it -is a particular portion of the body set apart for the performance of -some particular function. The whole process of development is this -setting apart for special purposes. The starting-point of Life is a -single cell--that is to say, a microscopic sac, filled with liquid and -granules, and having within it a nucleus, or smaller sac. Paley has -somewhere remarked, that in the early stages, there is no difference -discernible between a frog and a philosopher. It is very true; truer -than he conceived. In the earliest stage of all, both the Batrachian -and the Philosopher are nothing but single cells; although the one cell -will develop into an Aristotle or a Newton, and the other will get -no higher than the cold, damp, croaking animal which boys will pelt, -anatomists dissect, and Frenchmen eat. From the starting-point of a -single cell, this is the course taken: the cell divides itself into -two, the two become four, the four eight, and so on, till a mass of -cells is formed, not unlike the shape of a mulberry. This mulberry-mass -then becomes a sac, with double envelopes, or walls: the inner wall, -turned towards the yelk, or food, becomes the _assimilating_ surface -for the whole; the outer wall, turned towards the surrounding medium, -becomes the surface which is to bring frog and philosopher into contact -and relation with the external world--the Non-Ego, as the philosopher, -in after life, will call it. Here we perceive the first grand “setting -apart,” or _differentiation_, has taken place: the embryo having an -assimilating surface, which has little to do with the external world; -and a sensitive, contractile surface, which has little to do with the -preparation and transport of food. The embryo is no longer a mass -of similar cells; it is already become dissimilar, _different_, as -respects its inner and outer envelope. But these envelopes are at -present uniform; one part of each is exactly like the rest. Let us, -therefore, follow the history of Development, and we shall find that -the inner wall gradually becomes unlike itself in various parts; -and that certain organs, constituting a very complex apparatus of -Digestion, Secretion, and Excretion, are all one by one wrought out of -it, by a series of metamorphoses, or _differentiations_. The inner wall -thus passes from a simple assimilating surface to a complex apparatus -serving the functions of vegetative life. - -Now glance at the outer wall: from it also various organs have -gradually been wrought: it has developed into muscles, nerves, bones, -organs of sense, and brain: all these from a simple homogeneous -membrane! - -With this bird’s-eye view of the course of Development, you will be -able to appreciate the grand law first clearly enunciated by Goethe -and Von Baer, as the law of animal life, namely, that Development is -always from the general to the special, from the simple to the complex, -from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous; and this by a gradual series -of _differentiations_.[26] Or to put it into the music of our deeply -meditative Tennyson:-- - - “All nature widens upward. Evermore - The simpler essence lower lies: - More complex is more perfect--owning more - Discourse, more widely wise.” - -You are now familiarized with the words “differentiation” and -“development,” so often met with in modern writers; and have gained a -distinct idea of what an “organ” is; so that on hearing of an animal -without organs, you will at once conclude that in such an animal there -has been no setting apart of any portion of the body for special -purposes, but that all parts serve all purposes indiscriminately. Here -is our Opalina, for example, without mouth, or stomach, or any other -organ. It is an assimilating surface in every part; in every part a -breathing, sensitive surface. Living on liquid food, it does not need -a mouth to seize, or a stomach to digest, such food. The liquid, or -gas, passes through the Opalina’s delicate skin, by a process which is -called _endosmosis_; it there serves as food; and the refuse passes -out again by a similar process, called _exosmosis_. This is the way in -which many animals and all plants are nourished. The cell at the end -of a rootlet, which the plant sends burrowing through the earth, has -no mouth to seize, no open pores to admit the liquid that it needs; -nevertheless the liquid passes into the cell, through its delicate -cell-wall, and passes from this cell to _other_ cells, upwards from the -rootlet to the bud. It is in this way, also, that the Opalina feeds: it -is all-mouth, no-mouth; all-stomach, no-stomach. Every part of its body -performs the functions which in more complex animals are performed by -organs specially set apart. It feeds without mouth, breathes without -lungs, and moves without muscles. - -The Opalina, as I said, is a parasite. It may be found in various -animals, and almost always in the frog. You will, perhaps, ask why it -should be considered a parasite; why may it not have been swallowed by -the frog in a gulp of water? Certainly, nothing would have been easier. -But to remove your doubts, I open the skull of this frog, and carefully -remove a drop of the liquid found inside, which, on being brought -under the microscope, we shall most probably find containing some -animalcules, especially those named _Monads_. These were not swallowed. -They live in the cerebro-spinal fluid, as the Opalina lives in the -digestive tube. Nay, if we extend our researches, we shall find that -various organs have their various parasites. Here, for instance, is a -parasitic worm from the frog’s bladder. Place it under the microscope, -with a high power, and behold! It is called _Polystomum_--many-mouthed, -or, more properly, many-suckered. You are looking at the under side, -and will observe six large suckers with their starlike clasps (_e_), -and the horny instrument (_f_), with which the animal bores its way. At -_a_ there is another sucker, which serves also as a mouth; at _b_ you -perceive the rudiment of a gullet, and at _d_ the reproductive organs. -But pay attention to the pretty branchings of the digestive tube (_c_) -which ramifies through the body like a blood-vessel. - -[Illustration: Fig. 3. - -POLYSTOMUM INTEGERRIMUM, Magnified.] - -This arrangement of the digestive tube is found in many animals, and -is often mistaken for a system of blood-vessels. In one sense this -is correct; for these branching tubes are carriers of nutriment, and -the only circulating vessels such animals possess; but the nutriment -is _chyme_, not blood: these simple animals have not arrived at the -dignity of blood, which is a higher elaboration of the food, fitted for -higher organisms. - -Thus may our frog, besides its own marvels, afford us many “authentic -tidings of invisible things,” and is itself a little colony of Life. -Nature is economic as well as prodigal of space. She fills the -illimitable heavens with planetary and starry grandeurs, and the -tiny atoms moving over the crust of earth she makes the homes of the -infinitely little. Far as the mightiest telescope can reach, it -detects worlds in clusters, like pebbles on the shore of Infinitude; -deep as the microscope can penetrate, it detects Life within Life, -generation within generation; as if the very Universe itself were not -vast enough for the energies of Life! - -That phrase, generation within generation, was not a careless phrase; -it is exact. Take the tiny insect (_Aphis_) which, with its companions, -crowds your rose-tree; open it, in a solution of sugar-water, under -your microscope, and you will find in it a young insect nearly formed; -open that young insect with care, and you will find in it, also, -another young one, less advanced in its development, but perfectly -recognizable to the experienced eye; and beside this embryo you will -find many eggs, which would in time become insects! - -Or take that lazy water-snail (_Paludina vivipara_), first made known -to science by the great Swammerdamm, the incarnation of patience and -exactness, and you will find, as he found, forty or fifty young snails, -in various stages of development; and you will also find, as he found, -some tiny worms, which, if you cut them open, will suffer three or four -infusoria to escape from the opening.[27] In your astonishment you will -ask, Where is this to end? - -The observation recorded by Swammerdamm, like so many others of this -noble worker, fell into neglect; but modern investigators have made -it the starting-point of a very curious inquiry. The worms he found -within the snail are now called _Cercaria-sacs_, because they contain -the _Cercariæ_, once classed as Infusoria, and which are now known to -be the early forms of parasitic worms inhabiting the digestive tube, -and other cavities, of higher animals. These _Cercariæ_ have vigorous -tails, with which they swim through the water like tadpoles, and -like tadpoles, they lose their tails in after life. But how, think -you, did these sacs containing _Cercariæ_ get into the water-snails? -“By spontaneous generation,” formerly said the upholders of that -hypothesis; and those who condemned the hypothesis were forced to admit -they had no better explanation. It was a mystery, which they preferred -leaving unexplained, rather than fly to spontaneous generation. And -they were right. The mystery has at length been cleared up.[28] I will -endeavour to bring together the scattered details, and narrate the -curious story. - -Under the eyelids of geese and ducks may be constantly found a -parasitic worm (of the _Trematode_ order), which naturalists have -christened _Monostomum mutabile_--Single-mouth, Changeable. This worm -brings forth living young, in the likeness of active Infusoria, which, -being covered with cilia, swim about in the water, as we saw the -Opalina swim. Here is a portrait of one. (Fig. 4.) - -Each of these animalcules develops a sac in its interior. The sac -you may notice in the engraving. Having managed to get into the body -of the water-snail, the animalcule’s part in the drama is at an end. -It dies, and in dying liberates the sac, which is very comfortably -housed and fed by the snail. If you examine this sac (Fig. 5), you will -observe that it has a mouth and digestive tube, and is, therefore, very -far from being, what its name imports, a mere receptacle; it is an -independent animal, and lives an independent life. It feeds generously -on the juices of the snail, and having fed, thinks generously of the -coming generations. It was born inside the animalcule; why should it -not in turn give birth to children of its own? To found a dynasty, to -scatter progeny over the bounteous earth, is a worthy ambition. The -mysterious agency of Reproduction begins in this sac-animal; and in -a short while a brood of _Cercariæ_ move within it. The sac bursts, -and the brood escapes. But how is this? The children are by no means -the “very image” of their parent. They are not sacs, nor in the least -resembling sacs, as you see. (Fig. 6.) - -[Illustration: Fig. 4. - - A EMBRYO OF MONOSTOMUM MUTABILE. - B Cercaria sac, just set free. - - _a_ Mouth; _b_ Pigment spots; _c_ Sac.--Magnified.] - -They have tails, and suckers, and sharp boring instruments, with -other organs which their parent was without. To look at them you -would as soon suspect a shrimp to be the progeny of an oyster, as -these to be the progeny of the sac-animal. And what makes the paradox -more paradoxical is, that not only are the _Cercariæ_ unlike their -parent, but their parent was equally unlike its parent the embryo -of _Monostomum_ (compare fig. 4). However, if we pursue this family -history, we shall find the genealogy rights itself at last, and that -this Cercaria will develop in the body of some bird into a _Monostomum -mutabile_ like its ancestor. Thus the worm produces an animalcule, -which produces a sac-animal, which produces a Cercaria, which becomes a -worm exactly resembling its great-grandfather. - -[Illustration: Fig. 5. - -CERCARIA SAC. - - A Mouth; - - B Digestive tube; - - C A Cercaria newly formed. Four others are seen in different - stages.--Magnified.] - -[Illustration: Fig. 6. - -CERCARIA DEVELOPED. - - A Mouth; B, B, B Excretory organ; C Pigment spots; D Tail. -] - -One peculiarity in this history is that while the _Monostomum_ produces -its young in the usual way, the two _intermediate_ forms are produced -by a process of budding, analogous to that observed in plants. Plants, -as you know, are reproduced in two ways, from the seed, and from -the bud. For seed-reproduction, peculiar organs are necessary; for -bud-reproduction, there is no such differentiation needed: it is simply -an out-growth. The same is true of many animals: they also bud like -plants, and produce seeds (eggs) like plants. I have elsewhere argued -that the two processes are essentially identical; and that both are -but special forms of growth.[29] Not, however, to discuss so abstruse -a question here, let us merely note that the Monostomum, into which -the Cercaria will develop, produces eggs, from which young will issue; -the second generation is not produced from eggs, but by internal -budding; the third generation is likewise budded internally; but it, -on acquiring maturity, will produce eggs. For this maturity, it is -indispensable that the Cercaria should be swallowed by some bird or -animal; only in the digestive tube can it acquire its egg-producing -condition. How is it to get there? The ways are many; let us witness -one:-- - -In this watchglass of water we have several _Cercariæ_ swimming about. -To them we add three or four of those darting, twittering insects -which you have seen in every vase of pond-water, and have learned to -be the larvæ, or early forms, of the _Ephemeron_. The _Cercariæ_ cease -flapping the water with their impatient tails, and commence a severe -scrutiny of the strangers. When Odry, in the riotous farce, _Les -Saltimbanques_, finds a portmanteau, he exclaims, “_Une malle! ce doit -être à moi!_” (“Surely this _must_ belong to me!”) This seems to be the -theory of property adopted by the Cercaria: “An insect! surely this -belongs to me!” Accordingly every one begins creeping over the bodies -of the Ephemera, giving an interrogatory poke with the spine, which -will pierce the first soft place it can detect. Between the segments of -the insect’s armour a soft and pierceable spot is found; and now, lads, -to work! Onwards they bore, never relaxing in their efforts till a hole -is made large enough for them to slip in by elongating their bodies. -Once in, they dismiss their tails as useless appendages; and begin what -is called the process of _encysting_--that is, of rolling themselves up -into a ball, and secreting a mucus from their surface, which hardens -round them like a shell. Thus they remain snugly ensconced in the body -of the insect, which in time develops into a fly, hovers over the pond, -and is swallowed by some bird. The fly is digested, and the liberated -Cercaria finds itself in comfortable quarters, its shell is broken, and -its progress to maturity is rapid. - -Von Siebold’s description of another form of emigration he has -observed in parasites will be read with interest. “For a long time,” -he says, “the origin of the threadworm, known as _Filaria insectorum_, -that lives in the cavity of the bodies of adult and larval insects, -could not be accounted for. Shut up within the abdominal cavity -of caterpillars, grasshoppers, beetles, and other insects, these -parasites were supposed to originate by spontaneous generation, under -the influence of wet weather or from decayed food. Helminthologists -(students of parasitic worms) were obliged to content themselves with -this explanation, since they were unable to find a better. Those who -dissected these threadworms and submitted them to a careful inspection, -could not deny the probability, since it was clear that they contained -no trace of sexual organs. But on directing my attention to these -entozoa, I became aware of the fact that they were not true _Filariæ_ -at all, but belonged to a peculiar family of threadworms, embracing -the genera of _Gordius_ and _Mermis_. Furthermore, I convinced myself -that these parasites wander away when full-grown, boring their way from -within through any soft place in the body of their host, and creeping -out through the opening. These parasites do not emigrate because they -are uneasy, or because the caterpillar is sickly; but from that same -internal necessity which constrains the horsefly to leave the stomach -of the horse where he has been reared, or which moves the gadfly to -work its way out through the skin of the oxen. The larvæ of both these -insects creep forth in order to become chrysalises, and thence to -proceed to their higher and perfect condition. I have demonstrated -that the perfect, full-grown, but _sexless_ threadworms of insects are -in like manner moved by their desire to wander out of their previous -homes, in order to enter upon a new period of their lives, which ends -in the development of their sex. As they leave the bodies of their -hosts they fall to the ground, and crawl away into the deeper and -moister parts of the soil. Threadworms found in the damp earth, in -digging up gardens and cutting ditches, have often been brought to -me, which presented no external distinctions from the threadworms of -insects. This suggested to me that the wandering threadworms of insects -might instinctively bury themselves in damp ground, and I therefore -instituted a series of experiments by placing the newly-emigrated worms -in flower-pots filled with damp earth. To my delight I soon perceived -that they began to bore with their heads into the earth, and by degrees -drew themselves entirely in. For many months I kept the earth in the -flower-pots moderately moist, and on examining the worms from time to -time I found they had gradually attained their sex-development, and -eggs were deposited in hundreds. Towards the conclusion of winter I -could succeed in detecting the commencing development of the embryos in -these eggs. By the end of spring they were fully formed, and many of -them having left their shells were to be seen creeping about the earth. -I now conjectured that these young worms would be impelled by their -instincts to pursue a parasitic existence, and to seek out an animal -to inhabit and to grow to maturity in; and it seemed not improbable -that the brood I had reared would, like their parents, thrive best -in the caterpillar. In order, therefore, to induce my young brood to -immigrate, I procured a number of very small caterpillars which the -first spring sunshine had just called into life. For the purpose of -my experiment I filled a watch-glass with damp earth, taking it from -amongst the flower-pots where the threadworms had wintered. Upon -this I placed several of the young caterpillars.” The result was as -he expected; the caterpillars were soon bored into by the worms, and -served them at once as food and home.[30] - -Frogs and parasites, worms and infusoria--are these worth the attention -of a serious man? They have a less imposing appearance than planets -and asteroids, I admit, but they are nearer to us, and admit of being -more intimately known; and because they are thus accessible, they -become more important to us. The life that stirs within us is also -the life within them. It is for this reason, as I said at the outset, -that although man’s noblest study must always be man, there are other -studies less noble, yet not therefore ignoble, which must be pursued, -even if only with a view to the perfection of the noblest. Many men, -and those not always the ignorant, whose scorn of what they do not -understand is always ready, despise the labours which do not obviously -and directly tend to moral or political advancement. Others there are, -who, fascinated by the grandeur of Astronomy and Geology, or by the -immediate practical results of Physics and Chemistry, disregard all -microscopic research as little better than dilettante curiosity. But -I cannot think any serious study is without its serious value to the -human race; and I know that the great problem of Life can never be -solved while we are in ignorance of its simpler forms. Nor can anything -be more unwise than the attempt to limit the sphere of human inquiry, -especially by applying the test of immediate utility. All truths are -related; and however remote from our daily needs some particular truth -may seem, the time will surely come when its value will be felt. To -the majority of our countrymen during the Revolution, when the conduct -of James seemed of incalculable importance, there would have seemed -something ludicrously absurd in the assertion that the newly-discovered -differential calculus was infinitely more important to England and -to Europe than the fate of all the dynasties; and few things could -have seemed more remote from any useful end than this product of -mathematical genius; yet it is now clear to every one that the conduct -of James was supremely insignificant in comparison with this discovery. -I do not say that men were unwise to throw themselves body and soul -into the Revolution; I only say they would have been unwise to condemn -the researches of mathematicians. - -Let all who have a longing to study Nature in any of her manifold -aspects, do so without regard to the sneers or objections of men whose -tastes and faculties are directed elsewhere. From the illumination -of many minds on many points, Truth must finally emerge. Man is, in -Bacon’s noble phrase, the minister and interpreter of Nature; let him -be careful lest he suffer this ministry to sink into a priesthood, -and this interpretation to degenerate into an immovable dogma. The -suggestions of apathy, and the prejudices of ignorance, have at all -times inspired the wish to close the temple against new comers. Let us -be vigilant against such suggestions, and keep the door of the temple -ever open. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[21] The needful term Biology (from _Bios_, life, and _logos_, -discourse) is now becoming generally adopted in England, as in Germany. -It embraces all the separate sciences of Botany, Zoology, Comparative -Anatomy, and Physiology. - -[22] See EHRENBERG: _Microgeologie: das Erden und Felsen schaffende -Wirken des unsichtbar kleinen selbstständigen Lebens auf der Erde_. -1854. - -[23] CHARLES ROBIN: _Histoire Naturelle des Végétaux Parasites qui -croissent sur l’Homme et sur les Animaux Vivants_. 1853. - -[24] From _cilium_, a hair. - -[25] _Quain’s Anatomy._ By SHARPEY AND ELLIS. Sixth edition. I., p. -lxxiii. See also SHARPEY’S article, _Cilia_, in the _Cyclopædia of -Anatomy and Physiology_. - -[26] GOETHE: _Zur Morphologie_, 1807. VON BAER: _Zur -Entwickelungsgeschichte_, 1828. Part I., p. 158. - -[27] SWAMMERDAMM. _Bibel der Natur_, pp. 75-77. - -[28] By VON SIEBOLD. See his interesting work, _Ueber die -Band-und-Blasenwürmer_. It has been translated by HUXLEY, and appended -to the translation of KUECHENMEISTER _on Parasites_, published by the -Sydenham Society. - -[29] _Seaside Studies_, pp. 308, _sq._ - -[30] VON SIEBOLD: _Ueber Band-und-Blasenwürmer_. Translated by HUXLEY. - - - - - Father Prout’s Inaugurative Ode - - TO THE AUTHOR OF “VANITY FAIR.” - - - I. - - Ours is a faster, quicker age: - Yet erst at GOLDSMITH’S homely Wakefield Vicarage, - While Lady BLARNEY from the West End glozes - Mid the PRIMROSES, - Fudge! cries Squire THORNHILL, - Much to the wonder of young greenhorn MOSES. - Such word of scorn ill - Matches the “Wisdom Fair” thy whim proposes - To hold on CORNHILL. - - - II. - - With Fudge, or Blarney, or the “Thames on Fire!” - Treat not thy buyer; - But proffer good material-- - A genuine Cereal, - Value for twelvepence, and not dear at twenty. - Such wit replenishes thy Horn of Plenty! - - - III. - - Nor wit alone dispense, - But sense: - And with thy sparkling Xerez - Let us have Ceres. - Of loaf thou hast no lack, - Nor set, like SHAKESPEARE’S zany, forth, - With lots of sack, - Of bread one pennyworth. - - - IV. - - Sprightly, and yet sagacious, - Funny, yet farinaceous, - Dashing, and yet methodical-- - So may thy periodical, - On this auspicious morn, - Exalt its horn, - Thron’d on the HILL OF CORN! - - - V. - - Of aught that smacks of sect, surplice, or synod, - Be thy grain winnow’d! - Nor deign to win our laugh - With empty chaff. - Shun aught o’er which dullard or bigot gloats; - Nor seek our siller - With meal from TITUS OATES - Or flour of JOSEPH MILLER. - - - VI. - - There’s corn in Egypt still - (Pilgrim from Cairo to Cornhill!) - Give each his fill. - But all comers among - Treat best the young; - Fill the big brothers’ knapsacks from thy bins, - But slip the Cup of Love in BENJAMIN’S. - - - VII. - - Next as to those - Who bring their lumbering verse or ponderous prose - To where good SMITH AND ELDER - Have so long held their - Well-garnish’d Cornhill storehouse-- - Bid them not bore us. - Tell them instead - To take their load next street, the HALL OF LEAD! - - - VIII. - - Only one word besides-- - As he who tanneth hides - Stocketh with proper implements his tannery: - So thou, Friend! do not fail - To store a stout corn flail, - Ready for use, within thy Cornhill granary. - Of old there walked abroad, - Prompt to right wrongs, Caliph HAROUN AL RASHID: - Deal thus with Fraud, - Or Job or Humbug--thrash it! - - - IX. - - Courage, old Friend! long found - Firm at thy task, nor in fixt purpose fickle: - Up! choose thy ground, - Put forth thy shining sickle;-- - Shun the dense underwood - Of Dunce or Dunderhood: - But reap North, South, East, Far West, - The world-wide Harvest! - - - - - Our Volunteers. - - -The French nation has indisputably the most warlike propensities -of any in the world. Other countries make warlike preparations in -self-defence, for the maintenance of their own rights and possessions, -and to prevent any other power, or combination of powers, obtaining a -position menacing to their safety, or injurious to their liberties. -Their governments, when there are valid grounds for alarm, instil these -apprehensions into the minds of the people, who are soon roused to meet -the threatened danger. But the unremitting pursuit of the French nation -is military glory: no government of that country can exist without -ministering to it. France is now armed to the teeth, and ready to do -battle for any cause--even “for an idea.” - -England is the nation which, perhaps sooner than any other, may be -called upon to check her in the indulgence of this propensity; and this -country also offers more points against which aggressive operations can -be carried out. Hence it is natural that the preparations of France -should be made chiefly with reference to a contest with Great Britain; -and these preparations have now arrived at such formidable proportions -that it would be infatuation in us to neglect the means of resistance. - -The strongest evidence in support of this hypothesis is to be found -in the fact that the most extraordinary preparations which have -been gradually but rapidly made by the French Government, at a vast -expense--namely, its naval and coast armaments--can be directed against -no other power but England. It does not necessarily follow that any -aggressive measures are positively contemplated; but it is not the less -essential for us to maintain a corresponding force, available not only -against invasion, should it be attempted, but strong enough to protect -our commerce by securing the freedom of the seas, and thus preventing -this country from being reduced to a subordinate power. - -British statesmen know and declare, and the nation feels, that it is -essential to the maintenance of our possessions, our commerce, and our -influence, that we should have a preponderating naval force. Other -governments may demur to this, and may even be disposed to dispute the -point, as France appears to be now preparing to do. It then becomes -a question of national power and resources. This is an unfortunate -alternative, but it is one which will not admit of compromise or -arbitration: _we_ consider an absolute superiority on the seas -essential to the safety of our shores, the prosperity of our commerce, -and the security of our colonies; _they_ manifest a determination to -contest our maritime supremacy, and to create a force which shall give -them even a preponderating influence. - -Let us put the case in what may be deemed the legitimate view, -repudiating altogether any feeling of national animosity or prejudice. -Whatever may be the result of the impending struggle for naval -superiority--which does not altogether depend upon numerical force, -but may be greatly influenced by the proficiency of either side in -employing the newly-invented implements and modes of warfare--it -must be conceded that we cannot expect our superiority will be so -absolute as to enable us to trust entirely to our “wooden walls,” or to -defensive armaments afloat: we must have an ample array of land forces -to protect our homes, if menaced by the vast armies of France, which -are constantly maintained in a state of full equipment and readiness. - -Large armaments maintained during times of peace are repugnant to -the feelings and good sense of the English nation; and yet if other -nations, less strongly animated by industrial impulses and the -principles of political economy, will accumulate immense powers of -aggression, we must, in self-defence, maintain efficient means of -resisting them. Patriotic feeling and high spirit in the population, -even though aided by abundance of arms and ammunition, will not now, as -in olden times, suffice. Soldiership is become a scientific profession; -and an apprenticeship to the art of war, with skill and experience in -every branch of it, are absolutely necessary to oppose with success a -well-trained and disciplined force. - -Our difficulties in the way of self-preservation are materially -increased by the nature of our institutions and our feelings of -personal independence. All other great nations in Europe have a -power of compulsory enlistment; we have not: if we had, our standing -forces for army and navy might be more moderate,--if we only retained -efficacious means of rapid organization and equipment. According to -our system, however, it is so long before we can procure the necessary -number of men for the war establishment, that our only safety must -consist in a much greater amount of permanent forces. In short, our -purse must pay for our pride. - -The volunteer system, however, tends, in some degree, to remedy this -disadvantage, and will become more and more valuable in proportion as -it shall conform itself gradually to such arrangements as will make our -volunteers efficient for acting with our regular forces. - -The first and prevalent idea from which the volunteer system sprang was -of a _levée en masse_; that every man animated by British pluck and -spirit (and they would number hundreds of thousands) should be well -practised in the use of the rifle, and, in case of invasion, should -turn out to oppose the enemy, to line the hedges, hang upon the flank -and rear of the invading force, and cut it to pieces. - -That our volunteers, who have nobly come forward spontaneously, without -any prompting from government, would be ready to devote their lives, -as they are devoting their time and energies, to the defence of their -country against invasion, no one who appreciates the English character -will doubt; but that such a heterogeneous body of men, if opposed to -a highly-trained and disciplined force of veteran soldiers, would be -able to repel the attack of an army, is now generally admitted to be a -fallacy; and it would be doing injustice to the intelligence and good -sense of Englishmen to blink the truth, which must be obvious to every -soldier who has had experience of actual warfare. - -Bodies of civilians, however courageous and well drilled, would be ill -calculated to bear the hardships and fatigues of a soldier’s life; nor -could they be relied upon, even as a matter of numbers: a rainy night -or two in the open fields, and occasional short supplies of food, would -thin their ranks prodigiously. It cannot be supposed that men of any -class or nation, however brave, suddenly leaving comfortable homes and -in-door pursuits, could endure that exposure and privation which is -required of soldiers--men selected for their hardy constitutions and -well-knit frames, and trained to implicit obedience, and habituated to -act together. Composed of men of different descriptions and habits, -without military discipline and organization, they would be wanting -in cohesion and unity of action; or if each man or small party acted -on individual impulse, their efforts would be unavailing to arrest -the progress of an army advancing in solid masses, like some vast and -complex machine animated by life and motion. Panics would be rife -amongst them, and but few of the bravest even would stand when they -heard the action gaining on their flanks and rear. Moreover, no general -would know how to deal with numbers of them under his command, for fear -of his dispositions being deranged by their proceedings; nor could -any commissariat or other department be prepared to provide for so -uncertain and fluctuating a body. - -A confidence in the efficiency of an armed population to resist -the invasion of their country by regular armies has been created -by reference to history; and the examples of the United States, of -the Tyrol, of Spain, and others, have been triumphantly quoted; but -an investigation into the circumstances of each case will show how -greatly they all differ from such circumstances as would attend an -attack upon England. In the cases cited, either the country was wild -and mountainous, without communications and resources, the invading -army small, or the contest greatly prolonged: rarely, if ever, has -the invader been thoroughly checked _in his first progress_; but when -forced to break into detachments and to act in small bodies, he has, by -a spirited and energetic population, been harassed beyond his strength, -and thus _eventually_ forced to abandon the attempt. - -It being evident, then, that a mere rising in mass of the population -would be unavailing, and even mischievous, leading to a lamentable -waste of life, and encouraging the invaders in proportion as the -defenders were discomfited, we have now to consider the best means of -utilizing the present volunteer movement, which assumes for its basis -some degree of organization and training. - -Government prudently abstained from any interference with the movement, -or from involving itself in any undertaking to organize the volunteers; -for that would have led, not only to great and indefinite expenses, but -to the abstracting of available resources from the established forces -of the country, and also to other inconveniences, without, as yet, any -reliable and adequate advantages in prospect. The movement being thus -left to its own impulses, a large number of gentlemen, and others in -sufficiently easy circumstances, determined to enrol themselves, in -different localities, into self-supporting corps of riflemen. Their -determination was most spirited and praiseworthy, and government, -without pledging itself to any fixed or great amount of support, now -affords, in many ways, aid and direction to the movement, without too -minute an interference in its essentially voluntary arrangements. - -Thus we have already many thousands of stout hearts, constituting -an _impromptu_ armed force, at little cost to government, advancing -in organization and exercises, having arms and accoutrements, and -above all, making preparation for thoroughly practising with the -rifle--their strongest desire being to become first-rate shots. Here -is a mass of most superb material; but we would earnestly impress -upon the volunteers, and upon the country, not to rely too much upon -stout hearts and good shots: much else is needful. It is quite a -mistake to suppose that mere perfection in firing at a mark will make -a good rifleman for the field. Volunteers, to be efficient in action, -must form a component part of an army. Every part of an army in the -field must be well in hand of the generals in command--light infantry -and riflemen must be equal to all movements, in compact as well as -dispersed order, and in the several combinations of the two. By this -alone will they be really formidable, and by this alone will they -acquire a confidence and steadiness which mere innate courage can never -give. - -In order to act as riflemen and light infantry conjointly with -regular troops, volunteers will require the highest possible training -as soldiers. Ordinary infantry are put together and kept together, -and--unlike those who must act more independently and with greater -skill--are always under the eye and hand of the officer who directs -the movement. In the confusion of action, and amidst inequalities of -ground and varying circumstances, light troops are very much at a loss, -until, by practice, they acquire a steadiness which is the result of a -thorough knowledge of the business and of active exercise in it. By the -term “acting as light infantry and riflemen” is not meant a system of -irregular or guerilla warfare, for which it may be readily conceived -that a volunteer force of citizens is entirely unfit. - -It is to be hoped that our volunteers will not listen to their -flatterers who would persuade them that they will make efficient -irregulars. No one who considers the composition of these bodies, and -the habits and pursuits of the classes from which they spring, can -seriously suppose that they would make anything of the kind. Neither -the nature of this country, nor the occupations of its inhabitants, -are favourable for an irregular system of warfare; nor would the rapid -field operations consequent upon an invasion afford much opportunity -for bringing irregular forces into play, even if we possessed the best -in the world. - -In opposition to these views, it will be said that the universal -employment of the rifle has effected a revolution in warfare, and that -our riflemen, sheltered at a distance behind hedges and trees, would -annihilate the enemy’s artillery and paralyze his operations. To this -it may be answered that the enemy will employ riflemen for the same -purpose, who will cover his artillery and produce an equal effect -upon our own; that new systems of warfare are met with new systems of -tactics, and that the advantage is always left with the highest-trained -troops. In whatever order numbers of men may be brought into action, -success will always attend that party which, _cæteris paribus_, brings -the greatest number to bear upon a given point; and this can be -effected only by the organization and discipline of regular troops. - -Let us hope, then, that the volunteers will earnestly practise -those more complicated exercises which render light infantry the -highest-trained body in an army. For this purpose they should, after -being pretty well grounded in their business, give themselves up for a -few weeks’ consecutive service at one of the great camps; this would -give them a much better insight into the nature of the service, by -which men of their intelligence would greatly profit. It is probable -that many individuals in each corps would not be able to attend for -such a long period; still, if there were a large party present, a tone -of information on the real duties of a campaign would be instilled into -the body as a whole, which would be most serviceable. - -Another advantage which would attend this occasional service of the -volunteers at the camps would consist in their gradually habituating -themselves to long marches, and to carrying a knapsack; both of which -are matters of deep importance for rendering efficient service in the -field: for, as Marshal Saxe truly remarks, the success of an army -depends more upon the judicious use made of the legs than of the arms -of the soldiers. - -Apprehensions have been entertained that our volunteers, composed, -as they will be, of men accustomed to the comforts and conveniences -of life, would, however animated by daring for fight, be disgusted -not merely with the hardships, but (as compared with their usual -habits) the indignities of a common soldier’s life, such as the hard -fare, the necessary but menial occupations of cooking, the care and -cleaning of their clothes and arms, and the discomfort of being -huddled together in masses in tents, or houses, if they have the good -fortune to obtain either. But they will, it is to be hoped, have well -considered that such disagreeables are inevitable, and have made up -their minds to bear with what will be, probably, the hardest task for -them; considering, also, that it would hardly be for any long duration. -They will recollect that on many parts of the Continent, young men -of the easiest circumstances, and of rank and station in society, -serve an apprenticeship in the regular army as privates, and submit -to many of the discomforts of a private soldier’s life, even without -the excitement of a state of warfare. There is more danger of the -volunteers failing through want of physical hardihood to endure the -fatigue of long marches, exposure to the weather, and the casualties -of service in the field; and, therefore, preparatory service in a camp -would be needful, not only to make them good soldiers, but to test -their powers of endurance: for it should be borne in mind that a -robust frame and strong constitution are essential to the efficiency -of the soldier; and wanting these physical requisites, the best shot -would soon become incapacitated, and consequently an incumbrance to the -service. - -In some districts, the subscriptions raised for the general expenses -of the volunteer corps are allowed to extend to aid the equipment of -men of insufficient means to provide for themselves. This will have a -most beneficial effect; for such men will mostly be of a hardy class -and accustomed to muscular activity or out-door occupations; they will -be selected because they possess the proper qualifications; and many of -them subsequently, with all their military acquirements, may join the -established army. In proportion as this system shall be extended, will -the advantages resulting from the volunteer system be increased. - -Another very beneficial effect might be produced--and will probably -arise out of the spirit of the rifle corps--in the establishment of -rifle clubs for the practice of rifle-shooting as a recreation, with -other out-door sports and games; more especially if these can be -encouraged, so as to become general among that class of young men from -which recruits are obtained for the army. Whatever may have been said -against too much faith being placed in good marksmen, as the _only_ -essential attribute for our defenders, most indisputably that army -which, equally well regulated in other points, shall be much superior -generally in the art of rifle-shooting, will have an enormous advantage -over its opponent; and even in a greater degree than is usually -supposed. - -There is one class of volunteers, the formation of which will be -attended with unexceptionable advantages; and that is localized bodies -on the coast for service near their own homes. These may be either -artillery or infantry, or better still, both combined: that is, -infantry accustomed to exercise in the service of guns in battery. They -will be always at their homes, and at their habitual occupations, till -the period of action shall arrive; and a very few hours of occasional -evening exercise will be sufficient, particularly during peace time, -to afford a basis of organization for bodies which may be then rapidly -made very efficient during war. As their service will be chiefly -in batteries, or in fortified posts--or if in the open field, only -in greatly superior numbers, and within confined limits, to oppose -desultory landings--they will not need the field equipment, nor that -refined knowledge and practice so necessary in every part of an army -in a campaign. Their dress may be of a plain description, such as an -artisan’s or gamekeeper’s jacket, and a foraging cap, which, though of -some uniform pattern, may be suitable for ordinary wear. By such means, -our coasts may be powerfully protected from any but very formidable -efforts against them, at the smallest expense and waste of resources; -and at the same time, these bodies will supply the place of regular -troops, for which they will form an efficient substitute. - -In advocating the expediency of rendering the volunteer system -attractive among the labouring classes, as, generally speaking, the -most robust and hardy portion of the population, we must not be -considered as implying any doubt of their thorough good feeling in the -cause; it is absolutely necessary to stimulate, by some substantial -recompence or boon, the exertions of those who are living, as it were, -from hand to mouth, and on the smallest means. The inducement may be -very moderate; still it should be such as to make the service in some -degree popular and advantageous, and cause men who may be rejected or -discharged to feel it as a punishment or misfortune. - -Whatever may be said in the way of general considerations affecting -the volunteer system, will admit of exceptions. Thus many of the -difficulties in the way of the efficiency of volunteer corps for -service in the field will be greatly lessened in the case of those -which may be chiefly composed of young men of active habits, and not -yet settled in life: such as university corps, who would, without -doubt, display a degree of hardihood, spirit, and intelligence not -to be surpassed by any troops. And so with regard to the local -bodies. Such corps as the dockyard volunteers, at all those great -establishments, public and private, should be replaced on an improved -system;--a system which should avoid expense and encroachment on a -valuable part of their time, which were the failings of their original -organization, and occasioned their being broken up. - -The noble spirit which originated the volunteer movement is one of -which the nation may justly feel proud; it exhibits and fosters a -patriotic and military spirit in the country, which will render us more -fit than any other people to cope with a powerful enemy. The moral -effect of this national movement will influence other countries; it -will dissipate the erroneous idea that the English are only a trading, -and not a warlike people, and make them more cautious of attacking us. - -In actual service, the volunteers will be valuable behind works; thus -releasing a corresponding number of the regular troops from garrison -service: but it cannot be too strongly impressed upon them, that -unless they will submit to the necessary training as soldiers, and are -complete in organization as infantry, no general in the world will have -any confidence in them as a field force. The occasional embodiment -of our volunteers at some of the great camps, as before recommended, -would appear the most available means of training them for general -service. It would also have another good effect, by demonstrating -to many who are now carried away by their enthusiasm, how far they -may be really calculated or prepared for the necessary trials and -sacrifices incidental upon taking the field in the emergency. It will -then be perceived by many that their age, want of physical stamina, or -inability to dispense with habitual comforts which may be absolutely -necessary to them, would render them totally unequal to the task they -would willingly undertake. It would be far better that these should be -weeded from the field corps of volunteers, and not remain to give a -false appearance of their strength for actual service. - -Lastly, there may be some who, on reflection, must be aware that -certain family ties, or private concerns, may imperatively forbid their -joining the service at the last moment, and it would be far better -that they should withdraw betimes from the engagement. For it should -be borne in mind that these bodies are _volunteers_, in the strictest -sense of the term; their presence or continuance in the field cannot -be constrained. The effort to bear all the trials and hardships of a -campaign requires a patience and endurance which will yield, even where -there is thorough ardour in the cause, and great personal courage, -unless supported by physical strength. The Volunteer Corps is a -service in which the country must trust entirely to the honour of the -individuals composing it; and certainly, those who shall stand the test -will be peculiarly entitled to the gratitude of the nation. - -But while deprecating the employment in the field of any volunteers who -are not hardy and trained soldiers, or who have households to protect -and business to attend to, we must not be supposed to recommend the -withdrawal from the ranks of all who are not available for actual -service with regular troops: far from it. There is not a man who has -been drilled as a volunteer but may be serviceable to the community in -a variety of ways at home, by supplying the place of regular soldiers -in mounting guard as sentries, acting as “orderlies” for transmitting -orders between the government officers and head-quarters, as assistants -in the hospital service, as extra clerks in the commissariat and other -departments, and in serving as a military police. Indeed good service -might be rendered to the country by gentlemen of character, ability, -and intelligence, sufficiently _au fait_ to the business of a soldier -to execute with military precision and promptitude such duties as would -not involve any greater amount of fatigue and exposure than a man of -average health and strength could sustain without injury: they would -form a bodyguard, composed of fathers of families and the younger -and less robust of the volunteers, for the protection of their homes -and maintaining the peace of cities and towns; and competent to fill -offices of trust in connection with the military and civil authorities. -The country would thus derive the full benefit of the services of every -volunteer in the kingdom; and no man who had entered the ranks but -would have the satisfaction of knowing that he was serving his Queen -and Country in the most effective way. - - - - - A Man of Letters of the Last Generation. - - -There are fashions in books, as there are in the cut of clothes, or -the building of houses; and if from the great library of our race we -take down the representative volumes, we shall find that successive -ages differ almost as much as the several countries of the world. The -one half of the century scarcely knows what the other half has done, -save through its lasting works, among which books alone possess the -gift of speech. Yet the guild of literature properly knows no bounds -of space or time. If the tricks of craft like those of society belong -to the passing day, literature has been, beyond all other human -influences, enduring and continuous in the main current of its spirit; -and each period has been the stronger if it has recognized so much -of its possessions as was inherited from its predecessor, including -the power to conquer more. A powerful sense of brotherhood clings to -all the veritable members of the fraternity, whose highest diploma is -posthumous; and we cannot see the lingering representatives of a past -day depart, without feeling that one of the great family has gone. A -writer whom we have lost in the year just closed peculiarly associated -past and present, by his own hopeful work for “progress” towards the -future, and his affectionate lingering with the past, and above all by -the strong personal feeling which he brought to his work. LEIGH HUNT -belonged essentially to the earlier portion of the nineteenth century; -but, born in the year when Samuel Johnson died, living among the old -poets, and labouring to draw forth the spirit which the first half has -breathed into the latter half of the century, he may be said to have -been one of those true servitors of the library who unite all ages with -the one we live in. The representative man of a school gone by, in his -history we read the introduction to our own. - -Isaac, the father of Leigh Hunt, was the descendant of one of the -oldest settlers in luxurious Barbadoes. He was sent to develop better -fortunes by studying at college in Philadelphia, where he _un_settled -in life; for, having obtained some repute as an advocate, and married -the daughter of the stern merchant, Stephen Shewell, against her -father’s pleasure, Isaac contumaciously opposed the sovereign people -by espousing the side of royalty, and fled with broken fortunes to -England. Here he found not much royal gratitude, much popularity -as a preacher in holy orders--taken as a refuge from want,--but no -preferment. With tutorships, and help from relatives, he managed to -rub on; he sent Leigh, the first of his sons born in England, to the -school of Christ Hospital, and he lived long enough to see him an -established writer. Isaac was a man rather under than above the middle -stature, fair in complexion, smoothly handsome, so engaging in address -as to be readily and undeservedly suspected of insincerity, and in most -things utterly unlike his son. His wife, Mary Shewell, a tall, slender -woman, with Quaker breeding, a dark thoughtful complexion, a heart -tender beyond the wont of the world, and a conscience tenderer still, -contributed more than the father to mould the habits and feelings of -the son. School and books did the rest. His earlier days, save during -the long semi-monastic confinement of the Blue-coat School, were passed -in uncertain alternations between the care-stricken home and the more -luxurious houses of wealthier relatives and friends. In his time -Christ Hospital was the very nursery for a scholarly scholar. It was -divided into the commercial, the nautical, and the grammar schools; -in all, the scholars had hard fare, and much church service; and in -the grammar school plenty of Greek and Latin. Leigh’s antecedents and -school training destined him for the church; a habit of stammering, -which disappeared as he grew up, was among the adverse accidents -which reserved him for the vocation to which he was born--Literature. -But before he left the unsettled roof of his parents, the youth had -been to other schools besides Christ Hospital. His father had been -a royalist flying from infuriated republicans, and doomed to learn -in the metropolitan country the common mistrust of kings. He left -America a lawyer, to become a clergyman here; and entered the pulpit a -Church of England-man, to become, after the mild example of his wife, -a Universalist. Born after his mother had suffered from the terrors -of the revolution, and a severe attack of jaundice, Leigh inherited -an anxious, speculative temperament; to be the sport of unimaginative -brothers, who terrified him by personating the hideous “Mantichora,” -about which he had tremblingly read and talked, and of schoolfellows, -with their ghostly traditions and rough, summary, practical satire. He -had been made acquainted with poverty, yet familiarized to the sight -of ease and refined luxury. His father, if “socially” inclined, yet -read eloquently and critically; his mother read earnestly, piously, -and charitably; reading was the business of his school, reading was -his recreation; and at the age of fifteen, he threw off his blue coat, -a tall stripling, with West Indian blood, a Quaker conscience, and a -fancy excited rather than disciplined by his scholastic studies, to put -on the lax costume of the day, and be tried in the dubious ordeal of -its laxer customs. - -His severest trial arose from the vanities, rather than the vices to -which such a youth would be exposed. He had already been sufficiently -“in love,”--now with the anonymous sister of a schoolfellow, next -with his fair cousin Fanny, then with the enchanting Almeria,--to be -shielded from the worst seductions that can beset a youth; and he was -early engaged to the lady whom he married in 1809. But the vanities -beset him in a shape of unwonted power. The stripling, whose essays -the terrible Boyer, of the Blue-coat School, had crumpled up, became -the popular young author of published poems, and not much later the -stern critic of the _News_, whose castigations made actors wince and -playwrights launch prologues at him. Thenceforward the vicissitudes -of his life, save in the inevitable vicissitudes of mortality, -were professional rather than personal; though he always threw his -personality into his profession. He tried a clerkship under his brother -Stephen, an attorney; and a clerkship in the War Office, under the -patronage of the dignified Mr. Addington; but finally he left the -desk, legal or official, for the desk literary, to devote himself -to the _Examiner_, set up in 1808 with his brother John. He went to -prison for two years in 1813, rather than forfeit his consistency as -a political writer. It was as a vindicator of liberal principles in -politics, sociology (word then unused), and art, that he attracted the -friendship of Byron and Shelley; it was to accomplish the literary -speculation of the _Liberal_ that he set out for Italy in 1821; it was -to study Italy and the Italians, with a view to “improve” that and -other “subjects,” that he stopped in Italy till the autumn of 1825. -He returned to England to try his fortune with books in prose and -verse, in periodicals of his own or others’; and it was in the midst -of unrelinquished work that he placidly laid himself down to sleep -in August, 1859,--his last words of anxiety being for Italy and her -enlarging hopes, his latest breath uttering inquiries and messages -of affection. This is essentially a literary life; but it is given -to a literature in which there _is_ life,--for Leigh Hunt, although -he dwelled and passed his days in the library, was no “book-worm,” -divorced from human existence, its natural instincts and affections. -On the contrary, he carried into his study a large heart and a strong -pulse; to him the books spoke in the voice of his fellow-men, audible -from the earliest ages, and he loved to be followed into his retreat by -friends from the outer world. - -Leigh Hunt certainly was not driven to this little-broken retirement -by the want of qualities which are attractive in society, or by -the tastes that render society attractive; but under the force of -remarkable contradictions in his character, he was often fain to -waive what he desired and could easily have--“letting _I would not_ -wait upon _I may_,” with an apparent caprice most exasperating to the -bystander. He professed readiness for “whatever is going forward,” -seemed eager to meet any approaching pleasure; and then hung back with -a coy, reluctant, anxious delay, that forbore its own satisfaction -altogether. Probably this apparent contradiction may be traced to his -origin and nurture. According to all evidence respecting his immediate -progenitors, he was little of a Hunt, save in his gaiety and avowed -love of “the pleasurable.” His natural energy, which showed itself in -a robust frame, a powerful voice, a great capacity for endurance, and -a strong will, seems to have been inherited from Stephen Shewell, the -stern, headstrong, and implacable. From the Bickleys, possibly--the -gallant Knight Banneret of King William’s Irish wars will pardon -the doubt--his mother transmitted her own material tendency to an -over-conscientious, reflective, hesitating temperament, which drew -back from any action not manifestly and imperatively dictated by duty. -The son showed all these contradictory traits even in his aspect and -bearing. - -He was tall rather than otherwise,--five feet ten inches and a half -when measured for the St. James’s Volunteers; though, in common with -men whose length is in the body rather than the legs, his height -diminished as he advanced in life. He was remarkably straight and -upright in his carriage, with a short, firm step, and a cheerful, -almost dashing approach,--smiling, breathing, and making his voice -heard in little inarticulate ejaculations as he met a friend, in an -irrepressible satisfaction at the encounter that not unfrequently -conveyed high gratification to the arriver who was thus greeted. He -had straight black hair, which he wore parted in the centre; a dark -but not pale complexion; features compounded between length and a -certain irregularity of outline, characteristic of the American mould; -black eyebrows, firmly marking the edge of a brow, over which was a -singularly upright, flat, white forehead, and under which beamed a pair -of eyes dark, brilliant, reflecting, gay, and kind, with a certain -look of observant humour, that suggested an idea of what is called -slyness when it is applied to children or girls; for he had _not_ the -aspect given to him in one of his portraits, of which he said that “the -fellow looked as if he had stolen a tankard.” He had a head massive -and tall, and larger than most men’s,--Byron, Shelley, and Keats wore -hats which he could not put on; but it was not out of proportion to the -figure, its outlines being peculiarly smooth and devoid of “bumps.” His -upper lip was long, his mouth large and hard in the flesh; his chin -retreating and gentle like a woman’s. His sloping shoulders, not very -wide, almost concealed the ample proportions of his chest; though that -was of a compass which not every pair of arms could span. He looked -like a man cut out for action,--a soldier; but he shrank from physical -contest, telling you that his sight was short, and that he was “timid.” -We shall understand that mistaken candour better when we have examined -his character a little further. Yet he did shrink from using his -vigorous faculties, even in many ways. Nature had gifted him with an -intense dramatic perception, an exquisite ear for music, and a voice of -extraordinary compass, power, flexibility, and beauty. It extended from -the C below the line to the F sharp above: there were no “passages” -that he could not execute; the quality was sweet, clear, and ringing: -he would equally have sung the music of _Don Giovanni_ or _Sarastro_, -of _Oroveso_ or _Maometto Secondo_. Yet nature had not endowed him with -some of the qualities needed for the practical musician,--he had no -aptitude for mechanical contrivance, but faint enjoyment of power for -its own sake. He dabbled on the pianoforte; delighted to repeat airs -pleasing or plaintive; and if he would occasionally fling himself into -the audacious revels of _Don Giovanni_, he preferred to be _Lindoro_ or -_Don Ottavio_; and still more, by the help of his falsetto, to dally -with the tender treble of the _Countess_ in _Figaro_, or _Polly_ in -_Beggars’ Opera_. This waiving of the potential, this preference for -the lightsome and tender, ran through all his character,--save when -duty bade him draw upon his sterner resources; and then out came the -inflexibility of the Shewell and the unyielding determination of the -Hunts. But as soon as the occasion passed, the manner passed with it; -and the man whose solemn, clear-voiced indignation had made the very -floor and walls vibrate was seen tenderly and blandly extenuating the -error of his persecutor and gaily confessing to a community of mistake. - -While he was yet at school, Hunt was pronounced by one of his -schoolfellows a “fool for refining”--that is, one who was a fool -in his judgment through a hair-splitting anxiety to be precise. A -boy all his life, this leading foible of his boyhood attended him -throughout. He has been likened to Hamlet,--only it was a Hamlet who -was not a prince, but a hard-working man. The defect was increased -in Leigh Hunt, as it evidently was in the prince, by a certain -imperfection in understanding, appreciating, or thoroughly mastering -the material, tangible, physical part of nature. This, again, is -inconsistent with his own account of himself, but it will be confirmed -by a close critical scrutiny of his writings. Over-sensitive, he was -exquisitely conscious of such physical perceptions as he had. He was -passionately fond of music, which he took to as we have seen. He was -keenly impressed by painting and by colours,--which he defined with -uncertainty, unless they were, what he liked them to be, very intense. -He revelled in the aspect of the country,--but needed literary, poetic, -or personal association, or habit, to help the appreciation of the -landscape. His animation, his striking appearance, his manly voice, -its sweetness and flexibility, the exhaustless fancy to which it gave -utterance, his almost breathlessly tender manner in saying tender -things, his eyes deep, bright, and genial, with a dash of cunning, his -delicate yet emphatic homage,--all made him a “dangerous” man among -women;--and he shrank back from the danger, the quickest to take alarm; -confessing that “to err is human,” as if he _had_ erred in any but the -most theoretical or imaginative sense! Remind him of his practical -virtue, and, to disprove your too favourable construction, he would -give you a sermon on the sins of the fancy, hallowed by quotations -from the Bible--of which he was as much master as any clergyman--and -illustrated by endless quotations from the poets in all languages, with -innumerable biographical anecdotes of the said poets, to prove the -fearful peril of the first step; and _also_ to prove that, though men, -they were not bad men;--that it is not for us to cast the first stone, -and that, probably, if they had been different, their poetry would have -suffered, to the grievous loss of the library and mankind. - -He inculcated the study of minor pleasures with so much industry, -that his writings have caused him to be taken for a minor voluptuary. -His special apparatus for the luxury consisted in some old cloak to -put about his shoulders when cold--which he allowed to slip off while -reading or writing; in a fire--“to toast his feet”--which he let out -many times in the day, with as many apologies to the servant for the -trouble; and in a bill of fare, which he preposterously restricted -for a fancied delicacy of stomach, and a fancied poison in everything -agreeable, and which he could scarcely taste for a natural dulness of -palate. Unable to perceive the smell of flowers, he habitually strove -to imagine it. The Epicurean in theory was something like a Stoic in -practice; and he would break off an “article” on the pleasures of -feasting to ease his hunger, literally, with a supper of bread; turning -round to enjoy by proxy, on report, the daintier food which he had -provided for others. Eyeing the meat in another’s plate, he would quote -Peter Pindar-- - - “On my life, I could turn glutton, - On such pretty-looking mutton;” - -but would still, with the relish of Lazarillo de Tormes, stick to his -own “staff of life,” and quaff his water, jovially repeating after -Armstrong, “Nought like the simple element dilutes.” - -Now, most excellent reader, are you in something of a condition to -understand the man’s account of his own failings--his “improvidence” -and his “timidity.” He had no grasp of things material; but -exaggerating his own defects, he so hesitated at any arithmetical -effort, that he could scarcely count. He has been seen unable to find -3_s._ 6_d._ in a drawer full of half-crowns and shillings, since he -could not see the “sixpence.” Hence his stewardship was all performed -by others. He laboured enormously,--making fresh work out of everything -he did; for he would not mention anything, however parenthetically, -without “verifying” it. Hence it is true that he had scarcely time -for stewardship, unless he had neglected his work and wages as a -master-workman. He saw nothing until it had presented itself to him in -a sort of literary, theoretical aspect, and hence endowed his friends, -all round, with fictitious characters founded on fact. One was the -thrifty housewife, another the steady man of business, a third the -poetic enthusiast--and so on. And he _acted_ on these estimates, until -sometimes he found out his mistake, and confessed that he “had been -deceived.” The discovery was sometimes as imaginary as the original -estimate, and friends, whose sterling qualities he could not overrate, -have seen him, for the discovery of his mistake in regard to some -fancied grace, avert his eye in cold “disappointment.” He made the -same supposititious discoveries and estimates with himself. His mother -had the jaundice before he was born; he had unquestionably a tendency -to bilious affections; in the Greek poet’s account of Hercules and -the Serpents, the more timid, because mortal, child, who is aghast at -the horrid visitors sent by the relentless Juno, is called, as Leigh -Hunt translated the oft-repeated quotation, “the extremely bilious -Iphiclus;” and being bilious, Leigh Hunt set himself down as “timid.” -He had probably felt his heart beat at the approach of danger, been -startled by a sudden noise, or hesitated “to snuff a candle with his -fingers,” which Charles the Fifth said would make any man know fear. -Yet he had braved persecution in the refusal to fag at school; was an -undaunted though not skilful rider; a swimmer not unacquainted with -drowning risks; undismayed, except for others, when passing the roaring -torrent at the broad ford,--when braving shipwreck in the British -Channel, or the thunder-hurricane in the Mediterranean; he instantly -confronted the rustic boors who challenged him on the Thames, or in the -Apennines, and stood unmoved to face the sentence of a criminal court, -though the sentence was to be the punishment he most dreaded--the -prison. - -Such was the character of the man who came from school to be the -critic, first of the drama, then of literature and politics; and then -to be a workman in the schools where he had criticized. He brought to -his labours great powers, often left latent, and used only in their -superficial action; a defective perception of the tangible part of -the subject; an imagination active, but overrating its own share -in the business; an impulsive will, checked by an over-scrupulous, -over-conscientious habit of “refining;” a nice taste, and an -overwhelming sympathy with every form and aspect of human enjoyment, -suffering, or aspiration. His public conduct, his devotion to “truth,” -whether in politics or art, won him admiration and illustrious -friendships. In a society of many severed circles he formed one centre, -around which were gathered Lamb, Ollier, Barnes, Mitchell, Shelley, -Keats, Byron, Hazlitt, Blanchard, Forster, Carlyle, and many more, -departed or still living; some of them centres of circles in which -Leigh Hunt was a wanderer, but all of them, in one degree or other, -attesting their substantial value for his character. They influenced -him, he influenced them, and through them the literature and politics -of the century, more largely, perhaps, than any one of them alone. Let -us see, then, what it was that he did. - -Even in the _News_ of 1805, when he was barely of age, and when he -wrote with the dashing confidence of a youth wielding the combined -ideas of Sam Johnson and Voltaire, the “damned boy,” as Kemble called -him, established a repute for cultivation, consistency, taste, and -independence; and he originated a style of contemporary criticism -unknown to the newspaper press. In other words, he brought the -standards of criticism which had before been confined to the lecture -of academies or the library, into the daily literature which aids in -shaping men’s judgments as they rise. - -We have seen how, under a name borrowed from the Tory party, the -_Examiner_ was established, with little premeditation, a literary -ambition, and the hope of realizing a modest wage for the work done. It -found literature, poetry especially, sunk to the feeblest, tamest, and -most artificial of graces,--the reaction upon the long-felt influence -left by the debauchery of the Stuarts and the vulgarer coarseness -of the early Georges. It found English monarchs and statesmen again -forgetting the great lessons of the British constitution, with the -press slavishly acquiescing. In 1808, an Irish Major had a “case” -against the Horse Guards, of most corrupt and illicit favouritism: -the _Examiner_ published the case, and sustained it. In 1809, a -change of ministry was announced: the _Examiner_ hailed “the crowd of -blessings that might be involved in such a change;” adding, “Of all -monarchs, indeed, since the Revolution, the successor of George the -Third will have the finest opportunity of becoming nobly popular.” -In 1812, on St. Patrick’s day, a loyal band of guests significantly -abstained from paying the usual courtesy to the toast of the Prince -Regent, and coughed down Mr. Sheridan, who tried to speak up for his -royal and forgetful friend. A writer in a morning paper supplied the -omitted homage in a poem more ludicrous for its wretched verse than -for the fulsome strain in which it called the Prince the “Protector -of the Arts,” the “Mæcenas of the Age,” the “Glory of the People,” a -“Great Prince,” attended by Pleasure, Honour, Virtue, Truth, and other -illustrious vassals. The _Examiner_ showed up this folly by simply -turning it into English, and in plain language describing the position -and popular estimate of the Prince. For all these various acts the -_Examiner_ was prosecuted, with various fortunes; but in the last case -it was fined 1,000_l._, and its editor and publisher, the brothers -Leigh and John Hunt, were sentenced to two years’ imprisonment. The -_Examiner_ was no extravagant or violent paper; its writing was pretty -nearly of the standard that would be required now for style, tone, -and sentiment; but what would now be a matter of course in cultivated -style, elevated tone, and independent sentiment, was then supposed to -be not open to writers unprotected by privilege of Parliament. Not that -the paper stood alone. Other writers, both in town and country, vied -with it in independence; it excelled chiefly, perhaps, in the literary -finish which Leigh Hunt imparted to journalism; but it was the more -conspicuous for that finish. Its boldness won it high esteem. Offers -came from “distinguished” quarters, on the one side, to bribe its -silence for the Royal Horse Guards and its peccadilloes; on the other, -to supply the proprietors with subscription, support, and retaliatory -evidence. The _Examiner_ equally declined all encroachments on its -complete independence, which was carried to a pitch of exclusiveness. -This conduct told. The journal was thought dangerous to the régime--it -was prosecuted, and its success was only the greater. The Court ceased -to be what it had been, and the political system changed: the press of -England became generally what the _Examiner_ was. - -The _Reflector_ was a quarterly journal, based on the _Examiner_ and -its corps. Its more literary portion in its turn laid the basis for -the _Indicator_, in which Leigh Hunt designed, with due deference, -to revive the essays of the old _Spectator_ and _Tatler_. The grand -distinction was, that in lieu of mere literary recreation, like the -illustrious work of Addison, Steele, and Swift, it more directly -proposed to _indicate_ the sources of pleasurable association and -æsthetical improvement. In the _Reflector_, the _Indicator_, _Tatler_, -and subsequent works of the same class, Leigh Hunt was assisted by -Lamb, Barnes [afterwards editor of the _Times_], Aikin, Mitchell -[Aristophanes], Keats, Shelley, Hazlitt, and Egerton Webbe,--the -last cut short in a career rendered certain by his accomplishments, -his music, his wit, and his extraordinary command of language as an -instrument of thought. As in Robin Hood’s band, each man could beat -his master at some one art, or perhaps more; but none excelled him -in telling short stories, with a simplicity, a pathos, and a force -that had their prototype less in the tales of Steele and Addison, -than in the romantic poets of Italy. Few essayists have equalled, -or approached, Leigh Hunt in the combined versatility, invention, -and finish of his miscellaneous prose writings; and few, indeed, -have brought such varied sympathies to call forth the sympathies -of the reader--and always to good purpose,--in favour of kindness, -of reflection, of natural pleasures, of culture, and of using the -available resources of life. He used to boast that the _Indicator_ laid -the foundation for the “two-penny trash” which assumed a more practical -and widely popular form under Charles Knight’s enterprise. It has had -a host of imitators, but is still special, and keeps its place in the -library. - -Of his one novel, _Sir Ralph Esher_, suffice it to say, that he had -desired to make it a sort of historical literary essay,--a species of -unconcealed forgery, after the manner of a more cultivated and critical -Pepys; and that the bookseller persuaded him to make it a novel:--of -his dramatic works,--although he had an ambition to be counted among -British dramatists, and had a discriminating dramatic taste,--that -he combined, with the imperfect grasp of the tangible, a positive -indifference to dramatic literature. The dramatic work which is reputed -to be the most interesting of his compositions in this style, the -_Prince’s Marriage_, is still unacted and unpublished. - -But in regard to the veritable British Parnassus, he had solid work -to do, and he did it. Poetry amongst us had sunk to the lowest grade. -Leigh Hunt found the mild Hayley, and the mechanical Darwin, occupying -the field, Pope the accredited model, and he revolted against the -copybook versification, the complacent subserviency and mean moralities -of the muse in possession. He had read earnestly and extensively in -the classics, ancient and English; he carried with him to prison the -_Parnaso Italiano_, a fine collection of Italian poetical writers, in -fifty-two volumes; and he was deeply imbued with the spirit which he -found common to the poetical republic of all ages. He selected the -episode of Paolo and Francesca, whom Dante places in the _Inferno_, -and whose history was diligently hunted up to tell in the _Story of -Rimini_. In it Leigh Hunt insisted on breaking the set cadence for -which Pope was the professed authority, as he broke through the set -morals which had followed in reaction upon the licence of many reigns. -He shocked the world with colloquialisms in the heroic measure, and -with extenuations of the fault committed by the two lovers against -the law matrimonial. The offence, too, was perpetrated by a writer -condemned to prison for bearding the constituted authorities. The -poem and its fate were characteristic of the man and his position in -poetical literature. The work was designed as a picture of Italy, and a -tale of the natural affections rebelling against a tyranny more corrupt -than the licence which it claimed to check. But when he wrote it, the -poet had not been in Italy; and afterwards, with habitual anxiety to be -“right,” he corrected many mistakes in the scenery--such as “the smoke -goes dancing from the cottage trees,” where there are no such cottages -as he imagined, and smoke is no feature in the landscape. He also -restored the true historical conclusion, and instead of a gentlemanly -duel, _comme il faut_, made the tale end in the fierce double murder by -the husband. In its original shape, the _Story of Rimini_ touched many -a heart, and created more sensation for its bolder verse and nature -than others which followed it; in its amended form it gained in truth -to art and fact, and in force of verse and colouring. Leigh Hunt had -not the sustained melody and pulpit morals of the Lake School; but he -gave the example and encouragement to writers of still greater force -and beauty. He vindicated human right against official wrong, and -suffered imprisonment, and denunciation more bitter than that poured on -Shelley, whose political vindications burst forth with such a torrent -of eloquence and imagination in the _Revolt of Islam_. Leigh Hunt -asserted the beauty of natural passion,--but he did it tenderly and -obliquely, himself returning from the slightest taste of passion to -“the domesticities,” half begging pardon for his hardihood, and thus by -implication confessing his naughtiness; and all the while hinting at -the delicate subject of his tale by circumstance, rather than following -it to its full inspirations. The greater part of the _Story of Rimini_ -is scene-painting, as if it were told by some bystander in the street, -or some topographical visitor of the place. In the scene where the -lovers so dangerously and fatally fall to reading “Launcelot of the -Lake,”--“_quel giorno non legemmo più avanti_”--the larger portion of -the canto is devoted to a description of the garden. Leigh Hunt does -not, as Keats did, describe the sickening passion that gave the _Lamia_ -so ghastly a sense of her own hated form,--nor does he, as in the -_Lamia_, pursue the couple to the place where Love - - “Hover’d and buzz’d his wings with fearful roar - Above the lintel of their chamber door.” - -If pharisaical critics discovered objectionable “tendencies” in -passages--almost in the _omitted_ passages of his writings--they -could find no such impetuous and sublime argument as that to which -the _Revolt of Islam_ rises in the canto where “the meteor to its far -morass returned;” nor such lines as show that a fair authoress, whose -book has been “the rage” at Mudie’s, had been among the myriads of -Shelley’s readers. But although hesitating himself to plunge into the -impetuous torrent of passion, like the fowl mistrustful of its own -fitness for so stormy waters, Leigh Hunt was the friend, instigator, -and encourager of that rebellion of letters which in the earlier half -of our age produced Keats and Shelley, and the poetical literature of -the latter half of the nineteenth century. - -Others improved upon the example, no doubt, and bore away the -“_honores_.” At a late day, Lord John Russell obtained for Leigh -Hunt a royal pension of £200 a year--a most welcome and gratefully -acknowledged compensation of time and money torn from him in early -years. - -Leigh Hunt’s miscellaneous poems extend over a great variety of -subjects, from the classic legend of _Hero and Leander_, to the -mediæval fabliau of the _Gentle Armour_, and the satirical critique of -the _Feast of the Poets_. This last was published early in the author’s -maturer career; it is “in his second manner,” and he afterwards revised -many of the dicta on contemporary writers which he placed in the mouth -of the chairman on that festive occasion, Apollo. But it helped to -loosen the trammels of conventionalism in verse. The _Gentle Armour_, -although true to a modern refinement, is also true to the spirit of the -days of chivalry; it relates, in straightforward language, how a knight -who had refused the bidding of his mistress to defend a falsehood--not -her own--is punished by receiving the most feminine of garments as his -cognizance at a tournament; and how, wearing that _alone_, he takes in -his own person a bloody and reproving vengeance for the slight, in the -end winning both fight and lady. The subject was thought “indelicate” -by some who were less refined than the author--some descendants, -perchance, of the proverbial Peeping Tom. The _Hero and Leander_ is -a flowing and vivid recital of the ancient tale. The three works form -good specimens of the spirit as well as execution of Leigh Hunt’s -poetical writings. Of some of his smaller pieces it may be said that -they had become classic in his lifetime--such as the reverential sonnet -“On the Lock of Milton’s Hair” which he possessed; the exquisite -parental tenderness of the lines “To T. L. H., in Sickness;” and the -grandly Christian exaltation of charity in his _Abou-ben-Adhem_. - -As few men brought their personality more thoroughly into their -writings, so few men, out of the bookworm pale aforesaid, were more -thoroughly saturated with literature. He saw everything through books, -or saw it dimly. Speaking of his return from Italy, he writes:--“I -seemed more at home in England, even with Arcadian idealisms, than I -had been in the land nearer their birthplace; for it was in England -I first found them in books, and with England even my Italian books -were more associated than with Italy itself.” And speaking of the -_Parnaso Italiano_, he goes on:--“This book aided Spenser himself -in filling my English walks with visions of gods and nymphs,--of -enchantresses and magicians; for the reader might be surprised to -know to what a literal extent such was the case.” He used to “envy” -the “household waggon that one meets with in sequestered lanes” for -its wanderings, but was daunted at the bare imagination of “parish -objections” and raffish society; and so he ever recurred to “the -stationary domesticities.” He failed in practical life, because he was -not guided in it by literature. He could only apprehend so much of -it as he found in the cyclopædia. On the other hand, he could render -all that literature could give. His memory was marvellous; and to try -him in history, biography, bibliography, or topography, was to draw -forth an oral “article” on the topic in question. Ask him where was -the Ouse, and he would tell you of all the rivers so called; what were -the books on a given subject, and you had the list; “who was Colonel -O’Kelly?” and you had a sketch of the colonel, of the horse “Eclipse,” -of Epsom, and of horse-racing in general, as distinguished from the -racing of the ancients or the modern riderless races of Italy--where, -as in Florence, may still be seen a specimen of the biga sweeping -round the meta “_fervidis evitata rotis_.” His conversation was an -exhaustless _Curiosities of Literature_. The delighted visitor _read_ -his host,--but it was from a talking book, with cordial voice naturally -pitched to every change of subject, animated gesture, sparkling -eyes, and overflowing sympathy. In society Leigh Hunt was ever the -perfect gentleman, not in the fashion, but always the scholar and -the noble-minded man. But his diffidence was disguised, rather than -removed, by his desire to agree with those around him, and to fall in -with the humour of the hour. He was better known to his reader, either -in his books, or, best of all, in his home, where familiarity tested -his unfailing courtesy, daily intercourse brought forth the persevering -goodness of his heart and conscience, and poverty did but fetch out the -thorough-going generosity that not only “_would_ share,” but did share -the last crust. - - - - - The Search for Sir John Franklin. - - (FROM THE PRIVATE JOURNAL OF AN OFFICER OF THE “FOX”) - - -The last of the Government expeditions in search of Franklin returned -in 1854, without bringing further intelligence than had been previously -ascertained, namely, that the missing ships had spent their first -winter, 1845-46, at Beechey Island, and had departed thence without -leaving a single record to say whence they came or in what direction -they intended to explore in the following season. - -The war with Russia engrossed the public attention, and the Admiralty -determined that nothing more could be done for our missing sailors. - -Franklin and his companions were pronounced to be dead, and the search -to be closed. But many Arctic officers and private persons thought -otherwise. By the extraordinary exertions of the previous expeditions -the country to be searched had been reduced to a limited area in which -the ships must be, if above water, and through which the crews must -have travelled when they left their ships. Every other retreat from the -Arctic Seas had been explored, and the Great Fish River alone remained -unexamined. - -Later in the same year (1854), Dr. Rae, the celebrated traveller for -the Hudson Bay Company, who was endeavouring to ascertain the northern -extreme of America, brought home intelligence, which he had obtained -from the Esquimaux of Boothia, of forty white people having been seen -upon the west coast of King William Land in the spring of 1850: that -they were travelling southward, and that later in the same year it was -supposed they had all died in the estuary of a large river, which Dr. -Rae conjectured to be the Great Fish River. - -In 1855, the Hudson Bay Company, at the request of the Admiralty, sent -an expedition, conducted by Mr. Anderson, to explore the Fish River. -Mr. Anderson returned, having ascertained that a portion of the missing -crews had been on Montreal Island, in the mouth of that river; but Mr. -Anderson, without an interpreter, or the means of going beyond the -island, could only gather the most meagre information by signs from the -Esquimaux, and by a few relics found upon the land. Where the ships had -been left, or what had become of the people, seemed as great a mystery -as ever. - -It was then that Lady Franklin (who had already sent out three -expeditions) urged again that the search should be continued, and that -our countrymen should not thus be left to their fate; but although her -appeal was backed by the most competent officers, the season of 1856 -passed away without endeavours to clear up the mystery; and determining -that another year should not be lost in vain entreaties, Lady Franklin -once more undertook the responsibilities and the expenses of a final -effort to rescue our long-lost sailors from their perhaps living death -among the Esquimaux, or to follow up their footsteps in their last -journey upon earth, and to give to the world the scientific results of -the expedition for which those gallant men had given up their lives. - -[Illustration: DEPARTURE OF EXPLORING PARTIES FROM PORT KENNEDY.] - -In the spring of 1857 Lady Franklin commenced preparations for the -contemplated expedition. She was supported by some of the most -distinguished Arctic officers and scientific men, and the friends of -Sir John Franklin, among whom were Sir Roderick Murchison, General -Sabine, Captain Collinson, and many others. - -To Captain M‘Clintock was offered the command; and he who had served in -three previous expeditions, and to whom are principally due the results -of the extraordinary journeys over the ice that have been made during -the search for Franklin, cheerfully accepted the appointment, as, in -his own words, being the post of honour. - -The next thing was to seek a suitable vessel, and fortunately the _Fox_ -was in the market. Built for a yacht of some 180 tons register, with -auxiliary steam-power applied to a lifting screw, the _Fox_ appeared -in every way adapted for the service. She was at once purchased, and -the necessary alterations and fortifying commenced; and such was the -feeling of confidence in Captain M‘Clintock’s sincerity of purpose, -his daring and determination, combined with eminent talent, and every -qualification for command, that numbers sought the honour of serving -with him. The few who were so fortunate as to be selected were soon -appointed in their different capacities, and by the exertions of Lady -Franklin and Captain M‘Clintock everything that could possibly conduce -to the comfort or recreation of the ship’s company was supplied, and -the _Fox_ was ready for sea by the end of June. - -We intended first to touch at some of the Danish settlements in -Greenland, to purchase sledge-dogs; then to proceed to Beechey Island, -and there to fill up stores from the depôt left by Sir E. Belcher. -We were next to endeavour to sail down Peel Sound (supposed to be a -strait), but failing by that channel, to try down Regent’s Inlet, and -by the supposed Bellot Straits to reach the neighbourhood of the Great -Fish River; and having in the summer of 1857 and following spring -searched the adjacent country, we should return home either westward by -Behring’s Straits, or by our outward route, according to circumstances. -If we failed to reach King William Land or the Fish River, it was our -intention to winter as near the desired position as possible, and by -means of sledge journeys over the ice, to complete the search in the -following spring. We hoped to finish the work in one year; but in this -we were to be disappointed, as the narrative will show. - -We left Aberdeen on July 1, 1857; and after a favourable run across -the Atlantic, we made our first acquaintance with the Arctic Seas when -near the meridian of Cape Farewell, by falling in with the drift-wood -annually brought from Arctic Asia by the great current known as the -Spitzbergen current--the shattered and mangled state of these pine -logs bearing evidence of their long water-and-ice-borne drift. This -great Arctic current brings masses of ice from the Spitzbergen seas, -at seasons completely filling up the fiords, harbours, and indentations -on the south coast of Greenland, and often in a pack extending for 100 -miles southward of Cape Farewell. A whole fleet of whale ships were, -in June, 1777, beset in lat. 76° north, and nearly in the meridian of -Spitzbergen, and were drifted southward by the current, until one by -one they were crushed. The last and only surviving ship arrived in -October, in latitude 61°, in Davis’ Straits, and the crew escaped to -the land near Cape Farewell, 116 in number, out of 450 men, who only a -few short months before were looking forward to a happy return to their -homes. - -Late in the summer, the weather mild and the nights short, and with -steam-power at command, we had no occasion for much anxiety about this -ice, but determined to push direct for Frederickshaab, and with a fair -wind we steered to pass within sight of Cape Farewell. On the night of -the 13th July, we were becalmed, and on the following day we steamed -slowly to the north-westward, amidst countless numbers of sea-birds. -At daylight the coast of Greenland showed out in all its wild -magnificence. Cape Farewell bore north 45° east, distant twenty-five -miles; but from the peculiar formation of the adjacent land the -actual cape is difficult to distinguish. Hitherto we had not seen the -Spitzbergen ice; and we hoped that we might follow the coast round to -Frederickshaab without obstruction; but in the course of the forenoon -a sudden fall in the temperature of the sea, with a haziness in the -atmosphere to the northward, indicated our approach to ice. Straggling -and water-washed pieces were soon met with, and in the evening the -distant murmur of the sea, as it broke upon the edge of ice-floes, -warned us of our being near to a pack. - -We made but little progress during the two following days, the winds -being from the northward, and a dense ice-fog rolling down from the -pack. On the 17th, Frederickshaab bearing N. 28° E., distant fifty -miles, we determined upon endeavouring to push through the pack; and -after being at times completely beset, and with a constant thick fog, -we escaped into the inshore water, with a few slight rubs, having been -carried by the drifting body of ice nearly thirty miles northward of -our port. We sounded upon the Tallert bank; and on the fog lifting, -the great glacier of Frederickshaab was revealed to us, and we bore -away for the harbour, which we reached on the 19th. We had a little -difficulty at first in making out the entrance to Frederickshaab; but a -native kyack coming out to meet us, we were soon escorted in by a fleet -of these small canoes. - -We found the natives busily breaking up the wreck of an abandoned -timber ship, which had drifted to their harbour, with a few of the -lower tiers of cargo still in her; and another wreck was said to be -lying upon the Tallert bank--the same wreck, it is said, which Prince -Napoleon had boarded on his homeward passage in the _Atlantic_ the -previous year, and had left a record on her to prove the currents round -Cape Farewell. - -The Danish authorities, ever ready to assist vessels entering the -Greenland ports, supplied us with everything in their power, and after -purchasing some cod-fish from the natives, we proceeded on our voyage. -On leaving Frederickshaab, we experienced strong north winds, and had -to beat up between the pack and the land, until off the settlement of -Fiskernaas, on July 23rd. The temperature of the sea then rose from 35° -to 46° Fahrenheit; and seeing no ice, we considered that we were past -the limits of the Spitzbergen stream. Finding that our foretop masthead -was sprung, we ran into Fiskernaas, to repair it. We purchased more -cod-fish at Fiskernaas, at an almost nominal price. These fish are very -plentiful, and the Danish authorities annually collect about 30,000 -from the Esquimaux, to be dried, and again served out to them in the -winter, the habits of the natives being so improvident, that they will -not make this provision for themselves. Having made a few magnetic and -other observations, we sailed for Godhaab to procure a passage home for -one of our seamen, who, it was feared, was too ill in health to stand -the rigours of an Arctic winter. We met the Danish schooner coming -out, and the captain kindly received our invalid on board, and took -our letters for home. Outside Godhaab lie the Koku Islands, upon which -Egede first landed in 1721, and commenced recolonizing Greenland. The -mainland here is divided into four fiords, the largest being Godhaab -Fiord (or Baal’s River on old charts), which extends up to the inland -ice, and upon the shores of which are still to be seen many ruins of -the ancient Scandinavians. Upon the Koku Islands we were near leaving -the _Fox_, for in coming out, the wind fell suddenly calm, and the -steam being down, we were drifting with a strong tide fast upon the -rocks, and we only just towed the ship clear with all our boats. We now -steered for Diskoe, and after passing some magnificent icebergs, one -of which we found by measurement to be 270 feet above the sea, we saw -the precipitous cliffs of the island, entered the harbour of Godhavn -at night, and sailed on the following day for the beautiful fiord of -Diskoe, where a smart young Esquimaux, Christian, by name, was received -on board, as dog-driver to the expedition. We had not time to examine -this fine fiord, which has never been explored, and which is thought to -be of great extent; nor had we time to visit the Salmon River; but our -guide brought us a few fish, and with salmon-trout and ptarmigan for -breakfast, and a bouquet of flowers from the ladies of Godhavn upon the -gun-room table, we had no cause to complain of the Arctic regions so -far. - -We next steered for the Waigat Straits, intending to take in coals -from the mines there. As we passed Godhavn, the Esquimaux guide seated -himself in his kyack on the deck, and, notwithstanding a rough sea, he -was launched out of the gangway at his own request; a feat wonderful -to us, but evidently not strange to him, as he paddled away to the -shore without further notice. The native kyack is so small and crank, -that the natives cannot get in or out of it alongside a ship; but are -generally pulled up or lowered with it in the bight of two ropes’ ends. - -As we approached the Waigat, thousands of eider ducks covered the -water, and we shot many of the younger ones, but the old birds were -too crafty for us, and kept out of range. We now never lost an -opportunity of adding to our stock of fresh provisions, which already -began to make a show in the rigging, where we could feast our eyes -upon salmon, eider ducks, looms, cod-fish, ptarmigan, and seal beef, -besides two old goats, that we had purchased at Frederickshaab. We -entered the Waigat on August 3rd, on a beautiful day; and for wild -and desolate grandeur, I suppose these straits have no equal--lofty, -rugged mountains here abruptly facing the sea, or there presenting -a sloping moss-covered declivity--mountain torrents, and the small -streams, which, leaping over the very summits, at an elevation of 3,000 -to 4,000 feet, appear from beneath like threads of spun glass. In some -places may be seen the foot of a glacier high up a ravine, as if there -arrested in its course, or not yet grown sufficiently to fill up the -valley, and bring its blight down to the sea; in other places beautiful -valleys, green and grass-clothed, where the hare and ptarmigan love -to pass their short summer with their young broods. The sea itself is -scarcely less picturesque than the land; for thousands of icebergs, of -every size and fantastic form, cast off from the ice-streams of the -mainland, sail continually in these beautiful straits. - -We found the coal mine without difficulty, the seams of coal cropping -out of the cliffs under which we anchored. It was a very exposed -position, and the ground hard; the only safe way to lie would be by -making fast to a piece of grounded ice, if one can be found, as anchors -will not hold. - -In the early spring the ice-foot forms a natural wharf, and the coals -may be collected, and at high water the boats can go alongside to -receive the sacks. Now that steam has been introduced into the whale -fishery, these coal mines must sooner or later become much frequented, -and it is to be hoped that so valuable a resource will be taken -advantage of. If moorings could be laid down, and natives from the -opposite settlement of Atenadluk employed to collect coals in readiness -for embarkation, a ship might readily fill up in a few hours. - -We had scarcely completed our coaling, when the weather began to -threaten, the barometer fell, and shortly after noon it blew almost -a gale from the southward. Our anchors soon began to jump over the -ground, and the drift ice to set in. Steam was immediately got ready, -and we ran through the straits to the north-westward. Passing the -magnificent headland of Swarten Huk, we touched at the settlement -of Proven to purchase dogs and seal-beef, and then bore away for -Upernavik, steering close along the coast, and intending to attack the -breeding-place of looms, at Saunderson’s Hope; but a strong south-west -wind and high sea prevented our sending in the boats. Arrived off -Upernavik, we obtained more dogs, and having left our last letters -for home, we bore away, on the afternoon of August 6, to try to cross -Baffin’s Bay. - -We were now fairly away from the civilized world, and all that we could -look forward to, or hope for, was a speedy passage through the middle -pack of Baffin’s Bay, a satisfactory finish of the work before us on -the other side, and a return the following year to England. We had -a fine ship and a fine crew, all eager to commence the more active -duties of sledge travelling; and, indeed, on looking at our thirty -large and ravenous dogs that crowded our decks, we could not but think -that our sledge parties would solve, in the following spring, the -extraordinary mystery of Franklin’s fate. How these hopes were to be -disappointed that year the sequel will show. It is well for us that we -cannot know what the morrow may bring forth. During August 7 and 8, we -steered out due west from Upernavik to try to cross in that parallel -of latitude; but on the evening of the latter day, the keenness of the -air, the ice-blink ahead, and the fast increasing number of bergs, -prepared us for seeing the Middle Pack. In the evening and during that -night we passed streams of loose sailing ice, and on the morning of the -8th further progress was stopped by impenetrable floes. This was in -lat. 72° 40′ north, long. 59° 50′ west. - -Getting clear of the loose ice in the pack edge, we steered to the -northward, to look for an opening in any place where we could attempt a -passage. The ice, however, presented an impenetrable line, and having -reached, on August 12, latitude 75° 10′ north, longitude 58° west, we -made fast to an iceberg aground under the glacier. It was a lovely -evening; the sky bright and clear, and the thermometer standing at 36° -in the shade. Seals were playing about the ship, and we added to our -stock of beef. But a dreary prospect rather damped our pleasure. The -ice extended in one unbroken mass right into the land, and pressed -hard upon the very coast; not a drop of water could be seen from the -masthead, in the direction in which we desired to go. The southerly -winds, before which we had been running, appeared to have driven the -whole pack into the head of Melville Bay. The season was passing away, -and without an early change to wind and a continuance of it from the -northward, we were almost without a hope. - -In the evening we visited the glacier, but the _débris_ of shattered -ice, and the innumerable bergs and floe pieces, prevented our getting -close to its base. It was a beautifully calm night; not a sound to be -heard, save the crashing of some enormous mass rent from the face of -the glacier, or distant rumbling of the vast inland ice, as it moved -slowly down towards the sea. Far away over the continent, nothing -but the surface of glacier could be seen, excepting here or there a -mountain peak, showing up through the ice; and the bright glare of the -ice-blink shot up into the sky, giving a yellow tinge to the otherwise -deep blue vault of heaven. Flights of ducks winged their way to the -southward, reminding us that it was the season when those desolate -regions were deserted, and that we should be left alone. Our distant -ship was lying so surrounded with huge and lofty bergs, that only her -masthead could be seen through an opening; and a low melancholy howling -(such as an Esquimaux dog alone knows how to make) occasionally broke -upon the ear--for our dogs had all gone up to the very top of a lofty -berg, and were thus expressing their home-sick longings, and, perhaps, -a foreboding of the unhappy fate that awaited many of them. - -We lay secured to the iceberg until the 16th August, when the wind -changed to the north-eastward, and the floes began to move off the -land and to separate. Now or never were we to get through; for to -lose this opportunity would have shut us out from crossing that year, -and have left us no other resource than to return to Greenland for the -winter. M‘Clintock was not the man to turn back from his work, but -would rather risk everything than leave a chance of our thus passing -an inactive winter. The _Fox_ was therefore steered into a promising -lead or lane of water, and all sail made to the breeze. We were in high -spirits, and talked of getting into the west water on the morrow. But -at night a dense fog came on, the wind shifted to the southward, and -the floes again began to close upon and around us. There was no help -for us--we were beset, and it appeared hopelessly so; for the season -was fast passing away, and the new ice beginning to form. On the 17th -the wind increased, and the weather was dark and dreary. We struggled -on for a few ship’s lengths by the power of steam and canvas, and at -night we unshipped the rudder, and lifted the screw, in anticipation of -a squeeze. - -During the three weeks following we lay in this position, endeavouring, -by every means, to move the ship towards any visible pool or lane of -water. Once only did our hopes revive. On September 7, the wind had -again been from the north-westward; the ice had slackened, and we made -a final and desperate attempt to reach some water seen to the northward -of us. We were blasting with gunpowder, heaving, and warping during the -whole day, but at night the floes again closed. We had not now even a -retreat; the tinker had come round, as the seamen say, and soldered -us in; and from that time until the 17th of April, 1858, we never -moved, excepting at the mercy of the ice, and drifted by the winds and -currents. We had lost all command over the ship, and were freezing in -the moving pack. - -Preparations for the winter were now made in earnest. We had thirty -large dogs to feed besides ourselves, and we lost no opportunity of -shooting seals. The sea-birds had all left for the southward; and the -bears, which occasionally came to look at the ship, we could not chase, -from the yet broken state of the ice. Provisions were got up upon deck, -sledges and travelling equipages prepared, boats’ crews told off, and -every arrangement made by the Captain in the event of our being turned -out of the ship. As the winter advanced, the ship was housed over with -canvas, and covered with snow; and we had made up our minds for a -winter in the pack and a drift--whither? This we could not tell, but we -argued from the known constant set to the southward, out of Baffin’s -Sea and Davis’ Straits, that if our little ship survived through the -winter, we should be released in the southern part of Davis’ Straits -during the following summer. - -We were then in latitude 75° 24′ north, longitude 64° 31′ west, and -westward of us could be seen a formidable line of grounded bergs, -towards which, by our observations, we were driving. Our next eight -months were passed in a manner that would be neither interesting to -read nor to relate; but a few extracts from a private journal will show -our mode of life. - -_Sept. 16._--We passed the grounded bergs last night, after -considerable anxiety, for we feared we might be driven against them. -We saw the floes opening and tearing up as sod before the plough; and -had we come in contact with them, the ship must have been instantly -destroyed. We are out all day long, by the sides of the water-pools, -with our rifles, and shoot the seals in the head when they come up to -breathe; they are now getting fat, and do not sink so readily as in the -summer. - -_Oct. 17._--We obtained good observations, and found that we have -drifted north-west 65 miles, since the 15th inst. It has been blowing -hard from the south-eastward, and we consider that we have thus been -carried helplessly along by the effect of a single gale. - -_Nov. 2._--A bear came to look at the ship at night, and our dogs soon -chased him on to some thin ice, through which he broke. All hands -turned out to see the sport, and notwithstanding the intense cold many -of the people did not wait to put on their extra clothes. The bear was -dispatched with our rifles, after making some resistance, and maiming -several of the dogs. We have not seen the sun to-day; he has now taken -his final departure from these latitudes. It is getting almost too -dark to shoot seals, and we employ ourselves with such astronomical -observations as are necessary to fix our position, and to calculate -our drift, with observations upon the thermometer, barometer, and -meteorology generally. - -_Nov. 28._--After a zigzag drift out to the westward, until the 24th -inst., into latitude 75° 1′ N., longitude 70° W., we have commenced -a southern drift, and we trust now to progress gradually out of the -straits, until released in the spring. We have had considerable -commotion and ruptures in the ice-floes lately, but fortunately the -nips have not come too close to us. We ascend the masthead, to the -crow’s-nest, every morning, to look out for water, for our dogs are -getting ravenous, and we want food for them. - -_December 4._--Poor Scott died last night, and was buried through the -floe this evening, all hands drawing his earthly remains upon a sledge, -and the officers walking by the side. It was a bitterly cold night, -the temperature 35° below zero, with a fresh wind, and the beautiful -paraselene (ominous of a coming gale) lighting us on our way. The ice -has been more quiet lately, and we are becoming more reconciled to our -imprisonment. - -A reading, writing, and navigation school has commenced, and our -Captain loses no opportunity of attending to the amusement and -recreation of the men, so necessary in this dreary life. Besides the -ordinary duties of cleaning the ship, the men are exercised in building -snow houses, and preparing travelling equipage. - -_December 21._--The winter solstice. We have about half an hour’s -partial daylight, by which the type of _The Times_ newspaper may be -just distinguished on a board facing the south, where, near noon, a -slight glimmer of light is refracted above the horizon, while in the -zenith and northward the stars are shining brilliantly. In the absence -of _light and shade_ we cannot see to walk over the ice, for the -hummocks can scarcely be distinguished from the floe; all presents a -uniform level surface, and, in walking, one constantly falls into the -fissures, or runs full butt against the blocks of ice. We must now, -therefore, be content with an hour or two’s tramp alongside, or on -our snow-covered deck under housing; and, during the remainder of the -day, we sit below in our little cabin, which has now crystallized by -the breath condensing and freezing on the bulkheads, and we endeavour -to read and talk away the time. But our subjects of conversation -are miserably worn out; our stories are old and oft-repeated; we -start impossible theories, and we bet upon the results of our new -observations as to our progress, as we unconsciously drift and drift -before the gale. At night we retire to our beds, thankful that another -day has passed; a deathlike stillness reigns around, broken only by -the ravings of some sleep-talker, the tramp of the watch upon deck, a -passing bear causing a general rousing of our dogs, or a simultaneous -rush of these poor ravenous creatures at our cherished stores of -seal-beef in the shrouds; and, as we listen to the distant groaning and -sighing of the ice, we thank God that we have still a home in these -terrible wastes. - -_December 28._--During Divine service yesterday, the wind increased, -and towards the afternoon we had a gale from the north-westward, -attended with an unusual rise of temperature; to-day the gale -continues, with a warm wind from the N.N.W. - -“The Danish settlers at Upernavik, in North Greenland, are at times -startled by a similar sudden rise of temperature. During the depth of -winter, when all nature has been long frozen, and the sound of falling -water almost forgotten, rain will fall in torrents; and as rain in -such a climate is attended with every discomfort, this is looked upon -as a most unwelcome phenomenon. It is called the _Warm South-east -Wind_. Now, if the Greenlanders at Upernavik are astonished at a warm -_South-east Wind_, how much rather must the seamen, frozen up in the -pack, be astonished at a warm _North-west Wind_. Various theories -have been started to account for this phenomenon; but it appears most -probable that a rotatory gale passes over the place, and that the rise -in temperature is due to the direction from which the whole _mass of -air_ may come, viz. from the southward, and not to the direction of -_wind_ at the time.” - -Let us now return to the narrative, for our days were now becoming -mere repetitions of each other. We saw no change, nor did we hope for -any until the spring. Gale followed gale; and an occasional alarm of a -disruption in the ice, a bear or seal hunt, formed our only excitement; -indeed, we sometimes hoped for some crisis, were it only to break -the dreadful monotony of our lives. Our walks abroad afforded us no -recreation; on the contrary, it was really a trying task to spin out -the time necessary for exercise. Talk of a dull turnpike-road at home! -Are not the larks singing and the farm boys whistling? But with us -what a contrast! Our walks were without an object; one had literally -nothing to see or hear; turn north, south, east, or west, still snow -and hummocks. You see a little black mark waving in the air: walk to -it--it is a crack in a hummock. You think a berg is close to you; go to -it--still a hummock, refracted through the gloom. The only thing to do -is to walk to windward, so as to be certain of returning safe and not -frostbitten, to pick out a smooth place, and form imaginary patterns -with your footprints. Philosophers would bid us think and reflect; but -if philosophers were shut up with us amid the silence and darkness of -an Arctic winter, they would probably do as we did--endeavour to get -away from their thoughts. - -By the 29th of January, we had drifted into latitude 72° 46′ north, -longitude 62° west, and by the aid of refraction we saw the sun for the -first time since November 2. We ought indeed to have greeted him on a -meridian far westward of our present position, but it had been out of -power to do more this year, and we could only hope for more success in -the next. The weather had now become intensely cold, the mercury was -frozen, and the spirit thermometer registered 46° below zero. We had -great difficulty in clearing our bed-places of ice, and our blankets -froze nightly to the ship’s side; but we had the sun to shine upon us, -and that made amends for all. What a different world was now before our -eyes! Even in those dreary regions where nothing moves, and no sounds -are heard save the rustling of the snowdrift, the effects of the bright -sun are so exhilarating that a walk was now quite enjoyable. If any -one doubt how necessary light is for our existence, just let him shut -himself up for three months in the coal-cellar, with an underground -passage into the ice-house, where he may go for a change of air, and -see if he will be in as good health and spirits at the end of the -experiment as before. At all events, he will have obtained the best -idea one can form at home of an Arctic winter in a small vessel, save -that the temperature of the Arctic ice-house is -40°, instead of +32°, -as at home; only 72° difference! - -On the 14th of February some of us walked out to where the ice was -opening to the northward, and saw a solitary dovekie in winter plumage. -These beautiful little birds appear to winter on the ice. The water, -appearing deep black from the long absence of any relief from the -eternal snow, was rippled by a strong wind, and the little waves, so -small as to be compared to those of the Serpentine at home, sending -forth to us a new, and, consequently, joyous sound, induced us to -linger long by the side of the small lake--so long, that we were only -reminded, by our faces beginning to freeze, that we were at least three -miles from the ship, a gale blowing with thick snow-drift--besides no -chance of getting anything for the pot. - -A memorable day was the 26th of February, when we opened the skylight -and let in daylight below, where we had been living for four months by -the light of our solitary dips. The change was indeed wonderful, and -at first uncomfortable, for it exposed the manner in which we had been -content to live. With proper clothing you may laugh at the climate, -if not exposed too long without food. It is not the cold outside that -is to be feared, but the damp, and plague-engendering state of things -below. This can only be guarded against by having good fires and plenty -of light. - -Towards the latter end of March, the ice was getting very unquiet, -and we had frequent disruptions close to the ship. On the night of -the 25th of March, a wide fissure, which had been opening and closing -during the previous fortnight, closed with such force as to pile up -tons and tons of ice within forty yards of the ship, and shattered our -old floe in a line with our deck. The nipping continued, and on the -following night a huge block was hurled within thirty yards from us. -Another such a night and the little _Fox_ would have been knocked into -lucifer matches, and we should have been turned out upon the floe. - -April was ushered in with a continuance of heavy northerly gales; we -were constantly struggling with the ice. We were three times adrift, -and expecting to see our ship destroyed; and on the night of the -5th, the floes opened, and as their edges again came together, they -threatened to tear everything up. We were on deck throughout the night; -our boats and dogs were cut off from us, but with great exertion we -managed to save the dogs, although we nearly lost some of our men who -went in search of them. We that night secured the ship by the bower -chains, and we afterwards had a few days’ quiet. On the 10th we saw the -mountain peaks about Cape Dyer, on the west side of Davis’ Straits, the -first land seen since the previous October. We had drifted into lat. -66° 5′ N., and long. 58° 41′ W.; and we hoped that after passing Cape -Walsingham, the pack would open out. - -On April 17, in a heavy storm, a general breaking-up of the ice took -place, and we were turned completely out of our winter dock, and into -an apparently open sea. A scene of wild confusion ensued; the floes -were driving against each other in all directions, and the whole ocean -of ice appeared in commotion, while a blinding snow-drift distorted -and magnified every surrounding object. Our first care was to save our -dogs; but as an Esquimaux dog always expects either a thrashing or to -be put in harness when approached by a man, and the poor creatures were -terror-stricken with the storm, they ran wildly about over the ice, and -many of them were obliged to be abandoned to their fate, after sharing -the perils of the winter with us. On board the ship, preparations were -made to get her under command; for we were driving down upon the lee, -and into loose ice, where our men could not have rejoined us with the -boats. We shipped the rudder, and soon got some canvas upon the vessel, -and having got the men and boats safely on board, we steered to the -eastward, and really thought that we were released. A dark water-sky -hung over the eastern horizon, and we thought that we were not far -from the open ocean. But we had not proceeded more than some seventeen -miles, when at midnight we came to a stoppage. It was fearfully dark -and cold, and with the greatest difficulty we cleared the masses of -ice. The water space in which we worked the ship became gradually less -and less; we flew from side to side of this fast decreasing lake, until -at last we had not room to stay the vessel. By 4 A.M. we were again -beset. - -We now commenced a second drift with the pack, which took us down -to latitude 64° north, and longitude 57° west, on the 25th April, -when, towards midnight, a swell entered into the pack, and gradually -increased, until the ice commenced churning up around the vessel, and -dashing against her sides. These violent shocks continued throughout -the morning, and really seemed as if they would soon destroy the ship. -However, by the power of steam, we got the vessel’s head towards -the swell, and with a strong fair wind, we commenced pushing out. -After many narrow escapes from contact with the icebergs, we were -by night in comparatively open water. We were free! and steered a -course for the settlement of Holsteinborg, in Greenland, to recruit, -and to prepare for another attempt. What a change on the following -morning! Not a piece of ice could be seen, save a few distant bergs. -We once more had our little vessel dancing under us upon the waters, -innumerable sea-birds flew around us, and the very sea, in contrast -to its late frozen surface, appeared alive with seals and whales. All -nature seemed alive, and we felt as if we had risen from the dead! In -the evening, the snow-covered peaks of Sukkertoppen were seen, and -on the 28th of April, we moored in Holsteinborg harbour. Our anchors -had not been down, nor had our feet touched the land since the 3rd -of August. Ice-bound and imprisoned, we had drifted upwards of 1,200 -miles. Need it be added how thankful we were to that kind Providence -who had watched over us, and under Him to our gallant Captain, to whose -unremitting attentions to our comforts and safety we owed our health -and deliverance! - -The winter in Greenland had been very severe, and the country was still -snow-covered, and without an indication of spring. The natives were -scarcely aroused from their winter’s sleep, and all our expectations of -venison and ptarmigan feasts soon vanished. Very few reindeer had yet -been taken, the season not commencing before July, when the hunters go -up the fiords and kill them by thousands for the sake of their skins -alone, leaving their carcasses to be devoured by the wolves. - -Our men, however, were bent upon enjoying themselves, and as Jack’s -wants are few, with the aid of a couple of fiddlers and some bottles -of grog, they kept up one continuous ball--patronized by all the fair -Esquimaux damsels--in the dance-house on shore. The whole population -had turned out to meet us. We were entertained by the kind-hearted -dames upon stockfish and seal-beef, and such luxuries as they could -afford, with a hearty welcome to their neat and cleanly houses; and we -in our turn endeavoured to do the hospitalities on board the _Fox_ with -pickled pork and preserved cabbage. It was new life to us, who had been -confined so long in our little den, thus to mingle with these friendly -people. Never was sympathy more needed. We arrived hungry and unshaven, -our faces begrimed with oil-smoke, our clothes in tatters; the good -women of Holsteinborg worked and washed for us, repaired our sadly -disreputable wardrobes, danced for us, sang to us, and parted from us -with tears and a few little presents by way of _souvenirs_, as if we -could ever forget them. We wrote a few hasty letters, hoping that they -would reach home in the autumn, and sailed once more upon our voyage. - -We wished to call at Godhavn for another Esquimaux and some more -dogs, besides a few stores, of which we stood in need; so, sailing up -the coast, we arrived off the harbour on the night of May 10, but an -impenetrable stream of loose ice blockaded the entrance. It was a wild -night, and snowing heavily; sea, air, ice islands and icebergs seemed -all mingled in one common haze. We endeavoured to haul off the land, -and near midnight we narrowly escaped destruction upon an island, -which, seen suddenly on the lee-beam, was at first taken for a berg. We -all thought our ship must be dashed upon the rocks, and we were only -saved by the presence of mind and seamanship of our Captain, who never -left the deck, and wore the ship within a few yards of the shore. We -anchored next day at the Whale-fish Islands, and fell in there with -the _Jane_ and _Heroine_ whalers, whose captains gave us a true Scotch -welcome, and ransacked their ships to find some little comforts for -us. We again tasted the roast beef of old England. From the islands, -we crossed to Godhavn, where finding the harbour still full of ice, we -hauled into a rocky creek outside, a perfect little dock just capable -of holding the ship, but exposed to southerly winds. - -By the 25th of May we were prepared for another and final attempt to -accomplish our mission, and to try our fortunes in the ice. We were -certainly sobered down considerably by our late severe lesson; but -although less confident in our own powers, a steady determination -to do our best prevailed throughout the ship. Passing again through -the Waigat, we stopped at the coal-deposits to fill up with fuel, -and we shot a few ptarmigan while thus detained. We next stopped at -Saunderson’s Hope, “the Cape where the fowls do breed,” but it was yet -too early for eggs, and as the looms had no young to protect, they -flew away in thousands at every discharge of a gun; we got but few of -these, in our opinion, delicious birds. On the 31st, we made fast to an -iceberg off Upernavik, to await the breaking up of the ice in Melville -Bay. When we were in these latitudes the previous year, all things -living were migrating southward, but now constant flights of sea-birds -streamed northward, night and day, towards their breeding-places and -feeding-grounds, and by sitting on the rocky points, and shooting them -as they passed, we could generally make a fair bag. We were now almost -subsisting on eider ducks and looms. - -On June the 6th, we commenced our ice-struggles in Melville Bay, -endeavouring, according to the usual mode of navigation, to push up, -between the main pack and the ice still attached to the land, on all -occasions when the winds moved the pack out, and left a space or lane -of water. While thus following up the coast, on the 7th, we ran upon a -reef of sunken and unknown rocks, and, on the tide falling, we lay over -in such a manner as to threaten to fill upon the water again rising. We -succeeded, however, in heaving off without damage. - -After many escapes from being squeezed by the ice closing upon the -land, and after three weeks of intense labour, we reached Cape York -on June 26th. We there communicated with the natives who had so much -assisted Dr. Kane, when he wintered in Smith Sound. These poor -creatures live upon the flesh of the bear, seal, and walrus, which they -kill upon the ice with bone spears. They are, perhaps, the only people -in the world living upon a sea-coast without boats of any kind, and are -so completely isolated, that, previous to their being first visited in -1818, they considered themselves to be the only people in the world. -Dr. Kane left among them a Greenland Esquimaux, “Hans,” with his canoe. -They told us that Hans was married, and was well, but that they had -eaten the boat, besides many of their dogs, when hungry, during the -last winter. We invited them on board, and they saw all our treasures -of wood and iron; but they appeared to covet more than all, our dogs, -and a few light pieces of wood, fit for spear-handles. We sent them -away rejoicing over a few presents of long knives and needles, and they -continued to dance and brandish the knives over their heads until we -were out of sight. - -Passing Cape Dudley Diggs, we landed at a breeding-place of rotges -(little auks); the birds were sitting in myriads upon the ledges of the -cliffs, and we shot a great many; but our time was too precious to wait -long, even for fresh food, and so we bore away. We were considerably -baffled with ice-floes in crossing over towards Lancaster Sound, and we -did not reach that side until July 12. - -Near Cape Horsburgh we found a small and enterprising family of -natives, who had crossed over to this barren land from Pond’s Bay, -two years previously, in search of better hunting ground. These poor -people could give us no information of the missing ships; so we merely -stopped to give them a few presents; we then steered for Pond’s Bay, -from whence we had heard rumours of wrecks and wreck-wood being in -the possession of the natives. In crossing Lancaster Sound, we were -completely beset in the pack, and were even threatened with another -drift out to sea like that of last year; we fortunately escaped, -however, from the grip of the ice, after being carried for seven days -in a helpless state, and as far as Cape Bathurst, before we could -regain command over our ship. - -At the entrance to Pond’s Bay, we found an old woman and a boy living -in a skin tent, their tribe being some twenty-five miles up the inlet, -at a village on the north side. This village, called Kapawroktolik, -could not be reached by land, on account of the precipitous cliffs -facing the sea. The inlet was, however, yet full of ice, and Captain -M‘Clintock endeavoured to reach the natives by sledge. In the meantime, -we on board were employed in collecting sea-birds from the neighbouring -breeding cliffs of Cape Grahame Moore. We also frequently visited the -land to collect cochlearia, or scurvy-grass, which grew luxuriantly -about the old Esquimaux encampments. A trade was commenced with the -old lady on shore; for we found that, concealed among the stones, she -had a number of narwhales’ horns, teeth, and blades of whalebone, of -which she would only produce one at a time, by way of enhancing the -value by its apparent scarcity. Around her tent were snares set in all -directions for catching birds, and she had a large quantity of putrid -blubber lying _en cache_, which was her principal food and fuel. The -boy brought us a hare, which he had shot with his bow and arrow. -Captain M‘Clintock having failed to reach the village, owing to the ice -being all adrift in the inlet, he determined to take the ship there if -possible, and to take the old woman as pilot. - -We ran alongside her tent, which she soon packed up with all her -worldly riches, and came on board thoroughly drenched with the rain, -which had poured in torrents all day. Our people managed to rig her out -in some dry clothes; the poor boy was made snug in the engine room, -and the old lady voluntarily took her station as pilot upon the deck -throughout the night, and was very anxious to point out the beauties of -her country, and the “pleasant sleeping places.” - -We could only get within eight miles of the village, owing to there -being fast ice in the inlet; so, securing the ship to it, the Captain -and Hobson started over the ice. On board the ship we hoped to have a -quiet Sunday, but a number of right-whales playing round the vessel, -and pushing their backs under the ice, constantly broke away the rotten -edge to which we lay. We were thus kept constantly beating up again to -it; and in the evening, about six or seven miles of the ice coming away -in one floe, and turning round upon us, we were forced upon the south -shore of the inlet, and momentarily expected being driven upon the -rocks; but after blasting the ice with gunpowder for nearly two hours, -in order to gain every inch, we got clear just as we were touching the -ground. - -The next morning (August 2) the Captain and party returned. They had -a most interesting trip, and described the village as situated in a -most romantic spot, close upon the shore, at the foot of a deep valley -filled with a glacier, which completely overhung the settlement, and -threw jets of water almost to the tents. The natives were delighted -to see them, and, in answer to the inquiries through the interpreter -(Mr. Petersen), they said that two old wrecks were lying four days’ -journey southward of Cape Bowen--probably in Scot’s Inlet. These two -ships came on shore together many years ago. They also confirmed an -account from our lady pilot of an old wreck lying to the northward in -Lancaster Sound, one day’s journey from Cape Hay, or, as they call it, -Appak (breeding-place of birds). The wood in their possession was now -accounted for, as also their great anxiety to procure saws, which they -always asked for in barter. These wrecks were not those we sought, and -we had no occasion to delay our voyage by looking at them. The natives -drew a rough chart of the interior of this unknown country. They -especially pointed out the salmon rivers, and the hunting and sleeping -places, and gave a few general ideas of the profile of the land, and -the main directions of the different channels which intersect it; -describing North Devon as an island, and showing a water communication -with Igloolik, where Parry wintered. We had now set at rest all rumours -of Franklin’s ships being in the neighbourhood of Pond’s Bay; and -having made a few observations for the survey of the place, we departed -for Beechey Island, regretting that the whaleships had not been with us -to profit by the number of fish we had seen. As we entered Lancaster -Sound, five huge bears sat watching a dead whale; they sat upon -different pieces of ice, apparently taking turns to feed, and evidently -afraid of each other. We shot a couple of them, but one escaped over -the ice after a long chase, although desperately wounded. - -The next morning (August 7) the wind increased to a perfect storm from -the eastward; the fog was, as seamen say, as thick as pease-soup; we -could see nothing; and compasses being here useless, we had to trust to -our luck rather than good guidance for keeping in the fairway. We saw -very little ice, but the sea ran so high upon the 8th, that we thought -it prudent to lie-to for some hours. On the 10th, a herd of walrus -was seen off Cape Felfoot, upon a piece of sailing ice, and lying so -close as to completely cover it. The ship was run close alongside, and -several were shot, but we did not succeed in getting one; for, unless -instantaneously killed, they always wriggle off the ice and sink. -The only practical method of getting a walrus is with a gun-harpoon -from a boat; as yet we had shot only one during our voyage. Steering -round Cape Hurd in a thick fog, we struck on an unknown shoal, but -soon backed off again, and let go the anchor, as we could not see our -position. About midnight the fog lifted, and we proceeded. A large -bear was seen swimming round a point, and was shot; and shortly after, -one of the men fell overboard: he was picked up rather exhausted with -his cold bath, and perhaps a little alarmed at bathing in company -with polar bears. We anchored next day off Cape Riley, where the -_Bredalbane_ was lost, after Captain Inglefield had landed some of her -stores and coals. We found that the bears had been amusing themselves -with the provisions, and had eaten out the bilges between the hoops of -many of the casks. They evidently had a particular relish for chocolate -and salt pork (we hoped they liked it), and had taken the greatest -trouble to throw everything about. We visited the stores at Beechey; -they had been stored and housed with extreme care. A violent gale had -passed over the place, for the door of the house was blown in and the -entrance full of snow, but nothing was damaged excepting some biscuit. -We also visited the graves, so often described, yet ever interesting, -of the poor fellows who died in Franklin’s first winter quarters, and -whose comrades we were now seeking. - -Our coaling from Cape Riley was completed by the 15th, and we were glad -to leave that exposed and dangerous place. We had been considerably -troubled with drift ice, and on the 13th we drove half across the bay, -with both anchors down, and had to moor to a piece of ice grounded -close to the ship. We crossed to the house at Beechey, and there landed -a handsome tombstone (sent out by Lady Franklin), in memorial of Sir -John Franklin and his companions. It was placed close to the monument -erected by their shipmates to the memory of poor Bellot and those who -had died in the previous searching expeditions. Taking in such stores -as were actually necessary, and having repaired the house, we crossed -over to Cape Hotham for a boat (left there by Penny), to replace one of -ours which had been crushed by the ice. Wellington Channel appeared to -be clear of ice, and a jumping sea, from the southward, gave us promise -of clear water in that direction. On the 17th, we were sailing down -Peel Sound with a fresh wind, and carrying every rag of canvas. Passing -Limestone Island and Cape Granite, we began to think that we should go -right through, for as yet no ice could be seen ahead; but the southern -sky looked bright and icy, while, in contrast, a dark gloom hung over -the waters we had left in the northward. Still we sailed on merrily, -and were already talking of passing the winter near the Fish River, and -returning the following year by Behring’s Straits, when “Ice ahead!” -was reported from the crow’s-nest; and there it certainly was, a long -low white barrier, of that peculiar concave form always indicating -fast-ice. The Straits had not broken up this season, and we could not -pass that way. We were bitterly disappointed, but not disheartened, -for we had yet another chance of getting to our longed-for destination -by way of Bellot Straits. Not an hour was to be lost; the season was -passing away; and thither our captain determined to go at once. We -reluctantly ran out of this promising channel, and sailed close along -the north shores of Somerset, without seeing any ice of consequence. -The night of the 18th set in dark and squally, but in the absence of -ice we were quite at our ease. We steamed close under the magnificent -castellated cliffs of Cape Clarence, and entered Leopold Harbour to -land a boat, in the event of our having to abandon our ship and fall -back this way. - -We found Regent’s Inlet clear, excepting a few streams of loose ice, -through which we easily sailed. We passed Elwin and Batty Bays, and -everything, as an old quartermaster expressed it, looked “werry -prosperious.” Poor fellow! he knew that every mile sailed in the right -direction would save him a hard pull at the sledge ropes. - -On the 20th, we passed close to Fury Beach, where the _Fury_ was lost -in 1825; but the pace was too good to stop to visit even this most -interesting spot. We came on with a fair wind and clear water to the -latitude of Bellot Straits. Our excitement now became intense. The -existence of the strait had been disputed, and upon it depended all -our hopes. Running into Brentford Bay, we thought we saw ice streaming -out, as if through some channel from the westward, but as yet we could -see no opening; and being unable to get farther that night, we anchored -in a little nook discovered on the north side of the bay. A look-out -was set upon the highest hill, to watch the movements of the ice, and -on the next day we made our first attempt to sail through. We started -with a strong western tide, and under both steam and canvas, and, -after proceeding about three miles, we were delighted to find that -a passage really existed; but we had not got half way through when, -the tide changing, a furious current came from the westward, bringing -down upon us such masses of ice that we were carried helplessly away, -and were nearly dashed upon huge pieces of grounded ice and reefs of -rocks, over which the floes were running, and would have immediately -capsized the little _Fox_ had she touched. This current ran at least -seven knots an hour, and was more like a bore in the Hooghly than any -ordinary tide. Struggling clear, after some considerable anxiety, and -carried out of the straits, we reluctantly went back to the anchorage -we had left. Night and day we now earnestly watched Bellot Straits, but -they remained choked with the ice, which apparently drove backwards and -forwards with the stream. We made another desperate attempt on the 25th -August, and hung on, at imminent risk, in a small indentation about -two-thirds through, and close under the precipitous cliffs. We were -soon driven out of this again by the ice; yet so determined was our -Captain to get through, that he then thought of pushing the ship into -the pack, and driving with it into the western sea. We found, however, -that the western entrance must be blocked, for the ice did not move -fast in that direction. We could now do nothing but wait a change; and -to employ the time, we sailed down the east coast of Boothia for some -forty miles, to land a depôt of provisions, in case we should require, -in the following winter, to communicate with the natives about Port -Elizabeth. Navigation was now very cold and dreary work: we struggled -back to Bellot Straits against strong north winds, sleet, and snow, and -without compass, chart, or celestial objects to guide us. The Captain -next went away in a boat, determining, when stopped, to travel over -land to the western sea to examine the actual state of things there; -and Young was sent to the southward for five days with boat and sledge, -to ascertain if another passage existed where a promising break in the -land had been seen. - -The Captain returned to the ship on the 31st, bringing with him a fine -fat buck; he had reached Cape Bird by water and land, and brought us -a favourable report of Victoria Straits. Our hopes of getting through -were again raised. Young returned unsuccessful from the south; no other -strait existed, but only an inlet, extending some six miles in, and a -chain of lakes thence into the interior to the south-westward. Young -saw only one deer, but many bears were roaming about the coast. - -On the 6th September we made another dash at the straits, and this time -succeeded in reaching a rocky islet, two miles outside the western -entrance; but a barrier of fast ice, over which we could see a dark -_water-sky_, here stopped us. Moored to the ice, we employed ourselves -in killing seals, hunting for bears, and making preparations for -travelling. Young was sent to an island eight miles to the south-west, -to look around; and on ascending the land, he was astonished to see -water as far as the visible horizon to the southward in Victoria -Straits. While sitting down, taking some angles with the sextant, he -luckily turned round just in time to see a large bear crawling up the -rocks to give him a pat on the head. He seized his rifle and shot him -through the body, but the beast struggled down and died out of reach, -in the water, and thus a good depôt of beef was lost. Hobson, who, for -some days, had been employed carrying provisions on to this island, -started on the 25th with a party of seven men and two dog-sledges to -carry depôts as far as possible to the southward, and the Captain -placed a boat on the islet close to the ship, in case we should have to -leave for winter quarters before Hobson’s return. - -The winter now set in rapidly, new ice was fast increasing, and the -weather very severe; all navigation was at an end, and the barrier -outside of us had never moved. We had now no hopes of getting further, -and as no harbour existed where we were, we had nothing for it but to -seek our winter home in Bellot Straits, and finish our work in the -following winter and spring. So leaving Hobson to find his way to -us, we ran back through Bellot Straits towards a harbour that we had -discovered and named Port Kennedy. The straits were already covered -with scum, and almost unnavigable, but we reached the harbour at -midnight on the 27th, and ran the ship as far as possible into the -new ice which now filled it. The _Fox_ had done her work until the -following summer. No opportunity was now lost of procuring fresh food. -The deer were migrating southward and a few were shot as they passed. -But the hunting was very precarious; the deer were travelling, and did -not stop much to feed; there was no cover whatever, and stalking over -the rugged hills and snow-filled valleys was most laborious. A few -ptarmigan and hares were also shot, but we were altogether disappointed -in the resources of the country. We had, however, a fair stock of bear -and seal flesh for our dogs and ourselves to begin upon. - -On the 6th October Hobson returned, having reached some fifty miles -down the west coast of Boothia, but was there stopped by the yet -broken-up state of the ice. Finding that we had left Cape Bird, and -that Bellot Straits were impassable for the boat, he travelled back to -the ship over the mountains. The people were now clearing out the ship, -landing all superfluous stores, and building magnetic observatories of -snow and ice, besides hunting for the pot. We once more buried the ship -with snow. - -On the 24th, Hobson again started for the south-westward, to follow -up his last track, and to endeavour to push his depôts further on. He -returned to the ship on November 6, having experienced most severe -weather, and great dangers from the unquiet state of the ice. When -encamped near the shore, in latitude 70° 21′, the ice broke suddenly -away from the land and drifted out to sea before the gale, carrying -them off with it. They were perched upon a small floe piece, and a wide -crack separated the two tents. Dense snow-drift heightened the darkness -of the night, and they could not possibly tell in which direction they -were driving. The next morning they found themselves fifteen miles from -where they had pitched the previous evening. By the mercy of Providence -a calm succeeded, and they escaped to the land over the ice which -immediately formed. So thin was this new ice, that they momentarily -expected to break through. By great exertion Hobson saved the depôt; -and finding it impossible to do any more, he landed the provisions -and returned to the ship. Our autumn travelling was now brought to a -close. A depôt of provisions was to have been carried by Young across -Victoria Straits, but this was given up as evidently impracticable. -We sat down for the winter, praying that we might be spared to finish -our work in the spring. The whole ship’s company marched in funeral -procession to the shore on the 10th November, bearing upon a sledge -the mortal remains of poor Mr. Bland (our chief engineer), who was -found dead in his bed on the 7th. The burial service having been read, -he was deposited in his frozen tomb, on which the wild flowers will -never grow, and over which his relations can never mourn. We were all -on board almost as one family, and any one taken from us was missed -as one from the fireside at home. It was long before this sorrowful -feeling throughout the ship could be shaken off. On the 14th the sun -disappeared, and we were left in darkness; our skylights had long -been covered over with snow, and by the light of our solitary dip we -tried to pass the weary hours by reading, sleeping, and smoking. We -were frozen in, in a fine harbour, surrounded by lofty granite hills, -and on these were occasionally found a few ptarmigan, hares, and wild -foxes; whenever the weather permitted, or we could at all see our -way, we wandered over these dreary hills in search of a fresh mess. -We varied our exercise with excursions on the ice in search of bears. -But although exercise was so necessary for our existence, yet from the -winds drawing through the straits and down our harbour as through a -funnel, there were many days, and even weeks, when we could scarcely -leave the ship. The men set fox-traps in all directions, and Mr. -Petersen set seal-nets under the ice. The nets were not successful, but -the traps gave an object for a walk. Magnetic observations were carried -on throughout the winter;--the reading of one instrument, placed in a -snow-house some 200 yards from the ship, being registered every hour -night and day. On some of the wild winter nights, there was some risk -in going even that distance from the ship. Christmas and New Year’s -days were spent with such rejoicing as in our situation we could make, -and we entered upon the year 1859 with good health and spirits. Our -dogs, upon which so much depended, were also in first-rate condition, -and not one of them had died. - -The sun returned to us on January 26th; the daylight soon began to -increase; and by February 10th, we were all ready to start upon our -first winter journey. Bad weather detained us until the 17th, when -Captain M‘Clintock and Young both left the ship; the Captain, with only -two companions, Mr. Petersen (interpreter) and Thompson as dog-driver, -to travel down the west coast of Boothia, to endeavour to obtain -information, preparatory to the long spring journeys, from some natives -supposed to live near the magnetic pole. Young was to cross Victoria -Straits with a depôt of provisions, to enable him in the spring to -search the coast of Prince of Wales Land, wherever it might trend. He -returned on March 5. - -The Captain’s party hove in sight on the 14th, and we all ran out to -meet him. He had found a tribe of natives at Cape Victoria, near the -magnetic pole, and from them he learnt that some years ago a large ship -was crushed by the ice, off the north-west coast of King William Land; -that the people had come to the land, and had travelled down that coast -to the estuary of the Great Fish River where they had died upon an -island (Montreal Island); the natives had spears, bows and arrows, and -other implements made of wood, besides a quantity of silver spoons and -forks, which they said they had procured on the island (more probably -by barter from other tribes). It was now evident that we were on the -right track, and with this important information Captain M‘Clintock -returned to the ship. - -Our winter travelling was thus ended, fortunately without any mishap. - -Those only who know what it is to be exposed to a temperature of frozen -mercury accompanied with wind, can form any idea of the discomforts of -dragging a sledge over the ice, upon an unknown track, day after day, -and for eight or ten consecutive hours, without a meal or drink, the -hands and face constantly frostbitten, and your very boots full of ice; -to be attacked with snow blindness; to encamp and start in the dark, -and spend sixteen hours upon the snow, in a brown-holland tent, or the -hastily erected snow-house, listening to the wind, the snow-drift, and -the howling of the dogs outside, and trying to wrap the frozen blanket -closer round the shivering frame. The exhaustion to the system is so -great, and the thirst so intense, that the evening pannikin of tea and -the allowanced pound of pemmican would not be given up were it possible -to receive the whole world in exchange; and woe to the unlucky cook if -he capsized the kettle! - -On the 18th March, Young again started for Fury Beach, distant -seventy-five miles, to get some of the sugar left there by Parry in -1825, and now considered necessary for the health of our men by the -surgeon. This journey occupied until the 28th, one sledge having broken -down, and the whole weight--about 1200 lbs.--having to be worked back -piecemeal with one sledge, by a sort of fox-and-goose calculation. Dr. -Walker, who had also volunteered to go down for the provisions left -on the east coast in the autumn, and now not required there, returned -about the same time. With the information already obtained, and which -only accounted for one ship, Captain M‘Clintock saw no reason for -changing the original plan of search, viz., that he should trace the -Montreal Island and round King William Land; that Hobson should cross -from the magnetic pole to Collinson’s farthest on Victoria Land, and -follow up that coast; and that Young should cross Victoria Straits -and connect the coast of Prince of Wales Land with either Collinson’s -farthest on Victoria Island or Osborne’s farthest on the west coast of -Prince of Wales Land, according as he might discover the land to trend. -Young was also to connect the coast with Browne’s farthest in Peel -Sound, and explore the coast of North Somerset from Sir James Ross’s -farthest (Four River Bay) to Bellot Straits. This would complete the -examination of the whole unexplored country. - -The travelling parties were each to consist of four men drawing one -sledge, and six dogs with a second sledge, besides the officer in -charge, and the dog-driver. By the aid of depôts, already carried out, -and from the extreme care with which Captain M‘Clintock had prepared -the travelling equipment, and had reduced every ounce of unnecessary -weight, we expected to be able to be absent from the ship, and without -any other resource, for periods of from seventy to eighty days, and if -necessary even longer. The Captain and Hobson both started on the 2nd -April, and Young got away upon the 7th. The _Fox_ was left in charge -of Dr. Walker (surgeon), and three or four invalids, who were unfit for -the fatigues of travelling. - -Although we all felt much excited at the real commencement of our -active work, and interested in these departures, this was perhaps the -most painful period of our voyage. We had hitherto acted in concert, -and all the dangers of our voyage had been shared together. We were now -to be separated, and for three months to travel in detached parties -over the ice, without an opportunity of hearing of each other until -our return. It was like the breaking up of a happy family, and our -only consolation lay in the hope that when we again met it would be -to rejoice over the discovery of the lost ships. Nothing of interest -occurred on board during our absence; but one of the invalids, poor -Blackwell, had been getting gradually worse, and died of scurvy on June -14, the very day on which Hobson returned. - -The Captain and Hobson travelled together as far as Cape Victoria. -There they learnt the additional news that another ship had drifted -on shore on the west coast of King William Land in the autumn of the -same year in which the first ship was crushed. Captain M‘Clintock, now -knowing that both ships had been seen off that coast, and that on it -the traces must be found, most generously resigned to Hobson the first -opportunity of searching there, instead of crossing to Victoria Land, -as originally intended. Captain M‘Clintock then went down the east side -towards the Fish River. Near Cape Norton, he found a tribe of some -thirty or forty natives, who appeared much pleased to meet the strange -white people. They answered readily any inquiries, and concealed -nothing. They produced silver spoons and forks, and other relics from -the lost ships, and readily bartered them for knives or needles. They -were acquainted with the wreck, which they said was over the land -(on the south-west coast), and for years they had collected wood and -valuables from it, but they had not visited it for a long time. They -had seen Franklin’s people on their march southward, but had not -molested them. They said that they had seen one human skeleton in the -ship. Proceeding on his route, Captain M‘Clintock next found a native -family at Point Booth, near the south-east extreme of King William -Land; these natives gave him the additional information that the -remains of some of the lost people would be found on Montreal Island. -Having searched Montreal Island and main land in the neighbourhood -without finding other traces than a few pieces of copper and iron, and -now having connected the search from the north with Anderson’s from the -south, Captain M‘Clintock proceeded to examine the shores of Dease and -Simpson Straits, and the southern shore of King William Land. - -Near Cape Herschel, the Captain’s party found a human skeleton upon the -beach as the man had fallen down and died, with his face to the ground; -and a pocket-book, containing letters in German which have not yet been -deciphered, was found close by. - -The large cairn, originally built by Simpson, at Cape Herschel, had -been pulled down, probably by the natives, and if any record or -document had ever been placed therein by Franklin’s people, they were -now lost, for none could be found within or around the cairn. Passing -Cape Herschel, Captain M‘Clintock travelled along the hitherto unknown -shore, and discovered it to extend out as far as the meridian of 100° -West. There all traces of the natives ceased,[31] and it appeared as -if they had not for many years lived or hunted beyond that point which -was named Cape Crozier (after Captain Crozier, Franklin’s second in -command). - -The land then trended to the north-eastward, and about twenty miles -from Cape Crozier, M‘Clintock found a boat, which had only a few -days previously been examined by Hobson from the north, and in it a -note left by Hobson to say that he had discovered the records of the -_Erebus_ and _Terror_, and after travelling nearly to Cape Herschel -without finding further traces, had returned towards the _Fox_. Captain -M‘Clintock, from the south, had now connected his discoveries with -those of Lieutenant Hobson, to whose very successful journey we will -now turn. - -Parting from the Captain at Cape Victoria, Hobson crossed to Cape -Felix, and near that point he found a cairn, around which were -quantities of clothing, blankets, and other indications of Franklin’s -people having visited that spot, and probably formed a depôt there, in -the event of their abandoning their ships. Anxiously searching among -these interesting relics without finding any record, Hobson continued -along the shore to Cape Victoria, where, on May 6, he discovered a -large cairn, and in it the first authentic account ever obtained of the -history of the lost expedition. It was to the following effect:--That -the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ had ascended Wellington Channel to latitude -77° north, and had returned west of Cornwallis Island to Beechey -Island, where they spent their first winter, 1845-46. Sailing thence -in the following season, they were beset, on September 12, 1846, in -latitude 70° 5′ north, longitude 98° 23′ west. _Sir John Franklin died -on June 11, 1847_; and on the 22nd of April, 1848, having, up to that -date, lost by death nine officers and fifteen men, both ships were -abandoned in the ice, five leagues north north-west of Point Victory. -The survivors, 106 in number, had landed, under the command of Captain -Crozier, on the 25th April, at Point Victory, and would start on the -morrow (April 26) for the Great Fish River. Another record was also -found, stating that previously, on the 24th May, 1847, Lieutenant -Grahame Gore and Mr. Charles DesVœux, mate, had landed from the ship, -with a party of six men. The record did not state for what reason they -had landed; but from the number who finally abandoned the ships, this -party must have returned on board, and it is probable that they merely -landed to examine the coast. - -Quantities of clothing, cooking, and working implements were scattered -about near Point Victory, and a sextant, on which was engraved the -name of Frederick Hornby, was found among the _débris_. Collecting a -few of the most interesting of these relics to take with him upon his -return, Hobson then pushed on to the southward, and when near Cape -Crozier he discovered the boat above mentioned, by a small stanchion -just showing up above the snow. Clearing away the snow, he found in -the bottom of the boat two human skeletons, one of which was under a -heap of clothing. There were also watches, chronometers, silver spoons, -money, &c., besides a number of Bibles, prayer and other religious -books; and although one of the Bibles was underlined in almost every -verse, yet not a single writing was found to throw further light upon -the history of the retreating parties. There were two guns, one barrel -of each being loaded and cocked, as if these poor fellows had been -anxiously longing for a passing bear or fox to save them from starving; -for nothing edible was found, save some chocolate and tea, neither of -which could support life in such a climate. Lieutenant Hobson, having -searched the coast beyond Cape Crozier, returned to the ship on June -14, in a very exhausted state. He had been suffering severely from -scurvy, and was so reduced in strength that he could not stand. He had -been for more than forty days upon his sledge, carried in and out of -the tent by his brave companions, and his sufferings must have been -beyond description. Throughout his journey he had only killed one bear -and a few ptarmigan. - -Captain M‘Clintock returned on board the _Fox_ on June 19, having been -absent eighty days. He brought with him a number of relics, and had -minutely examined every cairn and the whole coast of King William. -He supposes that the wreck of the ship, unless upon some off-lying -island, has been run over by the ice, and has disappeared; as he saw -nothing of it. He made most valuable discoveries in geography, and -surveyed the coast from Bellot Straits to the magnetic pole, besides -having travelled completely round King William Island, and filled up -its unknown coasts. Besides his other instruments, he carried with him -a dip circle, weighing 40 lbs., with which he also made most valuable -observations. - -Young had crossed Victoria Straits (now Franklin Straits), discovered -M‘Clintock Channel, and proved Prince of Wales Land to be an island; -having reached the point which Captain Sherard Osborn came to from the -north. Owing to the very heavy character of the ice, he had failed -in crossing M‘Clintock Channel, and returned to the ship on June 8, -for a day or two’s rest. He had again started, on June 10, to recross -Victoria Straits, and to complete the search to the northward upon -Prince of Wales Land, and the unknown land of North Somerset, and was -now absent; and although the ice was fast breaking up, and the floes -already knee-deep with water, Captain M‘Clintock, notwithstanding -his late severe journey, fearing that something might be wrong, most -kindly started immediately, with only one man and a dog-sledge, to -look for him. He found Young perched up out of the water upon the -top of the islet, off Cape Bird, and they returned together to the -ship on June 28. We were now all on board, and once more together. We -were in fair health, although some of us were a little touched with -scurvy. We passed our time in shooting, eating, and sleeping, and then -eating again: our craving for fresh food, or, as the sailors call it, -blood-meat, was excessive; seal and bear flesh, foxes, gulls, or -ducks, went indiscriminately into the pot. We rejoiced whenever we got -a fresh mess of any sort. - -The summer burst upon us; water was pouring down all the ravines, -and flooding the ice in the harbour, and with extreme satisfaction -we saw the snow houses and ice hummocks fast melting away in the now -never-setting sun. A joyous feeling existed throughout the ship, for -our work was done, and we had only to look forward to an early release, -and a return to our families and homes. - -Over and over again we told our adventures, and we never tired of -listening to the one all-absorbing, though melancholy subject, of the -discovery of the fate of Sir John Franklin and his companions. - -We had been prepared by the report brought from the Esquimaux in -February to find that all hopes of survivors were at an end, and that -the expedition had met with some fatal and overwhelming casualty; but -we were scarcely prepared to know, nor could we even have realized the -manner, in which they spent their last days upon earth, so fearful a -sojourn must it have been. Beset and surrounded with wastes of snow -and ice, they passed two more terrible winters drifting slowly to the -southward at the rate of one mile in the month, hoping each summer -that the ice would open, and determined not to abandon their ships -until every hope was gone. In nineteen months they had only moved some -eighteen miles, their provisions daily lessening, and their strength -fast failing. They had at last left their ships for the Fish River at -least two months before the river could break up and allow them to -proceed, and in the then imperfect knowledge of ice travelling they -could not have carried with them more than forty days’ provisions. -Exhausted by scurvy and starvation, “they dropped as they walked -along,”[32] and those few who reached Montreal Island must all have -perished there; and but for their having travelled over the frozen sea -we should have found the remains of these gallant men as they fell by -the way, and but for the land being covered deeply with snow, more -relics of those who had struggled to the beach to die would have been -seen. They all perished, and, in dying in the cause of their country, -their dearest consolation must have been to feel that Englishmen would -not rest until they had followed up their footsteps, and had given to -the world what they could not then give--the grand result of their -dreadful voyage--_their Discovery of the North-West Passage_. They had -sailed down Peel and Victoria Straits, now appropriately named Franklin -Straits, and the poor human skeletons lying upon the shores of the -waters in which Dease and Simpson had sailed from the westward bore -melancholy evidence of their success. - - * * * * * - -By the middle of July the dark blue stream rolled again through Bellot -Straits, but yet not a drop of water could be seen in Regent Inlet. Our -ship was refitted, the stores all on board, and we were quite prepared -for sea. Our engineers were both lost to us, but the Captain soon got -the engines into working order, and determined to drive them himself, -for without steam we could reckon upon nothing. - -[Illustration: - A CHART - showing the - TRACKS OF THE YACHT FOX - despatched by Lady Franklin - under the command of - CAPT’N. M‘CLINTOCK, R.N. - in search of - H.M. SHIPS EREBUS & TERROR - 1857 to 1859. -] - -July passed away, and during the first week in August we could still -see one unbroken surface of ice in Regent Inlet; from the highest -hill not a spoonful of water could be made out. We were getting -rather anxious, for had we been detained another winter, we must have -abandoned the ship in the following spring and trusted to our fortunes -over the ice. However, a gale of wind on the 7th and 8th of August -caused some disruption in the inlet, for on the morning of the 9th a -report came down from the hills that a lead of water was seen under the -land to the northward. Steam was immediately made, and pushing close -past the islands, we were enabled to work up the coast in a narrow lane -of water between it and the pack. - -We reached the north side of Creswell Bay on the following day, but, -the wind changing, we saw the pack setting rapidly in upon the land, -and it had already closed upon Fury Beach. Our only chance was now -to seek a grounded mass of ice, and to hang on to it. We were indeed -glad to get a little rest, and especially for our captain, who had not -left the engines for twenty-four hours. But we lay in a most exposed -position on an open coast without an indentation, the pack closing in -rapidly before the wind and threatening us with the same fate as befell -the _Fury_ when she was driven on the shore about seven miles from our -present position. Hanging on to this piece of ice with every hawser, -we saw it gradually melting and breaking away, and at spring tides it -began to float. On the 15th the gale shifted to the westward, and blew -off the land; we watched the ice gradually easing off, and directly -that we had room, we cast off under storm-sails, and succeeded in -getting out of Regent Inlet and into Lancaster Sound on the following -day. We entered Godhavn, in Greenland, on the night of August 26, and -not having heard from our friends for more than two years, we did -not even wait for daylight for our expected letters. The authorities -on shore kindly sent all they had for us at once to the ship, and I -suppose that letters from home were never opened with more anxiety. - -Having a few repairs to do, especially to our rudder, which, with -the spare one, had been smashed by the ice, we remained a day or two -to patch it up for the passage home. Then leaving Godhavn on the 1st -September, although the nights were extremely dark, and the weather -stormy, with many bergs drifting about, we passed down Davis Strait -without incident, and, rounding Cape Farewell on the 13th, we ran -across the Atlantic with strong, fair winds. Captain M‘Clintock landed -at the Isle of Wight on the 20th, and on the 23rd the _Fox_ entered the -docks at Blackwall. - -Our happy cruise was at an end, and by the mercy of Providence we were -permitted to land again in England. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[31] The wanderings of the Esquimaux may be traced by the circles of -stones by which they keep down their skin summer tents. - -[32] Esquimaux report. - - - - - The First Morning of 1860. - - - One evening mid the summer flown - Has stamp’d my memory more than any; - It pass’d us by among the many, - And yet it stands there, all alone. - - We sate without our open’d room, - While fell the eve’s transparent shade; - The out-door world, all warmth and bloom, - To us a summer parlour made. - - The garden’s cultivated grace, - The luxury of neatness round, - The careless amplitude of space, - The silence, and the casual sound, - - Told of a state thro’ many years - Serenely safe in doing well; - And while we sate, there struck our ears - The summons of the evening bell. - - It call’d to food, it call’d to rest, - The many whom the rich man’s dome - Had gathered in its ample breast, - To them and him alike a home. - - That very hour, was thund’ring o’er - A neighbouring land, the tramp of War, - Which stalked along the lovely shore, - Its shapes to blast, its sounds to mar. - - And ’gainst our own, the reflux wave - Had pushed its harsh in-flooding swell: - The clouds which there a tempest gave, - In shadow on our own land fell. - - The pang my bosom rudely beat-- - What if that fate our own had been? - What if or victory or defeat - Had wrapp’d us in its woe, and sin? - - What if it still our fate should be? - And the safe hours, enjoy’d like this, - Amid our home-scenes safe and free, - Should be the passing year of bliss? - - The new one on the lecturn lies, - Its leaves the turning hand await; - Those fresh unopen’d leaves comprise - Th’ unread, but written words of Fate. - - O God! what are they? if they be - The bloody words of ruffian war, - Grant us success!--but rather far - Avert the scourge of victory! - - Too dear the price! Ah! human forms - Of guardian husbands, cherish’d sons - Once children, hid from smallest harms - Of mind and body, cherish’d ones! - - Shall ye stand up, the gallant mark - Of the brute shot, and iron rod, - And man’s frame, exquisite in work, - Be treated like earth’s common clod? - - Shall England’s polish’d glory, pure - In freedom, wisdom, high estate, - Her open Bible, and her poor - Becoming one with rich and great,-- - - Shall these high things be but the aim - Of envious men, in rough affray, - To try against the noble frame - Their brutal skill to rob and slay? - - Forbid it Thou, who to the strong, - And wise, hast might and counsel lent; - And lead’st them danger’s path along, - Audacious, firm, and confident. - - Forbid it, Thou, who to the weak - Permittest to be strong in pray’r; - From Whom we wives and mothers seek - Peace to endow the new-born year. - - V. - - - - - Roundabout Papers.--No. I. - - - ON A LAZY IDLE BOY. - -[Illustration] - -I had occasion to pass a week in the autumn in the little old town of -Coire or Chur, in the Grisons, where lies buried that very ancient -British king, saint, and martyr, Lucius,[33] who founded the Church of -St. Peter, which stands opposite the house No. 65, Cornhill. Few people -note the church now-a-days, and fewer ever heard of the saint. In the -cathedral at Chur, his statue appears surrounded by other sainted -persons of his family. With tight red breeches, a Roman habit, a curly -brown beard, and a neat little gilt crown and sceptre, he stands, a -very comely and cheerful image: and, from what I may call his peculiar -position with regard to No. 65, Cornhill, I beheld this figure of St. -Lucius with more interest than I should have bestowed upon personages -who, hierarchically, are, I daresay, his superiors. - -The pretty little city stands, so to speak, at the end of the world--of -the world of to-day, the world of rapid motion, and rushing railways, -and the commerce and intercourse of men. From the northern gate, the -iron road stretches away to Zürich, to Basel, to Paris, to home. From -the old southern barriers, before which a little river rushes, and -around which stretch the crumbling battlements of the ancient town, -the road bears the slow diligence or lagging vetturino by the shallow -Rhine, through the awful gorges of the Via Mala, and presently over the -Splügen to the shores of Como. - -I have seldom seen a place more quaint, pretty, calm, and pastoral, -than this remote little Chur. What need have the inhabitants for walls -and ramparts, except to build summer-houses, to trail vines, and hang -clothes to dry? No enemies approach the great mouldering gates: only -at morn and even, the cows come lowing past them, the village maidens -chatter merrily round the fountains, and babble like the ever-voluble -stream that flows under the old walls. The schoolboys, with book and -satchel, in smart uniforms, march up to the gymnasium, and return -thence at their stated time. There is one coffee-house in the town, and -I see one old gentleman goes to it. There are shops with no customers -seemingly, and the lazy tradesmen look out of their little windows at -the single stranger sauntering by. There is a stall with baskets of -queer little black grapes and apples, and a pretty brisk trade with -half a dozen urchins standing round. But, beyond this, there is scarce -any talk or movement in the street. There’s nobody at the book-shop. -“If you will have the goodness to come again in an hour,” says the -banker, with his mouthful of dinner at one o’clock, “you can have the -money.” There is nobody at the hotel, save the good landlady, the kind -waiters, the brisk young cook who ministers to you. Nobody is in the -Protestant church--(oh! strange sight, the two confessions are here -at peace!)--nobody in the Catholic church: until the sacristan, from -his snug abode in the cathedral close, espies the traveller eyeing -the monsters and pillars before the old shark-toothed arch of his -cathedral, and comes out (with a view to remuneration possibly) and -opens the gate, and shows you the venerable church, and the queer old -relics in the sacristy, and the ancient vestments (a black velvet cope, -amongst other robes, as fresh as yesterday, and presented by that -notorious “pervert,” Henry of Navarre and France), and the statue of -St. Lucius, who built St. Peter’s Church, opposite No. 65, Cornhill. - -What a quiet, kind, quaint, pleasant, pretty old town! Has it been -asleep these hundreds and hundreds of years, and is the brisk young -Prince of the Sidereal Realms in his screaming car drawn by his -snorting steel elephant coming to waken it? Time was when there must -have been life and bustle and commerce here. Those vast, venerable -walls were not made to keep out cows, but men-at-arms led by fierce -captains, who prowled about the gates, and robbed the traders us they -passed in and out with their bales, their goods, their pack-horses, and -their wains. Is the place so dead that even the clergy of the different -denominations can’t quarrel? Why, seven or eight, or a dozen, or -fifteen hundred years ago (they haven’t the register, over the way, up -to that remote period. I daresay it was burnt in the fire of London)--a -dozen hundred years ago, when there was some life in the town, St. -Lucius was stoned here on account of theological differences, after -founding our church in Cornhill. - -There was a sweet pretty river walk we used to take in the evening, -and mark the mountains round glooming with a deeper purple; the shades -creeping up the golden walls; the river brawling, the cattle calling, -the maids and chatterboxes round the fountains babbling and bawling; -and several times in the course of our sober walks, we overtook a lazy -slouching boy, or hobbledehoy, with a rusty coat, and trousers not -too long, and big feet trailing lazily one after the other, and large -lazy hands dawdling from out the tight sleeves, and in the lazy hands -a little book, which my lad held up to his face, and which I daresay -so charmed and ravished him, that he was blind to the beautiful sights -around him; unmindful, I would venture to lay any wager, of the lessons -he had to learn for to-morrow; forgetful of mother waiting supper, and -father preparing a scolding;--absorbed utterly and entirely in his book. - -What was it that so fascinated the young student, as he stood by the -river shore? Not the _Pons Asinorum_. What book so delighted him, and -blinded him to all the rest of the world, so that he did not care to -see the apple-woman with her fruit, or (more tempting still to sons of -Eve) the pretty girls with their apple cheeks, who laughed and prattled -round the fountain? What was the book? Do you suppose it was Livy, or -the Greek grammar? No; it was a NOVEL that you were reading, you lazy, -not very clean, good-for-nothing, sensible boy! It was D’Artagnan -locking up General Monk in a box, or almost succeeding in keeping -Charles the First’s head on. It was the prisoner of the Château d’If -cutting himself out of the sack fifty feet under water (I mention the -novels I like best myself--novels without love or talking, or any of -that sort of nonsense, but containing plenty of fighting, escaping, -robbery, and rescuing)--cutting himself out of the sack, and swimming -to the Island of Montecristo. O Dumas! O thou brave, kind, gallant -old Alexandre! I hereby offer thee homage, and give thee thanks for -many pleasant hours. I have read thee (being sick in bed) for thirteen -hours of a happy day, and had the ladies of the house fighting for the -volumes. Be assured that lazy boy was reading Dumas (or I will go so -far as to let the reader here pronounce the eulogium, or insert the -name of his favourite author); and as for the anger, or it may be, the -reverberations of his schoolmaster, or the remonstrances of his father, -or the tender pleadings of his mother that he should not let the supper -grow cold--I don’t believe the scapegrace cared one fig. No! Figs are -sweet, but fictions are sweeter. - -Have you ever seen a score of white-bearded, white-robed warriors, or -grave seniors of the city, seated at the gate of Jaffa or Beyrout, -and listening to the story-teller reciting his marvels out of _Antar_ -or the _Arabian Nights_? I was once present when a young gentleman at -table put a tart away from him, and said to his neighbour, the Younger -Son (with rather a fatuous air), “I never eat sweets.” - -“Not eat sweets! and do you know why?” says T. - -“Because I am past that kind of thing,” says the young gentleman. - -“Because you are a glutton and a sot!” cries the elder (and Juvenis -winces a little). “All people who have natural, healthy appetites, -love sweets; all children, all women, all Eastern people, whose tastes -are not corrupted by gluttony and strong drink.” And a plateful of -raspberries and cream disappeared before the philosopher. - -You take the allegory? Novels are sweets. All people with healthy -literary appetites love them--almost all women;--a vast number of -clever, hard-headed men. Why, one of the most learned physicians in -England said to me only yesterday, “I have just read _So-and-So_ for -the second time” (naming one of Jones’s exquisite fictions). Judges, -bishops, chancellors, mathematicians are notorious novel readers; as -well as young boys and sweet girls, and their kind, tender mothers. Who -has not read about Eldon, and how he cried over novels every night when -he was not at whist? - -As for that lazy naughty boy at Chur, I doubt whether _he_ will like -novels when he is thirty years of age. He is taking too great a glut -of them now. He is eating jelly until he will be sick. He will know -most plots by the time he is twenty, so that _he_ will never be -surprised when the Stranger turns out to be the rightful earl,--when -the old waterman, throwing off his beggarly gabardine, shows his -stars and the collars of his various orders, and clasping Antonia to -his bosom, proves himself to be the prince, her long-lost father. He -will recognize the novelists’ same characters, though they appear in -red-heeled pumps and _ailes-de-pigeon_, or the garb of the nineteenth -century. He will get weary of sweets, as boys of private schools grow -(or used to grow, for I have done growing some little time myself, and -the practice may have ended too)--as private schoolboys used to grow -tired of the pudding before their mutton at dinner. - -And pray what is the moral of this apologue? The moral I take to be -this: the appetite for novels extending to the end of the world;--far -away in the frozen deep, the sailors reading them to one another during -the endless night;--far away under the Syrian stars, the solemn sheikhs -and elders hearkening to the poet as he recites his tales;--far away -in the Indian camps, where the soldiers listen to ----’s tales, or -----’s, after the hot day’s march;--far away in little Chur yonder, -where the lazy boy pores over the fond volume, and drinks it in with -all his eyes;--the demand being what we know it is, the merchant -must supply it, as he will supply saddles and pale ale for Bombay or -Calcutta. - -But as surely as the cadet drinks too much pale ale, it will disagree -with him; and so surely, dear youth, will too much novels cloy on -thee. I wonder, do novel writers themselves read many novels? If you -go into Gunter’s, you don’t see those charming young ladies (to whom -I present my most respectful compliments) eating tarts and ices, but -at the proper evening-tide they have good plain wholesome tea and -bread-and-butter. Can anybody tell me does the author of the _Tale -of two Cities_ read novels? does the author of the _Tower of London_ -devour romances? does the dashing _Harry Lorrequer_ delight in _Plain -or Ringlets_ or _Sponge’s Sporting Tour_? Does the veteran, from -whose flowing pen we had the books which delighted our young days, -_Darnley_, and _Richelieu_, and _Delorme_[34] relish the works of -Alexandre the Great, and thrill over the _Three Musqueteers_? Does -the accomplished author of the _Caxtons_ read the other tales in -_Blackwood_? (For example, that ghost-story printed last August, and -which for my part, though I read it in the public reading-room at the -Pavilion Hotel at Folkestone, I protest frightened me so that I scarce -dared look over my shoulder.) Does _Uncle Tom_ admire _Adam Bede_; and -does the author of the _Vicar of Wrexhill_ laugh over the _Warden_ and -the _Three Clerks_? Dear youth of ingenuous countenance and ingenuous -pudor! I make no doubt that the eminent parties above named all partake -of novels in moderation--eat jellies--but mainly nourish themselves -upon wholesome roast and boiled. - -Here, dear youth aforesaid! our CORNHILL MAGAZINE owners strive to -provide thee with facts as well as fiction; and though it does not -become them to brag of their Ordinary, at least they invite thee to a -table where thou shall sit in good company. That story of the _Fox_ was -written by one of the gallant seamen who sought for poor Franklin under -the awful Arctic Night: that account of China is told by the man of all -the empire most likely to know of what he speaks: those pages regarding -Volunteers come from an honoured hand that has borne the sword in a -hundred famous fields, and pointed the British guns in the greatest -siege in the world. - -Shall we point out others? We are fellow-travellers, and shall make -acquaintance as the voyage proceeds. In the Atlantic steamers, on the -first day out (and on high and holidays subsequently), the jellies -set down on table are richly ornamented; _medioque in fonte leporum_ -rise the American and British flags nobly emblazoned in tin. As the -passengers remark this pleasing phenomenon, the Captain no doubt -improves the occasion by expressing a hope, to his right and left, -that the flag of Mr. Bull and his younger Brother may always float -side by side in friendly emulation. Novels having been previously -compared to jellies--here are two (one perhaps not entirely saccharine, -and flavoured with an _amari aliquid_ very distasteful to some -palates)--two novels under two flags, the one that ancient ensign -which has hung before the well-known booth of _Vanity Fair_; the other -that fresh and handsome standard which has lately been hoisted on -_Barchester Towers_. Pray, sir, or madam, to which dish will you be -helped? - -So have I seen my friends Captain Lang and Captain Comstock press their -guests to partake of the fare on that memorable “First day out,” when -there is no man, I think, who sits down but asks a blessing on his -voyage, and the good ship dips over the bar, and bounds away into the -blue water. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[33] Stow quotes the inscription, still extant, “from the table fast -chained in St. Peter’s Church, Cornhill;” and says “he was after -some chronicle buried at London, and after some chronicle buried at -Glowcester”--but oh! these incorrect chroniclers! when Alban Butler, in -the _Lives of the Saints_, v. xii., and Murray’s _Handbook_, and the -Sacristan at Chur, all say Lucius was killed there, and I saw his tomb -with my own eyes! - -[34] By the way, what a strange fate is that which has befallen the -veteran novelist! He is her Majesty’s Consul-General in Venice, the -only city in Europe where the famous “Two Cavaliers” cannot by any -possibility be seen riding together. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes - -The following changes have been made: - - A table of contents has been added for the convenience of the reader. - - Some illustrations have been moved outside the enclosing paragraphs. - - Changed +dorekie+ to +dovekie+ in “saw a solitary dovekie in winter - plumage” on page 105. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CORNHILL MAGAZINE, VOL. I, -JANUARY 1860 *** - -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. |