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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78175-0.txt b/78175-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc49a17 --- /dev/null +++ b/78175-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2462 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78175 *** + + + “_Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS._”—SHAKESPEARE. + + + + + HOUSEHOLD WORDS. + A WEEKLY JOURNAL. + + + CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. + + N^{o.} 10.] SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1850. [PRICE 2_d._ + + + + + A POPULAR DELUSION. + + +Victimised by a deceptive idea originating in ‘The Complete Angler,’ and +which has been industriously perpetuated by a numerous proprietary of +punts and houses of public entertainment and eel pies—the London +disciples of Izaak Walton usually seek for sport in the upper regions of +the Thames. They resort to Shepperton, or Ditton, or Twickenham, or +Richmond. Chiefly, it would seem, as a wholesome exercise of the +greatest Christian virtue, patience; for recent experience proves that +anglers who soar above sticklebats, and are not content with occasional +nibbles from starving gudgeons, or the frequent entanglements of +writhing eels, mostly return to their homes and families with their +baskets innocent of the vestige of a single scale. + +If—as may be safely asserted—the aim, end, and purpose of all fishing is +fish, the tenacity with which this idea is clung to, is astonishing; we +may indeed say, amazing when we reflect that there exists—-below +bridge—a particular spot, more convenient, more accessible, and +affording quite as good accommodation as any of the above-bridge fishing +stations, and which abounds at particular states of the tide, at +particular times of the day, and at no particular seasons of the year, +but all the year round, in fish of every sort, size, species, and +condition, from the cod down to the sprat; from a salmon to a shrimp; +from turbots to Thames flounders. Neither is there a single member of +any one of these enormous families of fishes that may not be captured +with the smallest possible expenditure of patience. And although the +bait necessary for that purpose (a white bait manufactured of metal at +an establishment on that bank of the Thames known as Tower Hill,) is +unfortunately not always procurable by every class of her Majesty’s +subjects; yet it is so eagerly caught at, that, with a moderate supply, +the least expert may be sure of filling his fish-basket very +respectably. + +In order to partake of all the advantages offered by this famed spot, it +is necessary to rise betimes. The fishing excursion of which we are now +about to give a sketch, commenced at about four o’clock on a Monday +morning. The rain which fell at the time did not much matter, on account +of the sheltered position of that margin of the Thames to which we were +bound. With a small basket, and the waistcoat pocket primed with a +little of the proper sort of bait; with no other rod than a walking +stick, and no fly whatever, (except one upon four wheels procured from a +neighbouring cab stand,) we arrived at the great fish focus; which, we +may as well mention, to relieve suspense, is situated on the Middlesex +shore of the Thames at a short distance below London Bridge, close to +the Custom House, opposite the Coal Exchange, and has been known from +time immemorial as BILLINGSGATE. + +When we arrived at the collection of sheds and stalls—like a dilapidated +railway station—of which this celebrated place consists, it was nearly +five o’clock. Its ancient reputation had prepared us for scenes of +confusion and for volubility of abuse, which have since the times of the +Tritons ever been associated with those whose special business is with +fish. It was, therefore, with very great surprise that we walked +unmolested through that portion of the precinct set aside as the market. +We went straight to the river’s edge, rod in hand, without having had +once occasion to use it as a weapon, and without hearing one word that +might not have been uttered in the Queen’s drawing-room on a court day. +No crowding, no elbowing, no screaming, no fighting: no ungenteel +nick-names, no foul-mouthed females hurling anathemas at their +neighbours’ optics; no rude requests to despatch ourself suddenly down +to the uttermost depth the human mind is capable of conceiving; no wish +expressed that we might be inflated very tight indeed; no criticisms on +the quality of our hat; no impertinent questions as to our present stock +of soap; nothing whatever, in short, calculated to sustain the ancient +reputation of Billingsgate. + +With easy deliberation we sauntered down to the dumb-barge which forms a +temporary landing-place while a better one is being built. There we +beheld a couple of clippers, quite as trim as any revenue-cutter; over +the sides of which were being handed all sorts of fish; cod, soles, +whitings, plaice, John Dorys, mackerel; some neatly packed in baskets. +That nothing should be wanting utterly to subvert established notions of +Billingsgate, the order, quietness, and system with which these cutters +were emptied, and their cargoes taken to the stalls, could not be +exceeded. + +This office is performed by fellowship-porters. Being responsible +individuals, they prevent fraud. Formerly a set of scamps, called +laggers, ‘conveyed’ the fish; but they used to drop some of the best +sort softly into the stream, and pick them up at low water. An idea may +be formed of the profits of their dishonesty, from the fact that laggers +offered seven shillings a day to be employed, instead of demanding the +wages of labour. When a salesman had one or two hundred turbots +consigned to him, a lagger would give the hint to an accomplice, who +would quickly substitute several small fish for the same number of the +largest size; a species of fraud which the salesman had it not in his +power to detect, as the tally was not deficient. + +At that time an immense number of bad fish was condemned every morning +by the superintendent. There was an understanding between the consignees +and salesmen that when the market was well supplied, any overplus should +be kept back in store boats at Gravesend, and not brought to market till +the supply was diminished, and the price raised. This dishonest mode of +‘regulating’ the market caused a great many stale fish to be brought to +it; hence the quantity condemned. Now, however, the celerity with which +fish can be conveyed prevents any such practice, and of late years the +superintendent has only had occasion to condemn in rare instances. + +Every possible expedient and appliance is now resorted to, to bring fish +to market fresh. As we have a minute or two to wait on the Billingsgate +punt before the market opens, let us trace the history of a fish from +the sea to the salesman’s stall. Suppose him to be a turbot hauled with +a hundred other captives early on Monday afternoon on board one of the +Barking fishing fleet moored on a bank some twenty miles off Dover. He +is no sooner taken on board than he is trans-shipped immediately with +thousands of his flat companions in a row-boat into a clipper, which is +being fast filled from other vessels of the fleet. When her cargo is +complete, she sets sail for the mouth of the Thames, and on entering it +is met by a tug steamer, which tows her up to Billingsgate early on +Tuesday morning, bringing our turbot _alive_—for he has been put into a +tank in the hold of the clipper. He is sold as soon as landed, and finds +his way to table in the neighbourhood of the Mansion House or Belgrave +Square some four-and-twenty hours after he has been sporting in the sea, +not less than a hundred and fifty miles off. + +Enormous accessions in the supply of fish to the London market have been +effected, first by the employment of clippers as carrier-boats, (instead +of each fishing-boat bringing its own cargo as formerly,) and secondly, +by the use of steam-tugs for towing the transit-craft up the river. In +the old time a south-westerly wind deprived all London of fish. While it +prevailed the boats, which usually took shelter in Holy or East Haven on +the Essex shore, waited for a change of wind, till the fish became +odoriferous. The cargo was then thrown overboard, and the boats returned +on another fishing voyage. + +The Thames was, at that time, the only highway by which fish was brought +to Billingsgate; but the old losses and delays are again obviated by +another source of acceleration. Our turbot is brought at waggon pace +compared with the more perishable mackerel. The Eddystone lighthouse is +at least two hundred and fifty miles from Thames Street. Between it and +the Plymouth Breakwater lie some hundreds of fishing boats, plying their +trawl-nets. A shoal of mackerel, the superficies of which may be +measured by the mile, find their way among them, and several thousands +dart into the nets. They are captured, hauled on board, shovelled into a +clipper, and while she stands briskly in for shore, busy hands on board +are packing the fish in baskets. Thousands of these baskets are landed +in time for the mail train, rattle their way per railroad to Paddington, +and by seven o’clock on the following morning—that is, in sixteen hours +after they were rejoicing in the ‘ocean wave’—are in a London +fishmonger’s taxed-cart on their road to the gridiron or fish-kettle, as +the taste of the customer dictates. + +No distance appears too great from which to bring fish to Billingsgate. +Packed in long boxes, both by rail and river, between layers of ice, +salmon come daily in enormous quantities from the remotest rivers of +Ireland, of Scotland, and even from Norway. So considerable an item is +ice in the fishmonger’s trade, that a large proprietor at Barking has an +ice-well capable of stowing eight hundred tons. Another in the same line +of business has actually contracted with the Surrey Canal Company for +all the ice generated on their waters! + +As we cogitate concerning these ‘great facts’ on the dumb-barge, and +while the baskets and boxes are being systematically landed, it strikes +five. A bell—the only noisy appurtenance of Billingsgate—stunningly +announces that the market is open. The landing of fish proceeds somewhat +faster, and fishmongers, from all parts of London, and from many parts +of the provinces—from Oxford, Cambridge, Reading, Windsor, &c.—group +themselves round the stalls of such salesmen as appear to have the +choicest fish. These are rapidly sold by (Dutch) auction; and taken to +the buyers’ carts outside the market. + +Nothing can exceed the gentlemanly manner in which the auction is +conducted, except the mode of doing business at Christie and Manson’s. +Before the commencement, the salesman, with his flannel apron protecting +his almost fashionable attire from scaly contact, is seen—behold him +yonder!—seated behind his stall enjoying a mild Havannah, with an +appearance of sublime indifference to all around him. Presently, his +porter deposits a ‘lot’ of fish between him, and an eager group of +buyers. He puts down his cigar and mounts his rostrum. + +“What shall we say, gentlemen, for this score of cod? Shall we say seven +shillings a piece?” + +No answer. + +“Six?” + +Perfect silence. The auctioneer gives pause for consideration, and takes +a whiff at his Havannah. Time is, however, precious, where fish is +concerned, and he is not long in abating another shilling. + +“A crown?” + +“Done!” exclaims Mr. Jollins of Pimlico. + +“Five pounds, if you please!” demands the seller. A note is handed over, +and the twenty cod are hoisted into Mr. Jollins’ cart, which stands in +Thames Street, before a second lot is quite disposed of. + +This mild proceeding is going on all over the market. On looking to see +if the remotest relic of such a being as a fish-fag is to be seen, we +observe a gentleman who, though girded with the flannel uniform of the +craft, has so fashionable a surtout, so elegant a neckerchief, and such +a luxuriance of moustache and whiskers, that we mistake him for an +officer in her Majesty’s Life Guards, selling fish by way of—what in +Billingsgate used to be called—a ‘jolly lark.’ Enquiry proves, however, +that he is the accredited consignee of one of the largest fishing fleets +which sail out of the Thames. + +We are bound to confess that the high tone of refinement which had +hitherto been so well supported on the occasion of our visit, became in +a little while, slightly depressed. As the legislature of the British +empire consists of Crown, Lords, and Commons; so also the executive of +Billingsgate is composed of three estates: first, of the Lord Mayor +(Piscine secretary of state, Mr. Goldham); secondly, of an aristocracy, +and, thirdly, of a commonalty, of salesmen. The latter—called in ancient +Billingsgate _Bummarees_, in modern ditto, ‘Retailers’—are middlemen +between the smaller fishmonger and the high salesman aristocracy. They +purchase the various sorts of fish, and arrange them in small assorted +parcels to suit the convenience of suburban fishmongers, or of those +peripatetic tradesmen, to whom was formerly applied the obsolete term +almost of ‘Costermonger.’ The transactions between these parties were +not conducted under the influence of those strict rules of etiquette +which governed the earlier dealings of the morning. Indeed, we detected +the proprietor of a very respectable looking donkey answering a civil +enquiry from a retailer as to what he was ‘looking for’ with + +“Not you!” + +It is right, however, to add, in justice to the reputation of a locality +which has been so long and so undeservedly regarded as the head quarters +of verbal vulgarity, that a friend of the offender asked him solemnly +_if he remembered were he wos_; and if he warn’t ashamed of his-self for +going and bringing his Cheek into that ’ere markit? + +Connected with the perambulating purveyors, there is a subject of very +great importance; namely, cheap food for the poor. Although painful +revelations of want of proper sustenance in every part of this +overcrowded country, are daily breaking forth to light; although the low +dietaries of most workhouses, and some prisons, are very often +complained of; yet the old Celtic prejudice against fish still exists in +great force among the humbler orders. Few poor persons will eat fish +when they can get meat; many prefer gruel, and some slow starvation. +Divers kinds of wholesome and nutritious fish are now sold at prices not +above the means of the poorest persons; yet, so small is the demand, +that the itinerant vendor—through whom what little that is sold reaches +the humble consumer—makes it a matter of perfect indifference when he +starts from home whether his venture for the day shall be fish or +vegetables. His first visit is to Billingsgate; but if he find things, +as regards price or kind, not to his taste, he adjourns to speculate in +Covent Garden. He has, therefore, no regular market for what might most +beneficially become a staple article. During the fruit season, little or +no fish reaches the humbler classes; because then their purveyors find +dealings with the ‘Garden’ more profitable than dealings at the ‘Gate.’ + +Not long since a large quantity of wholesome fish of various sorts was +left upon the hands of the market superintendent. By the advice of the +Lord Mayor, it was forwarded for consumption to Giltspur Street Compter. +The prisoners actually refused to eat it, and accompanied their refusal +with a jocose allusion to the want of a proper accompaniment of sauce. + +Among the stronger instances of the popular aversion to this kind of +food, we may mention that in 1812, one of the members of the Committee +for the Relief of the Manufacturing Poor, agreed with some fishermen to +take from ten to twenty thousand mackerel a day, at a penny a piece; a +price at which the fishermen said they could afford to supply the London +market, to any extent, were they sure of a regular sale. On the 15th +June, 1812, upwards of seventeen thousand mackerel, delivered at the +stipulated price, were sent to Spitalfields, and sold to the working +weavers at the original cost of a penny a piece. Though purchased with +great avidity by the inhabitants of that district, it soon appeared that +Spitalfields alone would not be equal to the consumption of the vast +quantities of mackerel which daily poured into the market; they were, +therefore, sent for distribution at the same rate, in other parts of the +town; workhouses and other public establishments were also served, and +the supply increased to such a degree, that five hundred thousand +mackerel arrived and were sold in one day. + +This cheap and benevolent supply was eagerly absorbed while the distress +lasted; but as soon as trade revived, the demand fell off and finally +ceased altogether. + +Is this aversion to fish unconquerable? If it be not, what an enormous +augmentation of wholesome food might be procured to relieve the +increasing wants of the humble and needy. All the time the above +experiment was tried, only a small portion of the coast was available +for the supply of the densest inland populations of this island. Now, +there is scarcely a creek or an estuary from which fish cannot be +rapidly transported, however great the distance. + +Compared with the boundless means of supply, and the lightning-like +powers of transit, the price of fish is at present inordinately dear. +But this is solely the fault of the public. The demand is too +inconsiderable to call forth any great and, therefore, economical +system. The voyager, per steam, between the Thames and Scotland, or +between London and Cork, cannot fail to wonder when he sees, as he +surely will see on a warm, calm day, _scores of square miles_ of +haddocks, mackerel, pilchards, herrings, &c.; when he has left on shore +thousands of human beings pining for food. These enormous shoals +approach the land, too, on purpose to be caught. In the History of +British Fishes, Mr. Yarrell says, ‘The law of Nature which obliges +mackerel and many others to visit the shallower water of the shores at a +particular season, appears to be one of those wise and beautiful +provisions of the Creator by which not only is the species perpetuated +with the greatest certainty, but a large portion of the parent animals +are thus brought within the reach of man, who, but for the action of +this law, would be deprived of many of those species most valuable to +him as food. For the mackerel dispersed over the immense surface of the +deep, no effective fishery could be carried on; but approaching the +shore as they do from all directions, and roving along the coast +collected in immense shoals, millions are caught, which yet form but a +very small portion compared with the myriads that escape.’ The fecundity +of some of the species is marvellous. It has been ascertained by actual +experiment, that the roe of the cod fish contains from six to nine +millions of eggs. + +Nor are river fish less abundant. Mr. Yarrell says, that two persons +once calculated from actual observation, that from sixteen to eighteen +hundred of the delicate ingredients for Twickenham pies passed a given +point on the Thames in one minute of time; an average of more than one +hundred thousand per hour. And this _eel-fare_, as it is called, is +going on incessantly for more than two months. The king of fish is +equally prolific, and quite as easily captured. The choicest salmon that +appear in Billingsgate are from the river Bann, near Coleraine. We found +it eighteen pence per pound; yet it is recorded that fourteen hundred +and fifty salmon were taken in that river at one drag of a single net! + +The appetite for fish is, it would seem, an acquired taste; but it would +be of enormous advantage if any means could be devised for encouraging +the consumption of this description of food. In order to commence the +experiment we would suggest the regular introduction of fish into +workhouse and prison dietaries. Formerly, such a measure was not +practicable during the whole of the year, but, with a trifling outlay, +such a system of supply might be organised as would ensure freshness and +constancy. + +The proprietor of the handsome donkey, who led us into this statistical +reverie, informed us—and he was corroborated by his friend—that the only +certainty was the red-herring and periwinkle trade; but then the +competition was so werry great. “_I_ don’t know how it is,” he observed, +“but people’ll buy salt things with all the wirtue dried out on ’em, +but——” + +“That’s because they has a relish,” interrupted the Mentor. + +“But fresh fish,” renewed the other gentleman, with a glance of +displeasure at being interrupted; “fresh fish—all alive, as we cries +’em—fresh fish, mind you!—they can’t abear!” + +We also learnt from these gentlemen that the professors of the Hebrew +faith were the only constant fish-eaters. + +“And wy?” continued the councillor, “cos when they eats fish, they +thinks they’re a fasting!” + +This reminding us that we were actually fasting, we complimented our +friend on his donkey (which he assured us was a ‘Moke’ of the reg’lar +Tantivy breed), and having completed the filling of our basket, were +about to return home to breakfast, with an excellent appetite, and a +high respect for the manners of modern fishmongers, when he hailed us +easily with, “Halloa, you Sir!” + +We went back. + +“I tell you wot,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, in the +direction of the Market Tavern,—“but p’raps you have though.” + +“Have what?” said we. + +“Dined at Simpson’s, the Fish Hord’n’ry,” said he. + +“Never,” said we. + +“Do it!” said he. “You go and have a tuck-out at Simpson’s at four +o’clock in the arternoon (wen me and my old ooman is a going to take our +tea, with a winkle or wot not) and you’ll come out as bright as a star, +and as sleek as this here Moke.” + +We thanked him for his hint towards the improvement of our personal +appearance, which was a little dilapidated at that hour of the morning, +and were so much impressed by the possibility of rivalling the Moke, +that we returned at four o’clock in the afternoon, and climbed up to the +first floor of Mr. Simpson’s house. + +A glance at the clock assured us that Mr. Simpson was a genius. He kept +it back ten minutes, to give stragglers a last chance. Already, the long +table down the whole length of the long low room was nearly full, and +people were sitting at a side table, looking out through windows, like +stern-windows aboard ship, at flapping sails, and rigging. The host was +in the chair, with a wooden hammer ready to his hand; and five several +gentlemen, much excited by hunger and haste, who had run us down on the +stairs, had leaped into seats, and were menacing expected turbots with +their knives. + +We slipped into a vacant chair by a gentleman from the Eastern Counties, +who immediately informed us that Sir Robert Peel was all wrong, and the +agricultural interest blown to shivers. This gentleman had little pieces +of sticking-plaster stuck all over him, and we thought his discontent +had broken out in an eruption, until he informed us that he had been +‘going it, all last week’ with some ruined friends of his who were also +in town, and that ‘champagne and claret always had that effect upon +him.’ + +On our left hand, was an undertaker from Whitechapel. “Here’s a bill,” +says he; “this General Interment! What’s to become of my old hands who +haven’t been what you may call rightly sober these twenty years? Ain’t +there _any_ religious feeling in the country?” + +The company had come, like the fish, from various distances. There was a +respectable Jew provision-merchant from Hamburg, over the way. Next him, +an old man with sunken jaws that were always in motion, like a gutta +percha mouth that was being continually squeezed. He had come from York. +Hard by, a very large smooth-faced old gentleman in an immense ribbed +satin waistcoat, out of Devonshire, attended by a pink nephew who was +walking the London Hospitals. Lower down, was a wooden leg that had +brought the person it belonged to, all the way from Canada. Two +‘parties,’ as the waiter called them, who had been with a tasting-order +to the Docks, and were a little scared about the eyes, belonged to +Doncaster. Pints of stout and porter were handed round, agreeably to +their respective orders. Everybody took his own pint pot to himself, and +seemed suspicious of his neighbour. As the minute hand of the clock +approached a quarter past four, the gentleman from the Eastern Counties +whispered us, that if the country held out for another year, it was as +much as he expected. + +Suddenly a fine salmon sparkled and twinkled like a silver harlequin +before Mr. Simpson. A goodly dish of soles was set on lower down; then, +in quick succession, appeared flounders, fried eels, stewed eels, cod +fish, melted butter, lobster-sauce, potatoes. Savoury steams curled and +curled about the company’s heads, and toyed with the company’s noses. +Mr. Simpson hammered on the table. Grace! + +For one silent moment, Mr. Simpson gazed upon the salmon as if he were +the salmon’s admiring father, and then fell upon him, and helped twenty +people without winking. Five or six flushed waiters hurried to and fro, +and played cymbals with the plates; the company rattled an accompaniment +of knives and forks; the fish were no more, in a twinkling. Boiled beef, +mutton, and a huge dish of steaks, were soon disposed of in like manner. +Small glasses of brandy round, were gone, ere one could say it +lightened. Cheese melted away. Crusts dissolved into air. Mr. Simpson +was gay. He knew the worst the company could do. He saw it done, twice +every day. Again he hammered on the table. Grace! + +Then, the cloth, the plates, the salt-cellars, the knives and forks, the +glasses and pewter-pots, being all that the guests had not eaten or +drunk, were cleared; bunches of pipes were laid upon the table; and +everybody ordered what he liked to drink, or went his way. Mr. Simpson’s +punch, in wicked tumblers of immense dimensions, was the most in favour. +Mr. Simpson himself consorted with a company of generous +spirits—connected with a Brewery, perhaps—and smoked a mild cigar. The +large gentleman out of Devonshire: so large now, that he was obliged to +move his chair back, to give his satin waistcoat play: ordered a small +pint bottle of port, passed it to the pink nephew, and disparaged punch. +The nephew dutifully concurred, but looked at the undertaker’s glass, +out of the corner of his eye, as if he could have reconciled himself to +punch, too, under pressure, on a desart island. The ‘parties’ from the +Docks took rum-and-water, and wandered in their conversation. He of the +Eastern Counties took cold gin-and-water for a change, and for the +purification of his blood. Deep in the oiled depths of the old-fashioned +table, a reflection of every man’s face appeared below him, beaming. +Many pipes were lighted, the windows were opened at top, and a fragrant +cloud enwrapped the company, as if they were all being carried upward +together. The undertaker laughed monstrously at a joke, and the +agriculturist thought the country might go on, say ten years, with good +luck. + +Eighteen pence a-head had done it all—the drink, and smoke, and civil +attendance excepted—and again this was Billingsgate! Verily, there is +‘an ancient and fish-like smell’ about our popular opinions sometimes; +and our hereditary exaltations and depressions of some things would bear +revision! + + + + + GREENWICH WEATHER-WISDOM. + + +In England everybody notices the weather, and talks about the weather, +and suffers by the weather, yet very few of us _know_ anything about it. +The changes of our climate have given us a constant and an insatiable +national disease—consumption; the density of our winter fog has gained +an European celebrity; whilst the general haziness of the atmosphere +induces an Italian or an American to doubt whether we are ever indulged +with a real blue sky. ‘Good day’ has become the national salutation; +umbrellas, water-proof clothes and cough mixtures are almost necessities +of English life; yet, despite these daily and hourly proofs of the +importance of the weather to each and all of us, it is only within the +last ten years that any effectual steps have been taken in England to +watch the weather and the proximate elements which regulate its course +and variations. + +Yet, in those ten years positive wonders have been done, and good hope +established that a continuance of patient enquiry will be rewarded by +still further discoveries. To take a single result it may be mentioned, +that a careful study of the thermometer has shown that a descent of the +temperature of London from forty-five to thirty-two degrees, generally +kills about 300 persons. They may not all die in the very week when the +loss of warmth takes place, but the number of deaths is found to +increase to that extent over the previous average within a short period +after the change. The fall of temperature, in truth, kills them as +certainly as a well aimed cannon-shot. Our changing climate or deficient +food and shelter has weathered them for the final stroke, but they +actually die at last of the weather. + +Before 1838 several European states less apt than ourselves to talk +about the weather, had taken it up as a study, and had made various +contributions to the general knowledge of the subject; but in that year +England began to act. The officials who now and then emerge from the +Admiralty under the title of the ‘Board of Visitors,’ to see what is in +progress at the Greenwich Observatory, were reminded by Mr. Airy, the +astronomer royal, that much good might be done by pursuing a course of +magnetic and meteorological observations. The officials ‘listened and +believed.’ + +The following year saw a wooden fence pushed out behind the Observatory +walls in the direction of Blackheath, and soon afterwards a few +low-roofed, unpainted, wooden buildings were dotted over the enclosure. +These structures are small enough and humble enough to outward view, yet +they contain some most beautifully constructed instruments, and have +been the scene of a series of observations and discoveries of the +greatest interest and value. The stray holiday visitor to Greenwich +Park, who feels tempted to look over the wooden paling sees only a +series of deal sheds, upon a rough grass-plat; a mast some 80 feet high, +steadied by ropes, and having a lanthorn at the top, and a windlass +below; and if he looks closer he perceives a small inner enclosure +surrounded by a dwarf fence, an upright stand with a moveable top +sheltering a collection of thermometers, and here and there a pile of +planks and unused partitioning that helps to give the place an +appearance of temporary expediency—an aspect something between a +collection of emigrant’s cottages and the yard of a dealer in +second-hand building materials. But,—as was said when speaking of the +Astronomical Observatory,—Greenwich is a practical place, and not one +prepared for show. Science, like virtue, does not require a palace for a +dwelling-place. In this collection of deal houses during the last ten +years Nature has been constantly watched, and interrogated with the zeal +and patience which alone can glean a knowledge of her secrets. And the +results of those watches, kept at all hours, and in all weathers, are +curious in the extreme: but before we ask what they are, let us cross +the barrier, and see with what tools the weather-students work. + +The main building is built in the form of a cross, with its chief front +to the magnetic north. It is formed of wood; all iron and other metals +being carefully excluded; for its purpose is to contain three large +magnets, which have to be isolated from all influence likely to +interfere with their truthful action. In three arms of the cross these +magnets are suspended by bands of unwrought, untwisted silk. In the +fourth arm is a sort of double window filled with apparatus for +receiving the electricity collected at the top of the mast which stands +close by. Thus in this wooden shed we find one portion devoted to +electricity—to the detection and registry of the stray lightning of the +atmosphere—and the other three to a set of instruments that feel the +influence and register the variations of the magnetic changes in the +condition of the air. ‘True as the needle to the pole,’ is the burden of +an old song, which now shows how little our forefathers knew about this +same needle, which, in truth, has a much steadier character than it +deserves. Let all who still have faith in the legend go to the +magnet-house, and when they have seen the vagaries there displayed, they +will have but a poor idea of Mr. Charles Dibdin’s sea-heroes whose +constancy is declared to have been as true as their compasses were to +the north. + +Upon entering the magnet-house, the first object that attracts attention +are the jars to which the electricity is brought down. The fluid is +collected, as just stated, by a conductor running from the top of the +mast outside. In order that not the slightest portion may be lost in its +progress down, a lamp is kept constantly burning near the top of the +pole, the light of which keeps warm and dry a body of glass that cuts +off all communication between the conductor and the machinery which +supports it. Another light for the purpose of collecting the electricity +by its flame, is placed above the top of the pole. This light, burning +at night, has given rise to many a strange supposition in the +neighbourhood. It is too high up to be serviceable as a lanthorn to +those below. Besides, who walks in Greenwich Park after the gates are +closed? It can light only the birds or the deer. ‘Then, surely,’ says +another popular legend, ‘it is to guide the ships on the river, when on +their way up at night;—a sort of land-mark to tell whereabouts the +Observatory is when the moon and stars are clouded, and refuse to show +where their watchers are.’ + +All these speculations are idle, for the lights burn when the sun is +shining, as well as at night; and the object of the lower one is that no +trace of moisture, and no approach of cold, shall give the electricity a +chance of slipping down the mast, or the ropes, to the earth, but shall +leave it no way of escape from the wise men below, who want it, and will +have it, whether it likes or no, in their jars, that they may measure +its quantity and its quality, and write both down in their journals. It +is thus that electricity comes down the wires into those jars on our +right as we enter. If very slight, its presence there is indicated by +tiny morsels of pendent gold-leaf; if stronger, the divergence of two +straws show it; if stronger still, the third jar holds its greater +force, whilst neighbouring instruments measure the length of the +electric sparks, or mark the amount of the electric force. At the desk, +close by, sits the observer, who jots down the successive indications. +In his book he registers from day to day, throughout the year, how much +electricity has been in the air, and what was its character, even to +such particulars as to whether its sparks were blue, violet, or purple +in colour. At times, however, he has to exercise great care, and it is +not always that he even then escapes receiving severe shocks. + +Passing on, we approach the magnets. They are three in number; of large +size, and differently suspended, to show the various ways in which such +bodies are acted upon. All hang by bands of unwrought silk. If the silk +were twisted, it would twist the magnets, and the accuracy of their +position would be disturbed. Magnets, like telescopes, must be true in +their adjustment to the hundredth part of a hair’s breadth. One magnet +hangs north and south; another east and west; and a third, like a +scale-beam, is balanced on knife-edges and agate planes, so beautifully, +that when once adjusted and enclosed in its case, it is opened only once +a year, lest one grain of dust, or one small spider, should destroy its +truth; for spiders are as troublesome to the weather-student as to the +astronomer. These insects like the perfect quiet that reigns about the +instruments of the philosopher, and with heroic perseverance persist in +spinning their fine threads amongst his machines. Indeed, spiders +occasionally betray the magnetic observer into very odd behaviour. At +times he may be seen bowing in the sunshine, like a Persian +fire-worshipper; now stooping in this direction, now dodging in that, +but always gazing through the sun’s rays up towards that luminary. He +seems demented, staring at nothing. At last he lifts his hand; he +snatches apparently at vacancy to pull nothing down. In truth his eye +had at last caught the gleam of light reflected from an almost invisible +spider line running from the electrical wire to the neighbouring planks. +The spider who had ventured on the charged wire paid the penalty of such +daring with his life long ago, but he had left his web behind him, and +that beautifully minute thread has been carrying off to the earth a +portion of the electric fluid, before it had been received, and tested, +and registered, by the mechanism below. Such facts show the exceeding +delicacy of the observations. + +For seven years, the magnets suspended in this building were constantly +watched every two hours—every even hour—day and night, except on +Sundays, the object being that some light might be thrown upon the laws +regulating the movements of the mariner’s compass; hence, that whilst +men became wiser, navigation might be rendered safer. The chief +observer—the _genius loci_—is Mr. Glaisher, whose name figures in the +reports of the Registrar-General. He, with two assistants, from year to +year, went on making these tedious examinations of the variations of the +magnets, by means of small telescopes, fixed with great precision upon +pedestals of masonry or wood fixed on the earth, and unconnected with +the floor of the building, occupying a position exactly between the +three magnets. This mode of proceeding had continued for some years with +almost unerring regularity, and certain large quarto volumes full of +figures were the results, when an ingenious medical man, Mr. Brooke, hit +upon a photographic plan for removing the necessity for this perpetual +watchfulness. Now, in the magnet-house, we see light and chemistry doing +the tasks before performed by human labour; and doing them more +faithfully than even the most vigilant of human eyes and hands. Around +the magnets are cases of zinc, so perfect that they exclude all light +from without. Inside those cases, in one place, is a lamp giving a +single ray of prepared light which, falling upon a mirror soldered to +the magnet, moves with its motions. This wandering ray, directed towards +a sheet of sensitive photographic paper, records the magnet’s slightest +motion! The paper moves on by clockwork, and once in four-and-twenty +hours an assistant, having closed the shutters of the building, lights a +lanthorn of _yellow glass_, opens the magnet-boxes, removes the paper on +which the magnets have been enabled to record their own motions, and +then, having put in a fresh sheet of sensitive paper, he shuts it +securely in, winds up the clockwork, puts out his yellow light and lets +in the sunshine. His lanthorn glass is yellow, because the yellow rays +are the only ones which can be safely allowed to fall upon the +photographic paper during its removal from the instrument, to the dish +in which its magnetic picture is to be _fixed_ by a further chemical +process. It is the blue ray of the light that gives the daguerrotypic +likeness;—as most persons who have had their heads off, under the hands +of M. Claudet, or Mr. Beard, or any of their numerous competitors in the +art of preparing sun-pictures, well know. + +Since the apparatus of Mr. Brooke for the self-registration of the +magnetic changes has been in operation at Greenwich, the time of Mr. +Glaisher and his assistants has been more at liberty for other branches +of their duties. These are numerous enough. Thermometers and barometers +have to be watched as well as magnets. To these instruments the same +ingenious photographic contrivance is applied. + +The wooden building next to the magnet-house on the south-west contains +a modification of Mr. Brooke’s ingenious plan, by which the rise and +fall of the temperature of the air is self-registered. Outside the +building are the bulbs of thermometers freely exposed to the weather. +Their shafts run through a zinc case, and as the mercury rises or falls, +it moves a float having a projecting arm. Across this arm is thrown the +ray of prepared light which falls then upon the sensitive paper. Thus we +see the variations of the needle and the variations in heat and cold +both recording their own story, within these humble-looking wooden +sheds, as completely as the wind and the rain are made to do the same +thing, on the top of the towers of the Observatory. The reward given to +the inventor of this ingenious mode of self-registration has been +recently revealed in a parliamentary paper, thus:—‘To Mr. Charles Brooke +for his invention and establishment at the Royal Observatory, of the +apparatus for the self-registration of magnetical and meteorological +phenomena, 500_l._’ Every year the invention will save fully 500_l._ +worth of human toil; and the reward seems small when we see every year +millions voted for warlike, sinecure, and other worse than useless +purposes. + +Photography, however, cannot do all the work. Its records have to be +checked by independent observations every day, and then both have to be +brought to their practical value by comparison with certain tables which +test their accuracy, and make them available for disclosing certain +scientific results. The preparation of such tables is one of the +practical triumphs of Greenwich. Many a quiet country gentleman amuses +his leisure by noting day by day the variations of his thermometer and +barometer. Heretofore such observations were isolated and of no general +value, but now by the tables completed by Mr. Glaisher, and published by +the Royal Society, they may all be converted into scientific values, and +be made available for the increase of our weather-wisdom. For nearly +seventy years the Royal Society had observations made at Somerset House, +but they were a dead letter—mere long columns of figures—till these +tables gave them significance. And the same tables now knit into one +scientific whole, the observations taken by forty scientific volunteers, +who, from day to day, record for the Registrar-General of births and +deaths, the temperature, moisture, &c., of their different localities, +which vary from Glasgow to Guernsey, and from Cornwall to Norwich. + +What the Rosetta stone is to the history of the Pharaohs, these +Greenwich tables have been to the weather-hieroglyphics. They have +afforded something like a key to the language in which the secrets are +written; and it remains for industrious observation and scientific zeal +to complete the modern victory over ancient ignorance. Already, the +results of the Greenwich studies of the weather have given us a number +of curious morsels of knowledge. The wholesale destruction of human life +induced by a fall in the temperature of London has just been noticed. +Besides the manifestation of that fact, we are shown, that instead of a +warm summer being followed by a cold winter, the tendency of the law of +the weather is to group warm seasons together, and cold seasons +together. Mr. Glaisher has made out, that the character of the weather +seems to follow certain curves, so to speak, each extending over periods +of fifteen years. During the first half of each of these periods, the +seasons become warmer and warmer, till they reach their warmest point, +and then they sink again, becoming colder and colder, till they reach +the lowest point, whence they rise again. His tables range over the last +seventy-nine years—from 1771 to 1849. Periods shown to be the coldest, +were years memorable for high-priced food, increased mortality, popular +discontent, and political changes. In his diagrams, the warm years are +tinted brown, and the cold years grey, and as the sheets are turned over +and the dates scanned, the fact suggests itself that a grey period saw +Lord George Gordon’s riots; a grey period was marked by the Reform Bill +excitement; and a grey period saw the Corn Laws repealed. + +A few more morsels culled from the experience of these weather-seers, +and we have done. + +Those seasons have been best which have enjoyed an average +temperature—nor too hot nor too cold. + +The indications are that the climate of England is becoming warmer, and, +consequently, healthier; a fact to be partly accounted for by the +improved drainage and the removal of an excess of timber from the land. + +The intensity of cholera was found greatest in those places where the +air was stagnant; and, therefore, any means for causing its motion, as +lighting fires and improving ventilation, are thus proved to be of the +utmost consequence. + +Some day near the 20th of January—the lucky guess in 1838 of Murphy’s +Weather Almanac—will, upon the average of years, be found to be the +coldest of the whole year. + +In the middle of May there are generally some days of cold, so severe as +to be unexplainable. Humboldt mentions this fact in his Cosmos; and +various authors have tried to account for it,—at present in vain. The +favourite notion, perhaps, is that which attributes this period of cold +to the loosening of the icebergs of the North. Another weather +eccentricity is the usual advent of some warm days at the beginning of +November. + +Certain experiments in progress to test the difference between the +temperature of the Thames and of the surrounding atmosphere are expected +to show the cause of the famous London fog. During the night the Thames +is often from ten to seventeen degrees warmer, and in the day time from +eight to ten degrees colder than the air above it. + +If the theory of weather-cycles holds good, we are to have seasons +colder than the average from this time till 1853, when warmth will begin +again to predominate over cold. A chilly prophecy this to close with, +and therefore, rather let an anecdote complete this chapter on the +Weather-Watchers of Greenwich. + +Amongst other experiments going on some time ago in the Observatory +enclosure, were some by which Mr. Glaisher sought to discover how much +warmth the Earth lost during the hours of night, and how much moisture +the Air would take up in a day from a given surface. Upon the long grass +within the dwarf fence already mentioned were placed all sorts of odd +substances in little distinct quantities. Ashes, wood, leather, linen, +cotton, glass, lead, copper, and stone, amongst other things, were there +to show how each affected the question of radiation. Close by upon a +post was a dish six inches across, in which every day there was +punctually poured one ounce of water, and at the same hour next day, as +punctually was this fluid re-measured to see what had been lost by +evaporation. For three years this latter experiment had been going on, +and the results were posted up in a book; but the figures gave most +contradictory results. There was either something very irregular in the +air, or something very wrong in the apparatus. It was watched for +leakage, but none was found, when one day Mr. Glaisher stepped out of +the magnet-house, and looking towards the stand, the mystery was +revealed. The evaporating dish of the philosopher was being used as a +bath by an irreverent bird!—a sparrow was scattering from his wings the +water left to be drunk by the winds of Heaven. Only one thing remained +to be done; and the next minute saw a pen run through the tables that +had taken three years to compile. The labour was lost—the work had to be +begun again. + + + + + MY WONDERFUL ADVENTURES IN SKITZLAND. + + + CHAPTER THE FIRST. + +The Beginning is a Bore—I fall into Misfortune. + +I am fond of Gardening. I like to dig. If among the operations of the +garden any need for such a work can be at any time discovered or +invented, I like to dig a hole. On the 3d of March, 1849, I began a hole +behind the kitchen wall, where-into it was originally intended to +transplant a plum-tree. The exercise was so much to my taste, that a +strange humour impelled me to dig on. A fascination held me to the task. +I neglected my business. I disappeared from the earth’s surface. A boy +who worked a basket by means of a rope and pulley, aided me; so aided, I +confined my whole attention to spade labour. The centripetal force +seemed to have made me its especial victim. I dug on until Autumn. In +the beginning of November I observed that, upon percussion, the sound +given by the floor of my pit was resonant. I did not intermit my labour, +urged as I was by a mysterious instinct downwards. On applying my ear, I +occasionally heard a subdued sort of rattle, which caused me to form a +theory that the centre of the earth might be composed of mucus. In +November, the ground broke beneath me into a hollow and I fell a +considerable distance. I alighted on the box-seat of a four-horse coach, +which happened to be running at that time immediately underneath. The +coachman took no notice whatever of my sudden arrival by his side. He +was so completely muffled up, that I could observe only the skilful way +in which he manipulated reins and whip. The horses were yellow. I had +seen no more than this, when the guard’s horn blew, and presently we +pulled up at an inn. A waiter came out, and appeared to collect four +bags from the passengers inside the coach. He then came round to me. + +“Dine here, Sir?” + +“Yes, certainly,” said I. I like to dine—not the sole point of +resemblance between myself and the great Johnson. + +“Trouble you for your stomach, Sir.” + +While the waiter was looking up with a polite stare into my puzzled +face, my neighbour, the coachman, put one hand within his outer coat, as +if to feel for money in his waistcoat pocket. Directly afterwards his +fingers came again to light, and pulled forth an enormous sack. +Notwithstanding that it was abnormally enlarged, I knew by observation +of its form and texture that this was a stomach, with the œsophagus +attached. This, then, the waiter caught as it was thrown down to him, +and hung it carelessly over his arm, together with the four smaller bags +(which I now knew to be also stomachs) collected from the passengers +within the coach. I started up, and as I happened to look round, +observed a skeleton face upon the shoulders of a gentleman who sat +immediately behind my back. My own features were noticed at the same +time by the guard, who now came forward, touching his hat. + +“Beg your pardon, Sir, but you’ve been and done it.” + +“Done what?” + +“Why, Sir, you should have booked your place, and not come up in this +clandestine way. However, you’ve been and done it!” + +“My good man, what have I done?” + +“Why, sir, the Baron Terroro’s eyes had the box-seat, and I strongly +suspect you’ve been and sat upon them.” + +I looked involuntarily to see whether I had been sitting upon anything +except the simple cushion. Truly enough, there was an eye, which I had +crushed and flattened. + +“Only one,” I said. + +“Worse for you, and better for him. The other eye had time to escape, +and it will know you again, that’s certain. Well, it’s no business of +mine. Of course you’ve no appetite now for dinner? Better pay your fare, +Sir. To the Green Hippopotamus and Spectacles, where we put up, it’s +ten-and-six.” + +“Is there room inside?” I enquired. It was advisable to shrink from +observation. + +“Yes, Sir. The inside passengers are mostly skeleton. There’s room for +three, Sir. Inside, one-pound-one.” + +I paid the money, and became an inside passenger. + + + CHAPTER THE SECOND. + +Of Divisions which occur in Skitzland—I am taken up. + +Professor Essig’s Lectures on Anatomy had so fortified me, that I did +not shrink from entering the Skitzton coach. It contained living limbs, +loose or attached to skeletons in other respects bare, except that they +were clothed with broadcloth garments, cut after the English fashion. +One passenger only had a complete face of flesh, he had also one living +hand; the other hand I guessed was bony, because it was concealed in a +glove obviously padded. By observing the fit of his clothes, I came to a +conclusion that this gentleman was stuffed throughout; that all his +limbs, except the head and hand, were artificial. Two pairs of Legs, in +woollen stockings, and a pair of Ears, were in a corner of the coach, +and in another corner there were nineteen or twenty Scalps. + +I thought it well to look astonished at nothing, and, having pointed in +a careless manner to the scalps, asked what might be their destination? +The person with the Face and Hand replied to me; and although evidently +himself a gentleman, he addressed me with a tone of unconcealed respect. + +“They are going to Skitzton, Sir, to the hair-dresser’s.” + +“Yes, to be sure,” I said. “They are to make Natural Skin Wigs. I might +have known.” + +“I beg your pardon, Sir. There is a ball to-morrow night at Culmsey. But +the gentry do not like to employ village barbers, and therefore many of +the better class of people send their hair to Skitzton, and receive it +back by the return coach properly cut and curled.” + +“Oh,” said I. “Ah! Oh, indeed!” + +“Dinners, gentlemen!” said a voice at the window, and the waiter handed +in four stomachs, now tolerably well filled. Each passenger received his +property, and pulling open his chest with as much composure as if he +were unbuttoning his waistcoat, restored his stomach, with a dinner in +it, to the right position. Then the reckonings were paid, and the coach +started. + +I thought of my garden, and much wished that somebody could throw +Professor Essig down the hole that I had dug. A few things were to be +met with in Skitzland which would rather puzzle him. They puzzled me; +but I took refuge in silence, and so fortified, protected my ignorance +from an exposure. + +“You are going to Court, Sir, I presume?” said my Face and Hand friend, +after a short pause. His was the only mouth in the coach, excepting +mine, so that he was the only passenger able to enter into conversation. + +“My dear Sir,” I replied, “let me be frank with you. I have arrived here +unexpectedly out of another world. Of the manners and customs, nay, of +the very nature of the people who inhabit this country, I know nothing. +For any information you can give me, I shall be very grateful.” + +My friend smiled incredulity, and said, + +“Whatever you are pleased to profess, I will believe. What you are +pleased to feign a wish for, I am proud to furnish. In Skitzland, the +inhabitants, until they come of age, retain that illustrious appearance +which you have been so fortunate as never to have lost. During the night +of his twenty-first birthday, each Skitzlander loses the limbs which up +to that period have received from him no care, no education. Of those +neglected parts the skeletons alone remain, but all those organs which +he has employed sufficiently continue unimpaired. I, for example, +devoted to the study of the law, forgot all occupation but to think, to +use my senses and to write. I rarely used my legs, and therefore Nature +has deprived me of them.” + +“But,” I observed, “it seems that in Skitzland you are able to take +yourselves to pieces.” + +“No one has that power, Sir, more largely than yourself. What organs we +have we can detach on any service. When dispersed, a simple force of +Nature directs all corresponding members whither to fly that they may +re-assemble.” + +“If they can fly,” I asked, “why are they sent in coaches? There were a +pair of eyes on the box-seat.” + +“Simply for safety against accidents. Eyes flying alone are likely to be +seized by birds, and incur many dangers. They are sent, therefore, +usually under protection, like any other valuable parcel.” + +“Do many accidents occur?” + +“Very few. For mutual protection, and also because a single member is +often all that has been left existing of a fellow Skitzlander our laws, +as you, Sir, know much better than myself, estimate the destruction of +any part absent on duty from its skeleton as a crime equivalent to +murder——” + +After this I held my tongue. Presently my friend again enquired whether +I was going up to Court? + +“Why should I go to Court?” + +“Oh, Sir, it pleases you to be facetious. You must be aware that any +Skitzlander who has been left by Nature in possession of every limb, +sits in the Assembly of the Perfect, or the Upper House, and receives +many state emoluments and dignities.” + +“Are there many members of that Upper Assembly?” + +“Sir, there were forty-two. But if you are now travelling to claim your +seat, the number will be raised to forty-three.” + +“The Baron Terroro—” I hinted. + +“My brother, Sir. His eyes are on the box-seat under my care. +Undoubtedly he is a Member of the Upper House.” + +I was now anxious to get out of the coach as soon as possible. My wish +was fulfilled after the next pause. One Eye, followed by six Pairs of +Arms, with strong hard Hands belonging to them, flew in at the window. I +was collared; the door was opened, and all hands were at work to drag me +out and away. The twelve Hands whisked me through the air, while the one +Eye sailed before us, like an old bird, leader of the flight. + + + CHAPTER THE THIRD. + +My Imprisonment and Trial for Murder. + +What sort of sky have they in Skitzland? Our earth overarches them, and, +as the sunlight filters through, it causes a subdued illumination with +very pure rays. Skitzland is situated nearly in the centre of our globe, +it hangs there like a shrunken kernel in the middle of a nutshell. The +height from Skitzland to the over-arching canopy is great; so great, +that if I had not fallen personally from above the firmament, I should +have considered it to be a blue sky similar to ours. At night it is +quite dark; but during the day there is an appearance in the Heaven of +white spots; their glistening reminded me of stars. I noticed them as I +was being conveyed to prison by the strong arms of justice, for it was +by a detachment of members from the Skitzton Police that I was now +hurried along. The air was very warm, and corroborated the common +observation of an increase of heat as you get into the pith of our +planet. The theory of Central Fire, however, is, you perceive quite +overturned by my experience. + +We alighted near the outskirts of a large and busy town. Through its +streets I was dragged publicly, much stared at, and much staring. The +street life was one busy nightmare of disjointed limbs. Professor Essig, +could he have been dragged through Skitzton, would have delivered his +farewell lecture upon his return. ‘Gentlemen, Fuit Ilium—Fuit +Ischium—Fuit Sacrum—Anatomy has lost her seat among the sciences. My +occupation’s gone.’ Professor Owen’s Book ‘On the Nature of Limbs,’ must +contain, in the next edition, an Appendix ‘Upon Limbs in Skitzland.’ I +was dragged through the streets, and all that I saw there, in the +present age of little faith, I dare not tell you. I was dragged through +the streets to prison and there duly chained, after having been +subjected to the scrutiny of about fifty couples of eyes drawn up in a +line within the prison door. I was chained in a dark cell, a cell so +dark that I could very faintly perceive the figure of some being who was +my companion. Whether this individual had ears wherewith to hear, and +mouth wherewith to answer me, I could not see, but at a venture I +addressed him. My thirst for information was unconquerable; I began, +therefore, immediately with a question: + +“Friend, what are those stars which we see shining in the sky at +mid-day?” + +An awful groan being an unsatisfactory reply, I asked again. + +“Man, do not mock at misery. You will yourself be one of them.” + +‘The Teachers shall shine like Stars in the Firmament.’ I have a +propensity for teaching, but was puzzled to discover how I could give so +practical an illustration of the text of Fichte. + +“Believe me,” I said, “I am strangely ignorant. Explain yourself.” + +He answered with a hollow voice: + +“Murderers are shot up out of mortars into the sky, and stick there. +Those white, glistening specks, they are their skeletons.” + +Justice is prompt in Skitzland. I was tried incredibly fast by a jury of +twelve men who had absolutely heads. The judges had nothing but brain, +mouth and ear. Three powerful tongues defended me, but as they were not +suffered to talk nonsense, they had little to say. The whole case was +too clear to be talked into cloudiness. Baron Terroro, in person, +deposed, that he had sent his eyes to see a friend at Culmsey, and that +they were returning on the Skitzton coach, when I, illegally, came with +my whole bulk upon the box-seat, which he occupied. That one of his eyes +was, in that manner, totally destroyed, but that the other eye, having +escaped, identified me, and brought to his brain intelligence of the +calamity which had befallen. He deposed further, that having received +this information, he despatched his uncrushed eye with arms from the +police-office, and accompanied with several members of the detective +force, to capture the offender, and to procure the full proofs of my +crime. A sub-inspector of Skitzton Police then deposed that he sent +three of his faculties, with his mouth, eye, and ear, to meet the coach. +That the driver, consisting only of a stomach and hands, had been unable +to observe what passed. That the guard, on the contrary, had taxed me +with my deed, that he had seen me rise from my seat upon the murdered +eye, and that he had heard me make confession of my guilt. The guard was +brought next into court, and told his tale. Then I was called upon for +my defence. If a man wearing a cloth coat and trousers, and talking +excellent English, were to plead at the Old Bailey that he had broken +into some citizen’s premises accidentally by falling from the moon, his +tale would be received in London as mine was in Skitzton. I was severely +reprimanded for my levity, and ordered to be silent. The Judge summed up +and the Jury found me Guilty. The Judge, who had put on the black cap +before the verdict was pronounced, held out no hope of mercy, and +straightway sentenced me to Death, according to the laws and usage of +the Realm. + + + CHAPTER THE FOURTH. + +The last Hours of the Condemned in Skitzland—I am executed. + +The period which intervenes between the sentence and execution of a +criminal in Skitzland, is not longer than three hours. In order to +increase the terror of death by contrast, the condemned man is suffered +to taste at the table of life from which he is banished, the most +luscious viands. All the attainable enjoyment that his wit can ask for, +he is allowed to have, during the three hours before he is shot, like +rubbish, off the fields of Skitzland. + +Under guard, of course, I was now to be led whithersoever I desired. + +Several churches were open. They never are all shut in Skitzton. I was +taken into one. A man with heart and life was preaching. People with +hearts were in some pews; people with brains, in others; people with +ears only, in some. In a neighbouring church, there was a popular +preacher, a skeleton with life. His congregation was a crowd of ears, +and nothing more. + +There was a day-performance at the Opera. I went to that. Fine lungs and +mouths possessed the stage, and afterwards there was a great +bewilderment with legs. I was surprised to notice that many of the most +beautiful ladies were carried in and out, and lifted about like dolls. +My guides sneered at my pretence of ignorance, when I asked why this +was. But they were bound to please me in all practicable ways, so they +informed me, although somewhat pettishly. It seems that in Skitzland, +ladies who possess and have cultivated only their good looks, lose at +the age of twenty-one, all other endowments. So they become literally +dolls, but dolls of a superior kind; for they can not only open and shut +their eyes, but also sigh; wag slowly with their heads, and some times +take a pocket-handkerchief out of a bag, and drop it. But as their limbs +are powerless, they have to be lifted and dragged about after the +fashion that excited my astonishment. + +I said then, “Let me see the Poor.” They took me to a workhouse. The +men, there, were all yellow; and they wore a dress which looked as +though it were composed of asphalte; it had also a smell like that of +pitch. I asked for explanation of these things. + +A Superintendent of Police remarked that I was losing opportunities of +real enjoyment for the idle purpose of persisting in my fable of having +dropped down from the sky. However, I compelled him to explain to me +what was the reason of these things. The information I obtained, was +briefly this:—that Nature, in Skitzland, never removes the stomach. +Every man has to feed himself; and the necessity for finding food, +joined to the necessity for buying clothes, is a mainspring whereby the +whole clockwork of civilised life is kept in motion. Now, if a man +positively cannot feed and clothe himself, he becomes a pauper. He then +goes to the workhouse, where he has his stomach filled with a cement. +That stopping lasts a life-time, and he thereafter needs no food. His +body, however, becomes yellow by the superfluity of bile. The +yellow-boy, which is the Skitzland epithet for pauper, is at the same +time provided with a suit of clothes. The clothes are of a material so +tough that they can be worn unrepaired for more than eighty years. The +pauper is now freed from care, but were he in this state cast loose upon +society, since he has not that stimulus to labour which excites industry +in other men, he would become an element of danger in the state. Nature +no longer compelling him to work, the law compels him. The remainder of +his life is forfeit to the uses of his country. He labours at the +workhouse, costing nothing more than the expense of lodging, after the +first inconsiderable outlay for cement wherewith to plug his stomach, +and for the one suit of apparel. + +When we came out of the workhouse, all the bells in the town were +tolling. The Superintendent told me that I had sadly frittered away +time, for I had now no more than half-an-hour to live. Upon that I +leaned my back against a post, and asked him to prepare me for my part +in the impending ceremony by giving me a little information on the +subject of executions. + +I found that it was usual for a man to be executed with great ceremony +upon the spot whereon his crime had been committed. That in case of +rebellions or tumults in the provinces, when large numbers were not +unfrequently condemned to death, the sentence of the law was carried out +in the chief towns of the disturbed districts. That large numbers of +people were thus sometimes discharged from a single market-place, and +that the repeated strokes appeared to shake, or crack, or pierce in some +degree that portion of the sky towards which the artillery had been +directed. I here at once saw that I had discovered the true cause of +earthquakes and volcanoes; and this shows how great light may be thrown +upon theories concerning the hidden constitution of this earth, by going +more deeply into the matter of it than had been done by any one before I +dug my hole. Our volcanoes, it is now proved, are situated over the +market-places of various provincial towns in Skitzland. When a +revolution happens, the rebels are shot up,—discharged from mortars by +means of an explosive material evidently far more powerful than our +gunpowder or gun-cotton; and they are pulverised by the friction in +grinding their way through the earth. How simple and easy truth appears, +when we have once arrived at it. + +The sound of muffled drums approached us, and a long procession turned +the corner of a street. I was placed in the middle of it,—Baron Terroro +by my side. All then began to float so rapidly away, that I was nearly +left alone, when forty arms came back and collared me. It was considered +to be a proof of my refractory disposition, that I would make no use of +my innate power of flight. I was therefore dragged in this procession +swiftly through the air, drums playing, fifes lamenting. + +We alighted on the spot where I had fallen, and the hole through which I +had come I saw above me. It was very small, but the light from above +shining more vividly through it made it look, with its rough edges, like +a crumpled moon. A quantity of some explosive liquid was poured into a +large mortar, which had been erected (under the eye of Baron Terroro) +exactly where my misfortune happened. I was then thrust in, the Baron +ramming me down, and pounding with a long stock or pestle upon my head +in a noticeably vicious manner. The Baron then cried “Fire!” and as I +shot out, in the midst of a blaze, I saw him looking upward. + + + CHAPTER THE FIFTH. + +My revenge on the Skitzlanders. + +By great good fortune, they had planted their artillery so well, that I +was fired up through my hole again, and alighted in my own garden, just +a little singed. My first thought was to run to an adjoining bed of +vegetable marrows. Thirty vegetable marrows and two pumpkins I rained +down to astonish the Skitzlanders, and I fervently hope that one of them +may have knocked out the remaining eye of my vindictive enemy, the +Baron. I then went into the pantry, and obtained a basket full of eggs, +and having rained these down upon the Skitzlanders, I left them. + +It was after breakfast when I went down to Skitzland, and I came back +while the dinner bell was ringing. + + + + + BIRTH SONG. + + + Hail, new-waked atom of the Eternal whole, + Young voyager upon Time’s mighty river! + Hail to thee, Human Soul, + Hail, and for ever! + Pilgrim of life, all hail! + He who at first called forth + From nothingness the earth, + Who clothed the hills in strength, and dug the sea; + Who gave the stars to gem + Night, like a diadem, + Thou little child, made thee; + Young habitant of earth, + Fair as its flowers, though brought in sorrow forth, + Thou art akin to God who fashioned thee! + + The Heavens themselves shall vanish as a scroll, + The solid earth dissolve, the stars grow pale, + But thou, oh Human Soul, + Shalt be immortal! Hail! + Thou young Immortal, hail! + He, before whom are dim + Seraph and cherubim, + Who gave the archangels strength and majesty, + Who sits upon Heaven’s throne, + The Everlasting One, + Thou little child, made thee! + Fair habitant of Earth, + Immortal in thy God, though mortal by thy birth, + Born for life’s trials, hail, all hail to thee! + + + SONG OF DEATH. + + Shrink not, O Human Spirit, + The Everlasting Arm is strong to save! + Look up, look up, frail nature, put thy trust + In Him who went down mourning to the dust, + And overcame the grave! + Quickly goes down the sun; + Life’s work is almost done; + Fruitless endeavour, hope deferred, and strife! + One little struggle more, + One pang, and then is o’er + All the long, mournful, weariness of life. + Kind friends, ’tis almost past; + Come now and look your last! + Sweet children, gather near, + And his last blessing hear, + See how he loved you who departeth now! + And, with thy trembling step and pallid brow, + O, most beloved one, + Whose breast he leaned upon, + Come, faithful unto death, + Receive his parting breath! + The fluttering spirit panteth to be free, + Hold him not back who speeds to victory! + —The bonds are riven, the struggling soul is free! + + Hail, hail, enfranchised Spirit! + Thou that the wine-press of the field hast trod! + On, blest Immortal, on, through boundless space, + And stand with thy Redeemer face to face; + And stand before thy God! + Life’s weary work is o’er, + Thou art of earth no more; + No more art trammelled by the oppressive clay, + But tread’st with winged ease + The high acclivities + Of truths sublime, up Heaven’s crystalline way. + Here no bootless quest; + This city’s name is Rest; + Here shall no fear appal; + Here love is all in all; + Here shalt thou win thy ardent soul’s desire; + Here clothe thee in thy beautiful attire. + Lift, lift thy wond’ring eyes! + Yonder is Paradise, + And this fair shining band + Are spirits of thy land! + And these who throng to meet thee are thy kin, + Who have awaited thee, redeemed from sin! + —The city’s gates unfold—enter, oh! enter in! + + + + + THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN. + + + IN THREE PARTS.—CHAPTER III. + +Mr. Finch was standing in front of his bookcase, deeply occupied in +ascertaining a point in ecclesiastical history, when he was told that +Ann Warrender wished to speak to him. + +“O dear!” he half-breathed out. He had for some time been growing +nervous about the state of things at Bleaburn; and there was nothing he +now liked so little as to be obliged to speak face to face with any of +the people. It was not all cowardice; though cowardice made up sadly too +much of it. He did not very well know how to address the minds of his +people; and he felt that he could not do it well. He was more fit for +closet study than for the duties of a parish priest; and he ought never +to have been sent to Bleaburn. Here he was, however; and there was Ann +Warrender waiting in the passage to speak to him. + +“Dear me!” said he, “I am really very busy at this moment. Ask Ann +Warrender if she can come again to-morrow.” + +To-morrow would not do. Ann followed the servant to the door of the +study to say so. Mr. Finch hastily asked her to wait a moment, and shut +the door behind the servant. He unlocked a cupboard, took out a green +bottle and a wineglass, and fortified himself against infection with a +draught of something whose scent betrayed him to Ann the moment the door +was again opened. + +“Come in,” said he, when the cupboard was locked. + +“Will you please come, sir, and see John Billiter? He is not far from +death; he asked for you just now; so I said I would step for you.” + +“Billiter! The fever has been very fatal in that house, has it not? Did +not he lose two children last week?” + +“Yes, sir; and my father thinks the other two are beginning to sicken. +I’m sure I don’t know what will become of them. I saw Mrs. Billiter +stagger as she crossed the room just now; and she does not seem, +somehow, to be altogether like herself this morning. That looks as if +she were beginning. But if you will come and pray with them, Sir, that +is the comfort they say they want.” + +“Does your father allow you to go to an infected house like that?” asked +Mr. Finch. “And does he go himself?” + +Ann looked surprised, and said she did not see what else could be done. +There was no one but her father who could lift John Billiter, or turn +him in his bed; and as for her, she was the only one that Mrs. Billiter +had to look to, day and night. The Good Lady went in very often, and did +all she could; but she was wanted in so many places, besides having her +hands full with the Johnsons, that she could only come in and direct and +cheer them, every few hours. She desired to be sent for at any time, +night or day; and they did send when they were particularly distressed, +or at a loss; but for regular watching and nursing, Ann said the +Billiters had no one to depend on but herself. She could not stay +talking now, however. How soon might she say that Mr. Finch would come? + +Mr. Finch was now walking up and down the room. He said he would +consider, and let her know as soon as he could. + +“John Billiter is as bad as can be, Sir. He must be very near his end.” + +“Ah! well; you shall hear from me very soon.” + +As Ann went away, she wondered what could be the impediment to Mr. +Finch’s going with her. He, meantime, roused his mind to undertake a +great argument of duty. It was with a sense of complacency, even of +elevation, that he now set himself to work to consider of his +duty—determined to do it when his mind was made up. + +He afterwards declared that he went to his chamber to be secure against +interruption, and there walked up and down for two hours in meditation +and prayer. He considered that it had pleased God that he should be the +only son of his mother, whose whole life would be desolate if he should +die. He thought of Ellen Price, feeling almost sure that she would marry +him whenever he felt justified in asking her; and he considered what a +life of happiness she would lose if he should die. He remembered that +his praying with the sick would not affect life on the one side, while +it might on the other. The longer he thought of Ellen Price and of his +mother, and of all that he might do if he lived, the more clear did his +duty seem to himself to become. At the end of the two hours, he was +obliged to bring his meditations to a conclusion; for Ann Warrender’s +father had been waiting for some time to speak to him, and would then +wait no longer. + +“It is not time lost, Warrender,” said Mr. Finch, when at last he came +down stairs. “I have been determining my principle, and my mind is made +up.” + +“Then, Sir, let us be off, or the man will be dead. What! you cannot +come, Sir! Why, bless my soul!” + +“You see my reasons, surely, Warrender.” + +“Why, yes; such as they are. The thing that I can’t see the reason for, +is your being a clergyman.” + +While Mr. Finch was giving forth his amiable and gentlemanly notions of +the position of a clergyman in society, and of filial consideration, +Warrender was twirling his hat, and fidgetting, as if in haste; and his +summing up was—— + +“I don’t know what your mother herself might say, Sir, to your +consideration for her; but most likely she has, being a mother, noticed +that saying about a man leaving father and mother, and houses and lands, +for Christ’s sake; and also——But it is no business of mine to be +preaching to the clergyman, and I have enough to do, elsewhere.” + +“One thing more, Warrender. I entrust it to you to let the people know +that there will be no service in church during the infection. Why, do +not you know that, in the time of the plague, the churches were closed +by order, because it was found that the people gave one another the +disease, by meeting there?” + +John had never heard it; and he was sorry to hear it now. He hastened +away to the Good Lady, to ask her if he must really tell the afflicted +people that all religious comfort mast be withheld from them now, when +they were in the utmost need of it. Meantime, Mr. Finch was entering at +length in his diary, the history of his conflict of mind, his decision, +and the reasons of it. + +Henceforth, Mr. Finch had less time for his diary, and for clearing up +points of ecclesiastical history. There were so many funerals that he +could never be sure of leisure; nor, when he had it, was he in a state +to use it. Sometimes he almost doubted whether he was in his right mind, +so overwhelmingly dreadful to him was the scene around him. He met +Farmer Neale one day. Neale was at his wit’s end what to do about his +harvest. Several of his labourers were dead, and others were kept aloof +by his own servants, who declared they would all leave him if any person +from Bleaburn was brought among them; and no labourers from a distance +would come near the place. Farmer Neale saw no other prospect than of +his crops rotting on the ground. + +“You must offer high wages,” said Mr. Finch. “You must be well aware +that you do not generally tempt people into your service by your rate of +wages. You must open your hand at such a time as this.” + +Neale was ready enough now to give good wages; but nobody would reap an +acre of his for love or money. He was told to be thankful that the fever +had spared his house; but he said it was no use bidding a man be +thankful for anything, while he saw his crops perishing on the ground. + +Next, Mr. Finch saw, in his afternoon ride, a waggon-load of coffins +arrive at the brow from O——. He saw them sent down, one by one, on men’s +shoulders, to be ranged in the carpenter’s yard. The carpenter could not +work fast enough; and his stock of wood was so nearly exhausted that +there had been complaints, within the last few days, that the coffins +would not bear the least shock, but fell to pieces when the grave was +opened for the next. So an order was sent to O—— for coffins of various +sizes; and now they were carried down the road, and up the street, +before the eyes of some who were to inhabit one or another of them. The +doctor, hurrying from house to house, had hardly a moment to spare, and +no comfort to give. He did not see what there was to prevent the whole +population from being swept away. He was himself almost worn out; and +just at such a moment, his surgery boy had disappeared. He had no one +that he could depend on to help him in making up the medicines, or even +to deliver them. The fact was, he said in private, the place was a +pest-house; and, except to Miss Pickard, he did not know where to look +for any aid or any hope whatever. It would not do to say so to the +people; but, frankly speaking, this was what he felt. When the pastor’s +heart was thus sunk very low, he thought he would just pass the Plough +and Harrow, and see who was there. If there were any cheerful people in +Bleaburn, that was where they would be found. At the Plough and Harrow, +the floor was swept and the table was clean; and the chimney was +prettily dressed with green boughs; but there were only two customers +there; and they were smoking their pipes in silence. The landlord said +the scores were run up so high, he could not give more credit till +better days. The people wanted their draught of comfort badly enough, +and he had given it as long as he could; but he must stop somewhere: and +if the baker had to stop scores (as he knew he had) the publican had +little chance of getting his own. At such a time, however, he knew men +ought to be liberal; so he went on serving purl and bitters at five in +the morning. The men said it strengthened their stomachs against the +fever before they went to work (such of them as could work) and God +forbid he should refuse them that! But he knew the half of those few +that came at five in the morning would never be able to pay their score. +Yet did the publican, amidst all these losses, invite the pastor to sit +down and have a cheerful glass; and the pastor did not refuse. There was +too little cheerfulness to be had at present to justify him in declining +any offer of it. So he let the landlord mix his glass for him, and mix +it strong. + +It was easy to make the mixture strong; but not so easy to have a +‘cheerful glass.’ The host had too many dismal stories to tell for that; +and, when he could be diverted from the theme of the fate of Bleaburn, +it was only to talk of the old king’s madness, and the disasters of the +war, and the weight of the taxes, and the high price of food, and the +riots in the manufacturing districts; a long string of disasters all +undeniably true. He was just saying that he had been assured that +something would soon appear which would explain the terrors of the time, +when a strange cry was heard in the street, and a bustle among the +neighbours; and then two or three people ran in and exclaimed, with +white lips, that there was a fearful sign in the sky. + +There indeed it was, a lustrous thing, shining down into the hollow. Was +there ever such a star seen,—as large as a saucer—some of the people +said, and with a long white tail, which looked as if it was about to +sweep all the common stars out of the sky! The sounds of amazement and +fear that ran along the whole street, up and down, brought the +neighbours to their doors; and some to the windows, to try how much they +could see from windows that would not open. Each one asked somebody else +what it was; but all agreed that it was a token of judgment, and that it +accounted for everything; the cold spring, the bad crops, the king’s +illness, the war, and this dreadful sickly autumn. At last, they +bethought them of the pastor, and they crowded round him for an +explanation. They received one in a tone so faltering as to confirm +their fears, though Mr. Finch declared that it certainly must be a +comet: he had never seen a comet; but he was confident this must be one, +and that it must be very near the earth:—he did not mean near enough to +do any harm;—it was all nonsense talking of comets doing any harm. + +“Will it do us any good, Sir?” asked the carpenter, sagely. + +“Not that I know of. How should it do us any good? + +“Exactly so, Sir: that is what we say. It is there for no good, you may +rely upon it: and, for the rest, Heaven knows!” + +“I hope farmer Neale may be seeing it,” observed a man to his neighbour. +“It may be a mercy to him, if it is sent to warn him of his hard ways.” + +“And the doctor, too. I hope it will take effect upon him,” whispered +another. The whisper was caught up and spread. “The doctor! the doctor!” +every one said, glancing at the comet, and falling to whispering again. + +“What are they saying about the doctor?” whispered Mr. Finch to the +landlord. “What is the matter about him?” But the landlord only shook +his head, and looked excessively solemn in the yellow light which +streamed from his open door. After this, Mr. Finch was very silent, and +soon stole away homewards. Some who watched him said that he was more +alarmed than he chose to show. And this was true. He was more shaken +than he chose to admit to his own mind. He would not have acknowledged +to himself that he, an educated man, could be afraid of a comet: but, +unnerved before by anxiety of mind, and a stronger dose of spirit and +water than he had intended to take, he was as open to impression as in +the most timid days of his childhood. As he sat in his study, the +bright, silent, steady luminary seemed to be still shining full upon his +very heart and brain: and the shadowy street, with its groups of gazers, +was before his eyes; and the hoarse or whimpering voices of the +terrified people were in his ear. He covered his eyes, and thought that +he lived in fearful times. He wished he was asleep: but then, there were +three funerals for to-morrow! He feared he could not sleep, if he went +to bed. Yet, to sit up would be worse; for he could not study to-night, +and sitting up was the most wearing thing of all to the nerves. +Presently he went to his cupboard. Now, if ever, was the time for a +cordial; for how should he do his duty, if he did not get sleep at +night, with so many funerals in the morning? So he poured out his +medicine, as he called it, and uncorked his laudanum bottle, and +obtained the oblivion which is the best comfort of the incapable. + + + PART II. + CHAPTER IV. + +There were some people in Bleaburn to whom the sign in heaven looked +very differently. On the night when the people assembled in the street +to question each other about it, Mary was at the Billiters’ house, +where, but for her, all would have been blank despair. Mrs. Billiter lay +muttering all night in the low delirium of the fever; and Mary could not +do more for her than go to the side of her mattress now and then, to +speak to her, and smooth her pillow, or put a cool hand on her forehead, +while one of the dying children hung on the other shoulder. At last, the +little fellow was evidently so near death that the slightest movement on +her part might put out the little life. As he lay with his head on her +shoulder, his bony arms hanging helpless, and his feet like those of a +skeleton across her lap, she felt every painful breath through her whole +frame. She happened to sit opposite the window; and the window, which +commanded a part of the brow of the hollow, happened to be open. +Wherever the Good Lady had been, the windows would open now; and, when +closed, they were so clear that the sunshine and moonlight could pour in +cheerfully. This September night was sultry and dry; and three fever +patients in two little low rooms needed whatever fresh air could be had. +There sat Mary, immoveable, with her eyes fixed on the brow from which +she had seen more than one star come up, since she last left her seat. +She now and then spoke cheerfully to the poor mutterer in the other +room, to prevent her feeling lonely, or for the chance of bringing back +her thoughts to real things: and then she had to soothe little Ned, +lying on a bed of shavings in the corner, sore and fretful, and needing +the help that she could not stir to give. His feeble cry would have +upset any spirits but Mary’s; but her spirits were never known to be +upset, though few women have gone through such ghastly scenes, or +sustained such tension of anxiety. + +“I cannot come to you at this moment, Ned,” said she, “but I will +soon,—very soon. Do you know why your brother is not crying? He is going +to sleep,—for a long quiet sleep. Perhaps he will go to sleep more +comfortably if you can stop crying. Do you think you can stop crying, +Ned?” + +The wailing was at once a little less miserable, and by degrees it came +to a stop as Mary spoke. + +“Do you know, your little brother will be quite well, when he wakes from +that long sleep. It will be far away from here,—where daddy is.” + +“Let me go, too.” + +“I think you will go, Ned. If you do, you will not live here any more. +You will live where daddy is gone.” + +“Will Dan Cobb tease me then? Dan does tease us so!” + +Mary had to learn who Dan Cobb was,—a little boy next door, who was not +in the fever as yet. He was always wanting Ned’s top. Would he want +Ned’s top in that place where they were all going to be well? + +“No,” said Mary; “and you will not want it, either. When we go to that +place, we have no trouble of carrying anything with us. We shall find +whatever we want there.” + +“What shall I play at?” + +“I don’t know till we go and see; but I am sure it will be with +something better than your top. But, Ned, are you angry with Dan? Do you +wish that he should have the fever? And are you glad or sorry that he +has no top?” + +By this time the crying had stopped; and Ned, no longer filling his ears +with his own wailing, wondered and asked what that odd sound was,—he did +not like it. + +“It will soon be over,” said Mary, very gently. “It is your brother just +going to sleep. Now, lie and think what you would say to Dan, if you +were going a long way off, and what you would like to be done with your +top, when you do not want it yourself. You shall tell me what you wish +when I come to you presently.” + +Whether Ned was capable of thinking she could not judge, but he lay +quite silent for the remaining minutes of his little brother’s life;—a +great comfort to Mary, who could not have replied, because the mere +vibration of her own voice would now have been enough to stop entirely +the breathings which came at longer and longer intervals. Her frame +ached, and her arms seemed to have lost power,—so long was it since she +had changed her posture. At such a moment it was that the great comet +came up from behind the brow. The apparition was so wonderful, and so +wholly unexpected, that Mary’s heart beat; but it was from no fear, but +rather a kind of exhilaration. Slowly it ascended, proving that it was +no meteor, as she had at the first moment conjectured. When the bright +tail disclosed itself, she understood the spectacle, and rejoiced in it, +she scarcely knew why. + +When at last the breathing on her shoulder ceased, she let down the +little corpse upon her knee, and could just see, by the faint light from +the rush candle in the outer room, that the eyes were half closed, and +the face expressive of no pain. She closed the eyes, and, after a +moment’s silence, said: + +“Now, Ned, I am coming to you, in a minute.” + +“Is he asleep?” + +“Yes. He is in the quiet long sleep I told you of.” + +Ned feebly tried to make room for his brother on the poor bed of +shavings; and he wondered when Mary said that she was making a bed in +the other corner which would do very well. She was only spreading +mammy’s cloak on the ground, and laying her own shawl over the sleeper; +but she said that would do very well. + +Mary was surprised to find Ned’s mind so clear as that he had really +been thinking about Dan and the top. She truly supposed that it was the +clearing before death. He said: + +“You told me daddy was dead. Am I going to be dead?” + +“Yes, I think so. Would not you like it?—to go to sleep, and then be +quite well?” + +“But, shan’t I see Dan, then?” + +“Not for a long time, I dare say: and whenever you do, I don’t think you +and he will quarrel again. I can give Dan any message, you know.” + +“Tell him he may have my top. And tell him I hope he won’t have the +fever. I’m sure I don’t like it at all. I wish you would take me up, and +let me be on your knee.” + +Mary could not refuse it, though it was soon to be going over again the +scene just closed. Poor Ned was only too light, as to weight; but he was +so wasted and sore that it was not easy to find a position for him. For +a few minutes he was interested by the comet, which he was easily led to +regard as a beautiful sight, and then he begged to be laid down again. + +The sun was just up when Mary heard the tap at the door below, which +came every morning at sunrise. She put her head out of the window, and +said softly that she was coming,—would be down in two minutes. She laid +poor Ned beside his brother, and covered him with the same shawl; drew +off the old sheets and coverlid from the bed of shavings, bundled them +up with such towels as were in the room, and put them out of the window, +Warrender being below, ready to receive them. She did not venture to let +the poor mother see them, delirious as she was. Softly did Mary tread on +the floor, and go down the creaking stair. When she reached the street +she drew in, with a deep sigh, the morning air. + +“The poor children’s bedding,” she said to Warrender. + +“They are gone?” he inquired. “What, both?” + +“One just before midnight. The other half-an-hour ago. And their mother +will follow soon.” + +“The Lord have mercy upon us,” said Warrender, solemnly. + +“I think it is mercy to take a family thus together,” replied Mary. “But +I think of poor Aunty. If I could find any one to sit here for +half-an-hour, I would go to her, and indeed, I much wish it.” + +“There is a poor creature would be glad enough to come, ma’am, if she +thought you would countenance it. A few words will tell you the case. +She is living with Simpson, the baker’s man, without being his wife. +Widow Johnson was very stern with her, and with her daughter, Billiter, +for being neighbourly with the poor girl—though people do say that +Simpson deceived her cruelly. I am sure, if I might fetch Sally, she +would come, and be thankful; and——” + +“O! ask her to come and help me. If she has done wrong, that is the more +reason why she should do what good she can. How is Ann?” + +“Pretty well. Rather worn, as we must all expect to be. She never stood +so many hours at the wash-tub, any one day, as she does now every day: +but then, as she says, there never was so much reason.” + +“And you, yourself?” + +“I am getting through, ma’am, thank you. I seem to see the end of the +white-washing, for one thing. They have sent us more brushes of the +right sort from O——, and I should like, if I could, to get two or three +boys into training. They might do the outhouses and the lower parts, +where there are fewest sick, while I am upstairs. But, for some reason +or other, the lads are shy of me. There is some difference already, I +assure you, ma’am, both as to sight and smell; but there might be more, +if I could get better help.” + +“And you are careful, I hope, for Ann’s sake, to put all the linen first +into a tub of water outside.” + +“Yes, surely. I got the carpenter’s men to set a row of tubs beside our +door, and to promise to change the water once a day. I laughed at them +for asking if they could catch the fever that way: and they are willing +enough to oblige where there’s no danger. Simpson offered to look to our +boiler as he goes to the bakehouse when, as he says, Ann and I ought to +be asleep. I let him do it and thank him; but it is not much that we +sleep, or think of sleeping, just now.” + +“Indeed,” said Mary, “you have a hard life of it, and without pay or +reward, I am afraid. I never saw such——” + +“Why, ma’am,” said Warrender, “you are the last person to say those sort +of things. However, it is not a time for praising one another, when +there are signs in the heaven, and God’s wrath on earth.” + +“You saw the comet, did you? How beautiful it is! It will cheer our +watch at nights now. Ah! you see I don’t consider it anything fearful, +or a sign of anything but that, having a new sort of stars brought +before our eyes to admire, we don’t understand all about the heavens +yet, though we know a good deal; and just so with the fever: it is a +sign, not of wrath, as I take it, but that the people here do not +understand how to keep their health. They have lived in dirt, and damp, +and closeness, some hungry and some drunken: and when unusual weather +comes, a wet spring and a broiling summer, down they sink under the +fever. Do you know, I dare not call this God’s wrath.” + +Warrender did not like to say it, but the thought was in his mind, why +people were left so ignorant and so suffering. Mary was quick at reading +faces, and she answered the good fellow’s mind, while she helped to +hoist the bundle of linen on his shoulder. + +“We shall see, Warrender, whether the people can learn by God’s +teaching. He is giving us a very clear and strong lesson now.” + +Warrender touched his hat in silence, and walked away. + +Aunty had for some time been out of danger from the fever, or Mary could +not have left her to attend on the Billiters, urgent as was their need. +But her weakness was so great that she had to be satisfied to lie still +all day in the intervals of Mary’s little visits. Poor Jem brought her +this and that, when she asked for it, but he was more trouble than help, +from his incurable determination to shut all doors and windows, and keep +a roaring fire: he did everything else, within his power, that his +mother desired him, but on these points he was immoveable. If ever his +mother closed her eyes, he took the opportunity to put more wood on the +fire; and he looked so grievously distressed if requested to take it off +again, that at last he was let alone. Mary was fairly accustoming him to +occupy himself in bringing pails of water and carrying away all refuse, +when she was summoned to the Billiters; but the hint was given, and the +neighbours saw that they need no longer use water three or four times +over for washing, while poor Jem was happy to carry it away, rinse the +pails, and bring fresh. His cousin Mary had often of late found him thus +engaged: but this morning he was at home, cowering in a chair. When she +set the windows open, he made no practical objection; and the fire was +actually out. Mary was not therefore surprised at Aunty’s reply to her +inquiries. + +“I am tolerably easy myself, my dear, but I can’t tell what has come +over Jem; it seems to me that somebody must have been giving him drink, +he staggered so when he crossed the room half-an-hour ago; yet I hardly +think he would take it, he has such a dislike to everything strong. What +a thing it is that I am lying here, unable to stir to see about it +myself!” + +“We will see about it,” said Mary, going to poor Jem. “I neither think +he would touch drink, nor that any body would play such a trick with him +at such a time. No,” she went on, when she had felt his pulse and looked +well at his face, “it is not drink: it is illness.” + +“The fever,” groaned the mother. + +“I think so. Courage, Aunty! we will nurse him well: and the house is +wholesome now, you know. You are through the fever: and his chance is a +better one than yours, the house is so much more airy, and I have more +experience.” + +“But, Mary, you cannot go on for ever, without sleep or rest, in this +way. What is to be done, I don’t see.” + +“I do, Aunty. I am very well to-day. To-morrow will take care of itself. +I must get Jem to bed; and if he soon seems to be moaning and restless, +you must mind it as little as you can. It is very miserable, as you have +good reason to know; but——” + +“I know something that you do not, I see,” said Aunty. “A more patient +creature than my poor Jem does not live in Bleaburn, nor anywhere else.” + +“What a good chance that gives him!” observed Mary, “and what a blessing +it is, for himself and for you! I must go to my cousin now presently; +and I will send the doctor to see Jem.” + +The poor fellow allowed himself to be undressed; and let his head fall +on his bolster, as if it could not have kept up a minute longer. He was +fairly down in the fever. + + + CHAPTER V. + +That evening, Mary felt more at leisure and at rest than for weeks past. +There was nothing to be done for Mrs. Billiter but to watch beside her: +and the carpenter had had his whispered orders in the street for the +coffins for the two little boys. The mother had asked no questions, and +had appeared to be wandering too much to take notice of anything passing +before her eyes. Now she was quiet, and Mary felt the relief. She had +refreshed herself (and she used to tell, in after years, what such +refreshments were worth) with cold water, and a clean wrapper, and a +mutton-chop, sent hot from the Plough and Harrow for the Good Lady (with +some wine which she kept for the convalescents), and she was now sitting +back in her chair beside the open window, through which fell a yellow +glow of reflected sunshine from the opposite heights. All was profoundly +still. When she had once satisfied her conscience that she ought not to +be plying her needle because her eyes were strained for want of sleep, +she gave herself up to the enjoyment—for she really was capable of +enjoyment through everything—of watching the opposite precipice; how the +shadow crept up it; and how the sunny crest seemed to grow brighter; and +how the swallows darted past their holes, and skimmed down the hollow +once more before night should come on. Struck, at last, by the silence, +she turned her head, and was astonished at the change she saw. Her +cousin lay quiet, looking as radiant as the sunset itself; her large +black eyes shining, unoppressed by the rich light; her long dark hair on +each side the wasted face, and waving down to the white hands which lay +outside the quilt. Their eyes met, full and clear; and Mary knew that +her cousin’s mind was now clear, like the gaze of her eyes. + +“I see it all now,” said the dying woman, gently. + +“What do you see, love?” + +“I see the reason of everything that I did not understand before.” And +she began to speak of her life and its events, and went on with a force +and clearness, and natural eloquence—yet more, with a simple piety—which +Mary was wont to speak of afterwards as the finest revelation of a noble +soul that she had ever unexpectedly met with. Mrs. Billiter knew that +her little boys were dead; she knew, by some means or other, all the +horrors by which she was surrounded; and she knew that she was about to +die. Yet the conversation was a thoroughly cheerful one. The faces of +both were smiling; the voices of both were lively, though that of the +dying woman was feeble. After summing up the experience of her life, and +declaring what she expected to experience next, and leaving a message +for her mother, she said there was but one thing more; she ‘should like +to receive the sacrament.’ Mary wrote a note in pencil to Mr. Finch, and +sent it by Sally, who had been hovering about ever since the morning, in +the hope of being of further use, but who was glad now to get out of +sight, that her tears might have way; for she felt that she was about to +lose the only friend who had been kind to her (in a way she could +accept) since Simpson had put her off from the promised marriage. + +“She is sorry to part with me,” said that dying friend. “Cousin Mary, +you do not think, as my mother does, that I have done wrong in noticing +Sally, do you?” + +“No; I think you did well. And I think your mother will be kind to her, +for your sake, from this time forward. Sickness and death open our eyes +to many things, you know, cousin.” + +“Ay, they do. I see it all now.” + +Sally was sorely ashamed to bring back Mr. Finch’s message. Well as she +knew that time was precious, she lingered with it at the door. + +Mr. Finch was sorry, but he was too busy. He hoped he should not be sent +for again; for he could not come. + +“Perhaps, Miss,” said Sally, with swimming eyes, “it might have been +better to send somebody else than me. Perhaps, if you sent somebody +else—” + +“I do not think that, Sally. However, if you will remain here, I will go +myself. It does not matter what he thinks of me, a stranger in the +place; and perhaps none of his flock could so well tell him that this is +a duty which he cannot refuse.” + +Mary had not walked up the street for several weeks. Though her good +influence was in almost every house, in the form of cleanliness, fresh +air, cheerfulness, and hope, she had been seen only when passing from +one sick room to another, among a cluster of houses near her aunt’s. She +supposed it might be this disuse which made everything appear strange; +but it was odd scarcely to feel her limbs when she walked, and to see +the houses and people like so many visions. She had no feeling of +illness, however, and she said to herself, that some time or other she +should get a good long sleep; and then everything would look and feel as +it used to do. + +As she passed along the street, the children at play ran in to the +houses to say that the Good Lady was coming; and the healthy and the +convalescent came out on their door-steps, to bid God bless her; and the +sick, who were sensible enough to know what was going on, bade God bless +her from their beds. + +What influence the Good Lady used with the clergyman there is no saying, +as the conversation was never reported by either of them; but she soon +came back bright and cheerful, saying that Mr. Finch would follow in an +hour. She had stepped in at Warrender’s, to beg the father and daughter +to come and communicate with the dying woman. They would come: and Sally +would go, she was sure, and take Ann Warrender’s place at the wash-tub +at home; for there were several sick people in want of fresh linen +before night. Poor Sally went sobbing through the streets. She +understood the Good Lady’s kindness in sending her away, and on a work +of usefulness, because she, alas! could not receive the communion. She +was living in sin; and when two or three were gathered together in the +name of Christ, she must be cast out. + +There was little comfort in the service, unless, as the bystanders +hoped, the sick woman was too feeble and too much absorbed in her own +thoughts to notice some things that dismayed them. Mrs. Billiter was, +indeed, surprised at first at the clergyman’s refusal to enter the +chamber. He would come no further than the door. Mary saw at a glance +that he was in no condition to be reasoned with, and that she must give +what aid she could to get the administration over as decently as +possible. Happily, he made the service extremely short. The little that +there was he read wrong: but Mrs. Billiter (and she alone) was not +disturbed by this. Whether it was that the deadening of the ear had +begun, or that Mr. Finch spoke indistinctly, and was chewing spices all +the time, or that the observance itself was enough for the poor woman, +it seemed all right with her. She lay with her eyes still shining, her +wasted hands clasped, and a smile on her face, quite easy and content; +and when Mr. Finch was gone, she told Mary again that she saw it all +now, and was quite ready. She was dead within an hour. + +As for Warrender, he was more disturbed than any one had seen him since +the breaking out of the fever. + +“Why, there it is before his eyes in the Prayer-book,” said he, “that +clergymen ‘shall diligently from time to time (but especially in the +time of pestilence, or other infectious sickness) exhort their +parishioners to the often receiving of the holy communion:’ and instead +of this, he even shuts up the church on Sundays.” + +“He is not the first who has done that,” said Mary. “It was done in +times of plague, as a matter of precaution.” + +“But, Miss, should not a clergyman go all the more among the people, and +not the less, for their having no comfort of worship?” + +“Certainly: but you see how it is with Mr. Finch, and you and I cannot +alter it. He has taken a panic; and I am sure he is the one most to be +pitied for that. I can tell you too, between ourselves, that Mr. Finch +judges himself, at times, as severely as we can judge him; and is more +unhappy about being of so little use to his people than his worst enemy +could wish him.” + +“Then, Ma’am, why does not he pluck up a little spirit, and do his +duty?” + +“He has been made too soft,” he says, “by a fond mother, who is always +sending him cordials and spices against the fever. We must make some +allowance, and look another way. Let us be thankful that you and Ann are +not afraid. If our poor neighbours have not all that we could wish, they +have clean bedding and clothes, and lime-washed rooms, fresh and sweet +compared with anything they have known before.” + +“And,” thought Warrender, though he did not say it, but only touched his +hat as he went after his business, “one as good as any clergyman to pray +by their bedsides, and speak cheerfully to them of what is to come. When +I go up the stair, I might know who is praying by the cheerfulness of +the voice. I never saw such a spirit in any woman,—never. I have never +once seen her cast down, ever so little. If there is a tear in her eye, +for other people’s sake, there is a smile on her lips, because her heart +tells her that everything that happens is all right.” + +This night, Mary was to have slept. She herself had intended it, warned +by the strange feelings which had come over her as she walked up the +street: and it would gratify Aunty’s feelings that the corpse should not +be left. She intended to lie down and sleep beside the still and +unbreathing form of the cousin whose last hours had been so beautiful in +her eyes. But Aunty’s feelings were now tried in another direction. +Unable to move, Aunty was sorely distressed by Jem’s moanings and +restlessness; and Mary was the only one who could keep him quiet in any +degree. So, without interval, she went to her work of nursing again. +Next, the funeral of Mrs. Billiter, and two or three more, fixed for the +same day, were put off, because Mr. Finch was ill. And when Mr. Finch +was ill, he sent to beg the Good Lady to come immediately and nurse him. +After writing to his own family, to desire some of them to come and take +charge of him, she did go to him: but not to remain day and night as she +did with the poor who had none to help them. She saw that all was made +comfortable about him, gave him his medicines at times, and always spoke +cheerfully. But it was as she saw from the beginning. He was dying of +fear, and of the intemperate methods of precaution which he had adopted, +and of dissatisfaction with himself. His nervous depression from the +outset was such as to predispose him to disease, and to allow him no +chance under it. He was sinking when his mother and sister arrived, pale +and tearful, to nurse him: and it did no good that they isolated the +house, and locked the doors, and took things in by the window, after +being fumigated by a sentinel outside. The doctor laughed as he asked +them whether they would not be more glad to see him, if he came down the +chimney, instead of their having to unlock the door for him. He wondered +they had not a vinegar bath for him to go overhead in, before entering +their presence. The ladies thought this shocking levity; and they did +not conceal their opinion. The doctor then spoke gravely enough of the +effects of fear on the human frame. With its effects on the conscience, +and on the peace of the mind, he said he had nothing to do. That was the +department of the physician of souls. (His hearers were unconscious of +the mournful satire conveyed in these words.) His business was with the +effect of fear on the nerves and brain, exhausting through them the +resources of life. He declared that Mr. Finch would probably have been +well at that moment, if he had gone about as freely as other persons +among the sick, more interested in getting them well than afraid of +being ill himself; and, for confirmation, he pointed to the Good Lady +and the Warrenders, who had now for two months run all sorts of risks, +and showed no sign of fever. They were fatigued, he said; too much so; +as he was himself; and something must be done to relieve Miss Pickard +especially; but— + +“Who is she?” inquired the ladies. “Why is she so prominent here?” + +“As for who she is,” replied he, “I only know that she is an angel.” + +“Come down out of the clouds, I suppose.” + +“Something very like it. She dropped into our hollow one August +evening—nobody knows whence nor why. As for her taking the lead here, I +imagine it is because there was nobody else to do it.” + +“But has she saved many lives, do you think?” + +“Yes, of some that are too young to be aware what they owe her; and of +some yet unborn. She could not do much for those who were down in the +fever before she came: except, indeed, that it is much to give them a +sense of relief and comfort of body (though short of saving life) and +peace of mind, and cheerfulness of heart. But the great consequences of +her presence are to come. When I see the change that is taking place in +the cottages here, and in the clothes of the people, and their care of +their skins, and their notions about their food, I feel disposed to +believe that this is the last plague that will ever be known in +Bleaburn.” + +“Plague! O horrid!” exclaimed the shuddering sister. + +“Call it what you will,” the doctor replied. “The name matters little +when the thing makes itself so clear. Yes, by the way, it may matter +much with such a patient as we have within there. Pray, whatever you do, +don’t use the word ‘plague’ within his hearing. You must cheer him up; +only that you sadly want cheering yourselves. I think an hour a day of +the Good Lady’s smile would be the best prescription for you all.” + +“Do you think she would come? We should be so obliged to her if she +would!” + +“And she should have a change of dress lying ready in the passage-room,” +declared the young lady. “I think she is about my size. Do ask her to +come.” + +“When I see that she is not more wanted elsewhere,” replied the doctor. +“I need not explain, however, that that smile of hers is not an effect +without a cause. If we could find out whether we have anything of the +same cause in ourselves; we might have a cheerfulness of our own, +without troubling her to come and give us some.” + +The ladies thought this odd, and did not quite understand it, and agreed +that they should not like to be merry and unfeeling in a time of +affliction; so they cried a great deal when they were not in the sick +room. They derived some general idea, however, from the doctor’s words, +that cheerfulness was good for the patient; and they kept assuring him, +in tones of forced vivacity, that there was no danger, and that the +doctor said he would be well very soon. The patient groaned, remembering +the daily funerals of the last few weeks; and the only consequence was +that he distrusted the doctor. He sank more rapidly than any other fever +patient in the place. In a newspaper paragraph, and on a monumental +tablet, he was described as a martyr to his sacred office in a season of +pestilence; and his family called on future generations to honour him +accordingly. + +“I am sorry for the poor young man,” observed the host at the Plough and +Harrow; “he did very well while nothing went wrong; but he had no spirit +for trying times.” + +“Who has?” murmured farmer Neale. “Any man’s heart may die within him +that looks into the churchyard now.” + +“There’s a woman’s that does not,” observed the host; “I saw the Good +Lady crossing the churchyard this very morning, with a basket of physic +bottles on her arm—” + +“Ah! she goes to help to make up the medicines every day now,” the +hostess explained, “since the people began to suspect foul play in their +physic.” + +“Well; she came across the bit of grass that is left, and looked over +the rows of graves—not smiling exactly, but as if there was not a sad +thought from top to bottom of her mind—much as she might look if she was +coming away from her own wedding.” + +“What is that about ‘sweet hopes,’ in the newspaper?” asked Neale; +“about some ‘sweet hopes’ that Mr. Finch had? Was he going to be +married?” + +“By that, I should think he was in love,” said the host: “and that may +excuse some backwardness in coming forward, you know.” + +“The Good Lady is to be married, when she gets home to America,” the +hostess declared. “Yes, ’tis true. Widow Johnson told the doctor so.” + +“What _will_ her lover say to her risking her life, and spending her +time in such a way, here?” said Neale. + +“She tells her aunt that he will only wish he was here to help her. He +is a clergyman. ‘O!’ says she, ‘he will only wish he was here to help +us.’” + +“I am sure I wish he was,” sighed Neale. “I wonder what sort of a man +will be sent us next. I hope he will be something unlike poor Mr. +Finch.” + +“I think you will have your wish,” said the landlord. “No man of Mr. +Finch’s sort would be likely to come among us at such a time.” + + + + + THE SON OF SORROW. + + A FABLE FROM THE SWEDISH. + + + All lonely, excluded from Heaven, + Sat SORROW one day on the strand; + And, mournfully buried in thought, + Form’d a figure of clay with her hand. + + JOVE appeared. “What is this?” he demands; + She replied. “’Tis a figure of clay. + Show thy pow’r on the work of my hand; + Give it life, mighty Father, I pray!” + + “Let him live!” said the God. “But observe, + As I _lend_ him, he mine must remain.” + “Not so,” SORROW said, and implor’d, + “Oh! let me my offspring retain! + + “’Tis to me his creation he owes.” + “Yes,” said JOVE, “but’twas I gave him breath.” + As he spoke, EARTH appears on the scene, + And, observing the image, thus saith: + + “From me—from my bosom he’s torn, + I demand, then, what’s taken from me.” + “This strife shall be settled,” said JOVE; + “Let SATURN decide ’tween the three.” + + This sentence the Judge gave. “To all + He belongs, so let no one complain; + The life, JOVE, Thou gav’st him shalt Thou + With his soul, when he dies, take again. + + “Thou, EARTH, shalt receive back his frame, + At peace in thy lap he’ll recline; + But during his whole troubled life, + He shall surely, O SORROW, be thine! + + “His features thy look shall reflect; + Thy sigh shall be mixed with his breath; + And he ne’er shall be parted from thee + Until he reposes in death!” + + MORAL. + + The sentence of Heaven, then is this: + And hence Man lies under the sod; + Though SORROW possesses him, living, + He returns both to EARTH and to GOD. + + + + + THE APPETITE FOR NEWS. + + +The last great work of that great philosopher and friend of the modern +housewife, Monsieur Alexis Soyer, is remarkable for a curious omission. +Although the author—a foreigner—has abundantly proved his extensive +knowledge of the weakness of his adopted nation; yet there is one of our +peculiarities which he has not probed. Had he left out all mention of +cold punch in connexion with turtle; had his receipt for curry contained +no cayenne; had he forgotten to send up tongs with asparagus, or to +order a service of artichokes without napkins, he would have been +thought forgetful; but when—with the unction of a gastronome, and the +thoughtful skill of an artist—he marshals forth all the luxuries of the +British breakfast-table, and forgets to mention its first necessity, he +shows a sort of ignorance. We put it to his already extensive knowledge +of English character, whether he thinks it possible for any English +subject whose means bring him under the screw of the Income-tax, to +break his fast without—a newspaper. + +The city clerk emerging through folding doors from bed to sitting-room, +though thirsting for tea, and hungering for toast, darts upon that +morning’s journal with an eagerness, and unfolds it with a satisfaction, +which show that all his wants are gratified at once. Exactly at the same +hour, his master, the M.P., crosses the hall of his mansion. As he +enters the breakfast-parlour, he fixes his eye on the fender, where he +knows his favourite damp sheet will be hung up to dry.—When the noble +lord first rings his bell, does not his valet know that, however tardy +the still-room-maid may be with the early coffee, he dares not appear +before his lordship without the ‘Morning Post?’ Would the minister of +state presume to commence the day in town till he has opened the +‘Times,’ or in the country till he has perused the ‘Globe?’ Could the +oppressed farmer handle the massive spoon for his first sip out of his +sèvres cup till he has read of ruin in the ‘Herald’ or ‘Standard?’ Might +the juvenile Conservative open his lips to imbibe old English fare or to +utter Young England opinions, till he has glanced over the ‘Chronicle?’ +Can the financial reformer know breakfast-table happiness till he has +digested the ‘Daily News,’ or skimmed the ‘Express?’ And how would it be +possible for mine host to commence the day without keeping his customers +waiting till he has perused the ‘Advertiser’ or the ‘Sun?’ + +In like manner the provinces cannot—once a week at least—satisfy their +digestive organs till their local organ has satisfied their minds. + +Else, what became of the 67,476,768 newspaper stamps which were issued +in 1848 (the latest year of which a return has been made) to the 150 +London and the 238 provincial English journals; of the 7,497,064 stamps +impressed on the corners of the 97 Scottish, and of the 7,028,956 which +adorned the 117 Irish newspapers? A professor of the new science of +literary mensuration has applied his foot-rule to this mass of print, +and publishes the result in ‘Bentley’s Miscellany.’ According to him, +the press sent forth, in daily papers alone, a printed surface amounting +in twelve months to 349,308,000 superficial feet. If to these are added +all the papers printed weekly and fortnightly in London and the +provinces, the whole amounts to 1,446,150,000 square feet of printed +surface, which was, in 1849, placed before the comprehensive vision of +John Bull. The area of a single morning paper,—the Times say—is more +than nineteen and a half square feet, or nearly five feet by four, +compared with an ordinary octavo volume, the quantity of matter daily +issued is equal to three hundred pages. There are four morning papers +whose superficies are nearly as great, without supplements, which they +seldom publish. A fifth is only half the size. We may reckon, therefore, +that the constant craving of Londoners for news is supplied every +morning with as much as would fill about twelve hundred pages of an +ordinary novel; or not less than five volumes. + +These acres of print sown broad-cast, produce a daily crop to suit every +appetite and every taste. It has winged its way from every spot on the +earth’s surface, and at last settled down and arranged itself into +intelligible meaning, made instinct with ink. Now it tells of a +next-door neighbour; then of dwellers in the uttermost corners of the +earth. The black side of this black and white daily history, consists of +battle, murder, and sudden death; of lightning and tempest; of plague, +pestilence, and famine; of sedition, privy conspiracy and rebellion; of +false doctrine, heresy, and schism; of all other crimes, casualties, and +falsities, which we are enjoined to pray to be defended from. The white +side chronicles heroism, charitableness, high purpose, and lofty deeds; +it advocates the truest doctrines, and the practice of the most exalted +virtue: it records the spread of commerce, religion, and science; it +expresses the wisdom of the few sages and shows the ignorance of the +neglected many—in fine, good and evil as broadly defined or as +inextricably mixed in the newspapers as they are over the great globe +itself. + +With this variety of temptation for all tastes, it is no wonder that +those who have the power have also the will to read newspapers. The +former are not very many in this country where, among the great bulk of +the population, reading still remains an accomplishment. It was so in +Addison’s time. ‘There is no humour of my countrymen,’ says the +Spectator, ‘which I am more inclined to wonder at, than their great +thirst for news.’ This was written at the time of imposition of the tax +on newspapers, when the indulgence in the appetite received a check from +increased costliness. From that date (1712) the statistical history of +the public appetite for news is written in the Stamp Office. For half a +century from the days of the Spectator, the number of British and Irish +newspapers was few. In 1782 there were only seventy-nine, but in the +succeeding eight years they increased rapidly. There was ‘great news’ +stirring in the world in that interval,—the American War, the French +Revolution; beside which, the practice had sprung up of giving domestic +occurrences in fuller detail than heretofore, and journals became more +interesting from that cause. In 1790 they had nearly doubled in number, +having reached one hundred and forty-six. This augmentation took place +partly in consequence of the establishment of weekly papers—which +originated in that year—and of which thirty-two had been commenced +before the end of it. In 1809, twenty-nine and a half millions of stamps +were issued to newspapers in Great Britain. The circulation of journals +naturally depends upon the materials existing to fill them. While wars +and rumours of wars were rife they were extensively read, but with the +peace their sale fell off. Hence we find, that in 1821 no more than +twenty-four millions of newspapers were disposed of. Since then the +spread of education—slow as it has been—has increased the productiveness +of journalism. During the succeeding eight-and-twenty years, the +increase may be judged of by reference to the figures we have already +jotted down; the sum of which is, that during the year 1848 there were +issued, for English, Irish and Scotch newspapers eighty-two millions of +stamps,—more than thrice as many as were paid for in 1821. The cause of +this increase was chiefly the reduction of the duty from an average of +threepence to one penny per stamp. + +A curious comparison of the quantity of news devoured by an +Englishman and a Frenchman, was made in 1819, in the _Edinburgh +Review_:—‘thirty-four thousand papers,’ says the writer, are +‘dispatched daily from Paris to the departments, among a population +of about twenty-six millions, making one journal among 776 persons. +By this, the number of newspaper readers in England would be to +those in France as twenty to one. But the number and circulation of +country papers in England are so much greater than in France, that +they raise the proportion of English readers to about twenty-five to +one, and our papers contain about three times as much letter-press +as a French paper. The result of all this is that an Englishman +reads about seventy-five times as much of the newspapers of his +country in a given time, as a Frenchman does of his. But in the +towns of England, most of the papers are distributed by means of +porters, not by post; on the other hand, on account of the number of +coffee-houses, public gardens, and other modes of communication, +less usual in England, it is possible that each French paper may be +read, or listened to, by a greater number of persons, and thus the +English mode of distribution may be compensated. To be quite within +bounds, however, the final result is, that every Englishman reads +daily fifty-times as much as the Frenchman does, of the newspapers +of his country.’ + +From this it might be inferred that the craving for news is peculiarly +English. But the above comparison is chiefly affected by the +restrictions put upon the French press, which, in 1819, were very great. +In this country, the only restrictions were of a fiscal character; for +opinion and news there was, as now, perfect liberty. It is proved, at +the present day, that Frenchmen love news as much as the English; for +now that all restriction is nominally taken off, there are as many +newspapers circulated in France in proportion to its population, as +there are in England. + +The appetite for news is, in truth, universal; but is naturally +disappointed, rather than bounded, by the ability to read. Hence it is +that the circulation of newspapers is proportioned in various countries +to the spread of letters; and if their sale is proportionately less in +this empire, than it is among better taught populations, it is because +there exist among us fewer persons who are able to read them; either at +all, or so imperfectly, that attempts to spell them give the tyro more +pain than pleasure. In America, where a system of national education has +made a nation of readers, (whose taste is perhaps susceptible of vast +improvement, but who are readers still) the sale of newspapers greatly +exceeds that of Great Britain. All over the continent there are also +more newspaper _readers_, in proportion to the number of people, though, +perhaps, fewer buyers, from the facilities afforded by coffee-houses and +reading-rooms, which all frequent. In support of this fact, we need go +no farther than the three kingdoms. Scotland—where national education +has largely given the ability to read—a population of three millions +demands yearly from the Stamp Office seven and a half millions of +stamps; while in Ireland, where national education has had no time for +development, eight millions of people take half a million of stamps +_less_ than Scotland. + +Although it cannot be said that the appetite for mere news is one of an +elevated character; yet as we have before hinted, the dissemination of +news takes place side by side with some of the most sound, practical, +and ennobling sentiments and precepts that issue from any other channels +of the press. As an engine of public liberty, the newspaper press is +more effectual than the Magna Charta, because its powers are wielded +with more ease, and exercised with more promptitude and adaptiveness to +each particular case. + +Mr. F. K. Hunt in his ‘Fourth Estate’ remarks, ‘The moral of the history +of the press seems to be, that when any large proportion of a people +have been taught to read, and when upon this possession of the tools of +knowledge, there has grown up a habit of perusing public prints, the +state is virtually powerless if it attempts to check the press. James +the Second in old times, and Charles the Tenth, and Louis Philippe, more +recently, tried to trample down the Newspapers, and everybody knows how +the attempt resulted. The prevalence or scarcity of Newspapers in a +country affords a sort of index to its social state. Where Journals are +numerous, the people have power, intelligence, and wealth; where +Journals are few, the many are in reality mere slaves. In the United +States every village has its Newspaper, and every city a dozen of these +organs of popular sentiment. In England we know how numerous and how +influential for good the Papers are; whilst in France they have perhaps +still greater power. Turn to Russia, where Newspapers are comparatively +unknown, and we see the people sold with the earth they are compelled to +till. Austria, Italy, Spain, occupy positions between the extremes—the +rule holding good in all, that in proportion to the freedom of the press +is the freedom and prosperity of the people.’ + + + Monthly Supplement of ‘HOUSEHOLD WORDS,’ + + Conducted by CHARLES DICKENS. + + _Price 2d., Stamped 3d._, + + THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE + + OF + + CURRENT EVENTS. + + _The Number, containing a history of the past month, was issued with + the Magazines._ + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) is used to indicate superscript, whether applied to a + single character (as in 2^d) or to an entire expression (as in + 1^{st}). + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78175 *** diff --git a/78175-h/78175-h.htm b/78175-h/78175-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1a590b --- /dev/null +++ b/78175-h/78175-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3672 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Household words, no. 10, June 1, 1850 | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; 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} + div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .double {border-style: double;border-width: 4px; padding: 1em; clear: both; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78175 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='double titlepage'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>“<i>Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS.</i>”—<span class='sc'>Shakespeare.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span> + <h1 class='c002'>HOUSEHOLD WORDS.<br> <span class='xlarge'>A WEEKLY JOURNAL.</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='large'>CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS.</span></div> + <div class='c003'>N<sup>o.</sup> 10.]      SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1850.      [<span class='sc'>Price</span> 2<i>d.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>A POPULAR DELUSION.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>Victimised by a deceptive idea originating +in ‘The Complete Angler,’ and which has +been industriously perpetuated by a numerous +proprietary of punts and houses of public +entertainment and eel pies—the London disciples +of Izaak Walton usually seek for sport +in the upper regions of the Thames. They +resort to Shepperton, or Ditton, or Twickenham, +or Richmond. Chiefly, it would seem, +as a wholesome exercise of the greatest +Christian virtue, patience; for recent experience +proves that anglers who soar above +sticklebats, and are not content with occasional +nibbles from starving gudgeons, or the frequent +entanglements of writhing eels, mostly return +to their homes and families with their baskets +innocent of the vestige of a single scale.</p> + +<p class='c006'>If—as may be safely asserted—the aim, +end, and purpose of all fishing is fish, the +tenacity with which this idea is clung to, +is astonishing; we may indeed say, amazing +when we reflect that there exists—-below +bridge—a particular spot, more convenient, +more accessible, and affording quite as good +accommodation as any of the above-bridge +fishing stations, and which abounds at particular +states of the tide, at particular times +of the day, and at no particular seasons of +the year, but all the year round, in fish of +every sort, size, species, and condition, from +the cod down to the sprat; from a salmon +to a shrimp; from turbots to Thames +flounders. Neither is there a single member +of any one of these enormous families of +fishes that may not be captured with the +smallest possible expenditure of patience. +And although the bait necessary for that +purpose (a white bait manufactured of metal +at an establishment on that bank of the +Thames known as Tower Hill,) is unfortunately +not always procurable by every +class of her Majesty’s subjects; yet it is so +eagerly caught at, that, with a moderate +supply, the least expert may be sure of filling +his fish-basket very respectably.</p> + +<p class='c006'>In order to partake of all the advantages +offered by this famed spot, it is necessary to +rise betimes. The fishing excursion of which +we are now about to give a sketch, commenced +at about four o’clock on a Monday morning. +The rain which fell at the time did not much +matter, on account of the sheltered position of +that margin of the Thames to which we were +bound. With a small basket, and the waistcoat +pocket primed with a little of the proper sort +of bait; with no other rod than a walking stick, +and no fly whatever, (except one upon four +wheels procured from a neighbouring cab +stand,) we arrived at the great fish focus; which, +we may as well mention, to relieve suspense, is +situated on the Middlesex shore of the Thames +at a short distance below London Bridge, close +to the Custom House, opposite the Coal +Exchange, and has been known from time +immemorial as <span class='sc'>Billingsgate</span>.</p> + +<p class='c006'>When we arrived at the collection of sheds +and stalls—like a dilapidated railway station—of +which this celebrated place consists, +it was nearly five o’clock. Its ancient reputation +had prepared us for scenes of confusion +and for volubility of abuse, which have +since the times of the Tritons ever been +associated with those whose special business +is with fish. It was, therefore, with very +great surprise that we walked unmolested +through that portion of the precinct set aside +as the market. We went straight to the +river’s edge, rod in hand, without having +had once occasion to use it as a weapon, and +without hearing one word that might not +have been uttered in the Queen’s drawing-room +on a court day. No crowding, no +elbowing, no screaming, no fighting: no +ungenteel nick-names, no foul-mouthed +females hurling anathemas at their neighbours’ +optics; no rude requests to despatch +ourself suddenly down to the uttermost depth +the human mind is capable of conceiving; no +wish expressed that we might be inflated very +tight indeed; no criticisms on the quality of +our hat; no impertinent questions as to our +present stock of soap; nothing whatever, in +short, calculated to sustain the ancient reputation +of Billingsgate.</p> + +<p class='c006'>With easy deliberation we sauntered down +to the dumb-barge which forms a temporary +landing-place while a better one is being built. +There we beheld a couple of clippers, quite as +trim as any revenue-cutter; over the sides of +which were being handed all sorts of fish; cod, +soles, whitings, plaice, John Dorys, mackerel; +some neatly packed in baskets. That nothing +should be wanting utterly to subvert +established notions of Billingsgate, the order, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>quietness, and system with which these cutters +were emptied, and their cargoes taken to the +stalls, could not be exceeded.</p> + +<p class='c006'>This office is performed by fellowship-porters. +Being responsible individuals, they +prevent fraud. Formerly a set of scamps, +called laggers, ‘conveyed’ the fish; but they +used to drop some of the best sort softly into +the stream, and pick them up at low water. +An idea may be formed of the profits of their +dishonesty, from the fact that laggers offered +seven shillings a day to be employed, instead +of demanding the wages of labour. When a +salesman had one or two hundred turbots +consigned to him, a lagger would give the +hint to an accomplice, who would quickly +substitute several small fish for the same +number of the largest size; a species of fraud +which the salesman had it not in his power to +detect, as the tally was not deficient.</p> + +<p class='c006'>At that time an immense number of bad +fish was condemned every morning by the +superintendent. There was an understanding +between the consignees and salesmen that +when the market was well supplied, any +overplus should be kept back in store boats +at Gravesend, and not brought to market till +the supply was diminished, and the price +raised. This dishonest mode of ‘regulating’ +the market caused a great many stale fish +to be brought to it; hence the quantity +condemned. Now, however, the celerity with +which fish can be conveyed prevents any +such practice, and of late years the superintendent +has only had occasion to condemn in +rare instances.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Every possible expedient and appliance is +now resorted to, to bring fish to market +fresh. As we have a minute or two to +wait on the Billingsgate punt before the +market opens, let us trace the history of a +fish from the sea to the salesman’s stall. +Suppose him to be a turbot hauled with a +hundred other captives early on Monday afternoon +on board one of the Barking fishing fleet +moored on a bank some twenty miles off +Dover. He is no sooner taken on board than +he is trans-shipped immediately with thousands +of his flat companions in a row-boat into +a clipper, which is being fast filled from other +vessels of the fleet. When her cargo is complete, +she sets sail for the mouth of the Thames, +and on entering it is met by a tug steamer, +which tows her up to Billingsgate early on +Tuesday morning, bringing our turbot <i>alive</i>—for +he has been put into a tank in the hold +of the clipper. He is sold as soon as landed, +and finds his way to table in the neighbourhood +of the Mansion House or Belgrave Square +some four-and-twenty hours after he has been +sporting in the sea, not less than a hundred +and fifty miles off.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Enormous accessions in the supply of fish +to the London market have been effected, +first by the employment of clippers as carrier-boats, +(instead of each fishing-boat bringing +its own cargo as formerly,) and secondly, by +the use of steam-tugs for towing the transit-craft +up the river. In the old time a south-westerly +wind deprived all London of fish. +While it prevailed the boats, which usually +took shelter in Holy or East Haven on the +Essex shore, waited for a change of wind, till +the fish became odoriferous. The cargo was +then thrown overboard, and the boats returned +on another fishing voyage.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The Thames was, at that time, the only +highway by which fish was brought to Billingsgate; +but the old losses and delays are +again obviated by another source of acceleration. +Our turbot is brought at waggon +pace compared with the more perishable +mackerel. The Eddystone lighthouse is at least +two hundred and fifty miles from Thames +Street. Between it and the Plymouth Breakwater +lie some hundreds of fishing boats, +plying their trawl-nets. A shoal of mackerel, +the superficies of which may be measured by +the mile, find their way among them, and +several thousands dart into the nets. They +are captured, hauled on board, shovelled into +a clipper, and while she stands briskly in +for shore, busy hands on board are packing +the fish in baskets. Thousands of these baskets +are landed in time for the mail train, +rattle their way per railroad to Paddington, +and by seven o’clock on the following morning—that +is, in sixteen hours after they were +rejoicing in the ‘ocean wave’—are in a London +fishmonger’s taxed-cart on their road to +the gridiron or fish-kettle, as the taste of +the customer dictates.</p> + +<p class='c006'>No distance appears too great from which +to bring fish to Billingsgate. Packed in long +boxes, both by rail and river, between layers +of ice, salmon come daily in enormous quantities +from the remotest rivers of Ireland, of +Scotland, and even from Norway. So considerable +an item is ice in the fishmonger’s +trade, that a large proprietor at Barking has an +ice-well capable of stowing eight hundred tons. +Another in the same line of business has actually +contracted with the Surrey Canal Company +for all the ice generated on their waters!</p> + +<p class='c006'>As we cogitate concerning these ‘great +facts’ on the dumb-barge, and while the baskets +and boxes are being systematically landed, it +strikes five. A bell—the only noisy appurtenance +of Billingsgate—stunningly announces +that the market is open. The landing of +fish proceeds somewhat faster, and fishmongers, +from all parts of London, and from +many parts of the provinces—from Oxford, +Cambridge, Reading, Windsor, &c.—group +themselves round the stalls of such salesmen +as appear to have the choicest fish. These are +rapidly sold by (Dutch) auction; and taken to +the buyers’ carts outside the market.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Nothing can exceed the gentlemanly manner +in which the auction is conducted, except +the mode of doing business at Christie +and Manson’s. Before the commencement, the +salesman, with his flannel apron protecting +his almost fashionable attire from scaly contact, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>is seen—behold him yonder!—seated +behind his stall enjoying a mild Havannah, +with an appearance of sublime indifference to +all around him. Presently, his porter deposits +a ‘lot’ of fish between him, and an eager +group of buyers. He puts down his cigar and +mounts his rostrum.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What shall we say, gentlemen, for this +score of cod? Shall we say seven shillings a +piece?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>No answer.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Six?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Perfect silence. The auctioneer gives pause +for consideration, and takes a whiff at his +Havannah. Time is, however, precious, where +fish is concerned, and he is not long in abating +another shilling.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“A crown?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Done!” exclaims Mr. Jollins of Pimlico.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Five pounds, if you please!” demands the +seller. A note is handed over, and the twenty +cod are hoisted into Mr. Jollins’ cart, which +stands in Thames Street, before a second lot +is quite disposed of.</p> + +<p class='c006'>This mild proceeding is going on all over +the market. On looking to see if the remotest +relic of such a being as a fish-fag is to be +seen, we observe a gentleman who, though +girded with the flannel uniform of the craft, has +so fashionable a surtout, so elegant a neckerchief, +and such a luxuriance of moustache +and whiskers, that we mistake him for an +officer in her Majesty’s Life Guards, selling +fish by way of—what in Billingsgate used to be +called—a ‘jolly lark.’ Enquiry proves, however, +that he is the accredited consignee of +one of the largest fishing fleets which sail out +of the Thames.</p> + +<p class='c006'>We are bound to confess that the high tone +of refinement which had hitherto been so well +supported on the occasion of our visit, became +in a little while, slightly depressed. As the +legislature of the British empire consists of +Crown, Lords, and Commons; so also the executive +of Billingsgate is composed of three +estates: first, of the Lord Mayor (Piscine secretary +of state, Mr. Goldham); secondly, of +an aristocracy, and, thirdly, of a commonalty, +of salesmen. The latter—called in ancient +Billingsgate <i>Bummarees</i>, in modern ditto, +‘Retailers’—are middlemen between the +smaller fishmonger and the high salesman +aristocracy. They purchase the various sorts +of fish, and arrange them in small assorted +parcels to suit the convenience of suburban +fishmongers, or of those peripatetic tradesmen, +to whom was formerly applied the +obsolete term almost of ‘Costermonger.’ +The transactions between these parties were +not conducted under the influence of those strict +rules of etiquette which governed the earlier +dealings of the morning. Indeed, we detected +the proprietor of a very respectable looking +donkey answering a civil enquiry from a +retailer as to what he was ‘looking for’ with</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Not you!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>It is right, however, to add, in justice to +the reputation of a locality which has been so +long and so undeservedly regarded as the +head quarters of verbal vulgarity, that a +friend of the offender asked him solemnly +<i>if he remembered were he wos</i>; and if he warn’t +ashamed of his-self for going and bringing his +Cheek into that ’ere markit?</p> + +<p class='c006'>Connected with the perambulating purveyors, +there is a subject of very great +importance; namely, cheap food for the poor. +Although painful revelations of want of +proper sustenance in every part of this overcrowded +country, are daily breaking forth +to light; although the low dietaries of most +workhouses, and some prisons, are very often +complained of; yet the old Celtic prejudice +against fish still exists in great force among +the humbler orders. Few poor persons will +eat fish when they can get meat; many +prefer gruel, and some slow starvation. Divers +kinds of wholesome and nutritious fish are +now sold at prices not above the means of the +poorest persons; yet, so small is the demand, +that the itinerant vendor—through whom +what little that is sold reaches the humble +consumer—makes it a matter of perfect indifference +when he starts from home whether his +venture for the day shall be fish or vegetables. +His first visit is to Billingsgate; but if he find +things, as regards price or kind, not to his +taste, he adjourns to speculate in Covent +Garden. He has, therefore, no regular market +for what might most beneficially become a +staple article. During the fruit season, little or +no fish reaches the humbler classes; because +then their purveyors find dealings with the +‘Garden’ more profitable than dealings at the +‘Gate.’</p> + +<p class='c006'>Not long since a large quantity of wholesome +fish of various sorts was left upon the +hands of the market superintendent. By +the advice of the Lord Mayor, it was forwarded +for consumption to Giltspur Street +Compter. The prisoners actually refused to +eat it, and accompanied their refusal with a +jocose allusion to the want of a proper accompaniment +of sauce.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Among the stronger instances of the popular +aversion to this kind of food, we may mention +that in 1812, one of the members of the +Committee for the Relief of the Manufacturing +Poor, agreed with some fishermen +to take from ten to twenty thousand mackerel +a day, at a penny a piece; a price at which +the fishermen said they could afford to +supply the London market, to any extent, +were they sure of a regular sale. On the +15th June, 1812, upwards of seventeen thousand +mackerel, delivered at the stipulated +price, were sent to Spitalfields, and sold to the +working weavers at the original cost of a +penny a piece. Though purchased with great +avidity by the inhabitants of that district, it +soon appeared that Spitalfields alone would +not be equal to the consumption of the vast +quantities of mackerel which daily poured +into the market; they were, therefore, sent +<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>for distribution at the same rate, in other parts +of the town; workhouses and other public +establishments were also served, and the +supply increased to such a degree, that five +hundred thousand mackerel arrived and were +sold in one day.</p> + +<p class='c006'>This cheap and benevolent supply was +eagerly absorbed while the distress lasted; +but as soon as trade revived, the demand fell +off and finally ceased altogether.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Is this aversion to fish unconquerable? If +it be not, what an enormous augmentation of +wholesome food might be procured to relieve +the increasing wants of the humble and needy. +All the time the above experiment was tried, +only a small portion of the coast was available +for the supply of the densest inland populations +of this island. Now, there is scarcely a +creek or an estuary from which fish cannot +be rapidly transported, however great the +distance.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Compared with the boundless means of +supply, and the lightning-like powers of +transit, the price of fish is at present inordinately +dear. But this is solely the fault of +the public. The demand is too inconsiderable +to call forth any great and, therefore, economical +system. The voyager, per steam, between +the Thames and Scotland, or between London +and Cork, cannot fail to wonder when he sees, +as he surely will see on a warm, calm day, +<i>scores of square miles</i> of haddocks, mackerel, +pilchards, herrings, &c.; when he has left on +shore thousands of human beings pining for +food. These enormous shoals approach the +land, too, on purpose to be caught. In the +History of British Fishes, Mr. Yarrell says, +‘The law of Nature which obliges mackerel +and many others to visit the shallower water +of the shores at a particular season, appears +to be one of those wise and beautiful provisions +of the Creator by which not only is +the species perpetuated with the greatest +certainty, but a large portion of the parent +animals are thus brought within the reach of +man, who, but for the action of this law, +would be deprived of many of those species +most valuable to him as food. For the +mackerel dispersed over the immense surface +of the deep, no effective fishery could be +carried on; but approaching the shore as +they do from all directions, and roving along +the coast collected in immense shoals, millions +are caught, which yet form but a very small +portion compared with the myriads that +escape.’ The fecundity of some of the species +is marvellous. It has been ascertained +by actual experiment, that the roe of the +cod fish contains from six to nine millions of +eggs.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Nor are river fish less abundant. Mr. +Yarrell says, that two persons once calculated +from actual observation, that from sixteen to +eighteen hundred of the delicate ingredients +for Twickenham pies passed a given point on +the Thames in one minute of time; an average +of more than one hundred thousand per hour. +And this <i>eel-fare</i>, as it is called, is going on +incessantly for more than two months. The +king of fish is equally prolific, and quite as +easily captured. The choicest salmon that +appear in Billingsgate are from the river +Bann, near Coleraine. We found it eighteen pence +per pound; yet it is recorded that fourteen +hundred and fifty salmon were taken in +that river at one drag of a single net!</p> + +<p class='c006'>The appetite for fish is, it would seem, an +acquired taste; but it would be of enormous +advantage if any means could be devised for +encouraging the consumption of this description +of food. In order to commence the experiment +we would suggest the regular introduction +of fish into workhouse and prison +dietaries. Formerly, such a measure was not +practicable during the whole of the year, but, +with a trifling outlay, such a system of supply +might be organised as would ensure freshness +and constancy.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The proprietor of the handsome donkey, +who led us into this statistical reverie, informed +us—and he was corroborated by his +friend—that the only certainty was the red-herring +and periwinkle trade; but then the +competition was so werry great. “<i>I</i> don’t know +how it is,” he observed, “but people’ll buy +salt things with all the wirtue dried out on +’em, but——”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“That’s because they has a relish,” interrupted +the Mentor.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But fresh fish,” renewed the other gentleman, +with a glance of displeasure at being +interrupted; “fresh fish—all alive, as we +cries ’em—fresh fish, mind you!—they can’t +abear!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>We also learnt from these gentlemen that +the professors of the Hebrew faith were the +only constant fish-eaters.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And wy?” continued the councillor, “cos +when they eats fish, they thinks they’re a +fasting!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>This reminding us that we were actually +fasting, we complimented our friend on his +donkey (which he assured us was a ‘Moke’ of +the reg’lar Tantivy breed), and having completed +the filling of our basket, were about to +return home to breakfast, with an excellent +appetite, and a high respect for the manners +of modern fishmongers, when he hailed us +easily with, “Halloa, you Sir!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>We went back.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I tell you wot,” he said, jerking his thumb +over his shoulder, in the direction of the +Market Tavern,—“but p’raps you have +though.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Have what?” said we.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Dined at Simpson’s, the Fish Hord’n’ry,” +said he.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Never,” said we.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Do it!” said he. “You go and have a +tuck-out at Simpson’s at four o’clock in the +arternoon (wen me and my old ooman is a +going to take our tea, with a winkle or wot +not) and you’ll come out as bright as a star, +and as sleek as this here Moke.”</p> + +<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>We thanked him for his hint towards the +improvement of our personal appearance, +which was a little dilapidated at that hour of +the morning, and were so much impressed by +the possibility of rivalling the Moke, that we +returned at four o’clock in the afternoon, and +climbed up to the first floor of Mr. Simpson’s +house.</p> + +<p class='c006'>A glance at the clock assured us that Mr. +Simpson was a genius. He kept it back ten +minutes, to give stragglers a last chance. +Already, the long table down the whole length +of the long low room was nearly full, and +people were sitting at a side table, looking +out through windows, like stern-windows +aboard ship, at flapping sails, and rigging. +The host was in the chair, with a wooden +hammer ready to his hand; and five several +gentlemen, much excited by hunger and +haste, who had run us down on the stairs, +had leaped into seats, and were menacing expected +turbots with their knives.</p> + +<p class='c006'>We slipped into a vacant chair by a gentleman +from the Eastern Counties, who immediately +informed us that Sir Robert Peel was +all wrong, and the agricultural interest blown +to shivers. This gentleman had little pieces +of sticking-plaster stuck all over him, and we +thought his discontent had broken out in an +eruption, until he informed us that he had +been ‘going it, all last week’ with some +ruined friends of his who were also in town, +and that ‘champagne and claret always had +that effect upon him.’</p> + +<p class='c006'>On our left hand, was an undertaker from +Whitechapel. “Here’s a bill,” says he; +“this General Interment! What’s to become +of my old hands who haven’t been what +you may call rightly sober these twenty +years? Ain’t there <i>any</i> religious feeling in +the country?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>The company had come, like the fish, from +various distances. There was a respectable +Jew provision-merchant from Hamburg, over +the way. Next him, an old man with sunken +jaws that were always in motion, like a +gutta percha mouth that was being continually +squeezed. He had come from York. Hard +by, a very large smooth-faced old gentleman +in an immense ribbed satin waistcoat, out of +Devonshire, attended by a pink nephew who +was walking the London Hospitals. Lower +down, was a wooden leg that had brought the +person it belonged to, all the way from +Canada. Two ‘parties,’ as the waiter called +them, who had been with a tasting-order to +the Docks, and were a little scared about the +eyes, belonged to Doncaster. Pints of stout +and porter were handed round, agreeably to +their respective orders. Everybody took his +own pint pot to himself, and seemed suspicious +of his neighbour. As the minute hand of +the clock approached a quarter past four, +the gentleman from the Eastern Counties +whispered us, that if the country held +out for another year, it was as much as he +expected.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Suddenly a fine salmon sparkled and twinkled +like a silver harlequin before Mr. Simpson. +A goodly dish of soles was set on lower +down; then, in quick succession, appeared +flounders, fried eels, stewed eels, cod fish, +melted butter, lobster-sauce, potatoes. Savoury +steams curled and curled about the +company’s heads, and toyed with the company’s +noses. Mr. Simpson hammered on the +table. Grace!</p> + +<p class='c006'>For one silent moment, Mr. Simpson gazed +upon the salmon as if he were the salmon’s +admiring father, and then fell upon him, and +helped twenty people without winking. Five +or six flushed waiters hurried to and fro, and +played cymbals with the plates; the company +rattled an accompaniment of knives and forks; +the fish were no more, in a twinkling. Boiled +beef, mutton, and a huge dish of steaks, were +soon disposed of in like manner. Small +glasses of brandy round, were gone, ere one +could say it lightened. Cheese melted away. +Crusts dissolved into air. Mr. Simpson was +gay. He knew the worst the company could +do. He saw it done, twice every day. Again +he hammered on the table. Grace!</p> + +<p class='c006'>Then, the cloth, the plates, the salt-cellars, +the knives and forks, the glasses and pewter-pots, +being all that the guests had not eaten +or drunk, were cleared; bunches of pipes +were laid upon the table; and everybody +ordered what he liked to drink, or went his +way. Mr. Simpson’s punch, in wicked tumblers +of immense dimensions, was the most in favour. +Mr. Simpson himself consorted with a company +of generous spirits—connected with a +Brewery, perhaps—and smoked a mild cigar. +The large gentleman out of Devonshire: so +large now, that he was obliged to move his +chair back, to give his satin waistcoat play: +ordered a small pint bottle of port, passed it +to the pink nephew, and disparaged punch. +The nephew dutifully concurred, but looked +at the undertaker’s glass, out of the corner of +his eye, as if he could have reconciled himself +to punch, too, under pressure, on a desart +island. The ‘parties’ from the Docks took +rum-and-water, and wandered in their conversation. +He of the Eastern Counties took +cold gin-and-water for a change, and for the purification +of his blood. Deep in the oiled depths +of the old-fashioned table, a reflection of every +man’s face appeared below him, beaming. +Many pipes were lighted, the windows were +opened at top, and a fragrant cloud enwrapped +the company, as if they were all being carried +upward together. The undertaker laughed +monstrously at a joke, and the agriculturist +thought the country might go on, say ten years, +with good luck.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Eighteen pence a-head had done it all—the +drink, and smoke, and civil attendance excepted—and +again this was Billingsgate! +Verily, there is ‘an ancient and fish-like +smell’ about our popular opinions sometimes; +and our hereditary exaltations and depressions +of some things would bear revision!</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span> + <h2 class='c004'>GREENWICH WEATHER-WISDOM.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>In England everybody notices the weather, +and talks about the weather, and suffers by +the weather, yet very few of us <i>know</i> anything +about it. The changes of our climate +have given us a constant and an insatiable +national disease—consumption; the density +of our winter fog has gained an European +celebrity; whilst the general haziness of the +atmosphere induces an Italian or an American +to doubt whether we are ever indulged with a +real blue sky. ‘Good day’ has become the +national salutation; umbrellas, water-proof +clothes and cough mixtures are almost +necessities of English life; yet, despite these +daily and hourly proofs of the importance +of the weather to each and all of us, it is +only within the last ten years that any +effectual steps have been taken in England +to watch the weather and the proximate +elements which regulate its course and +variations.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Yet, in those ten years positive wonders +have been done, and good hope established +that a continuance of patient enquiry will +be rewarded by still further discoveries. To +take a single result it may be mentioned, +that a careful study of the thermometer +has shown that a descent of the temperature +of London from forty-five to thirty-two +degrees, generally kills about 300 persons. +They may not all die in the very week when +the loss of warmth takes place, but the +number of deaths is found to increase to +that extent over the previous average within +a short period after the change. The fall +of temperature, in truth, kills them as certainly +as a well aimed cannon-shot. Our changing +climate or deficient food and shelter has +weathered them for the final stroke, but they +actually die at last of the weather.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Before 1838 several European states less +apt than ourselves to talk about the weather, +had taken it up as a study, and had made +various contributions to the general knowledge +of the subject; but in that year England +began to act. The officials who now and then +emerge from the Admiralty under the title of +the ‘Board of Visitors,’ to see what is in +progress at the Greenwich Observatory, were +reminded by Mr. Airy, the astronomer royal, +that much good might be done by pursuing a +course of magnetic and meteorological observations. +The officials ‘listened and believed.’</p> + +<p class='c006'>The following year saw a wooden fence +pushed out behind the Observatory walls in the +direction of Blackheath, and soon afterwards +a few low-roofed, unpainted, wooden buildings +were dotted over the enclosure. These structures +are small enough and humble enough to +outward view, yet they contain some most +beautifully constructed instruments, and have +been the scene of a series of observations and +discoveries of the greatest interest and value. +The stray holiday visitor to Greenwich Park, +who feels tempted to look over the wooden +paling sees only a series of deal sheds, upon a +rough grass-plat; a mast some 80 feet high, +steadied by ropes, and having a lanthorn at +the top, and a windlass below; and if he looks +closer he perceives a small inner enclosure surrounded +by a dwarf fence, an upright stand +with a moveable top sheltering a collection of +thermometers, and here and there a pile of +planks and unused partitioning that helps to +give the place an appearance of temporary +expediency—an aspect something between +a collection of emigrant’s cottages and the +yard of a dealer in second-hand building +materials. But,—as was said when speaking of +the Astronomical Observatory,—Greenwich is +a practical place, and not one prepared for show. +Science, like virtue, does not require a palace +for a dwelling-place. In this collection of +deal houses during the last ten years Nature +has been constantly watched, and interrogated +with the zeal and patience which alone can +glean a knowledge of her secrets. And the +results of those watches, kept at all hours, +and in all weathers, are curious in the extreme: +but before we ask what they are, let +us cross the barrier, and see with what tools +the weather-students work.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The main building is built in the form +of a cross, with its chief front to the magnetic +north. It is formed of wood; all iron +and other metals being carefully excluded; +for its purpose is to contain three large +magnets, which have to be isolated from +all influence likely to interfere with their +truthful action. In three arms of the cross +these magnets are suspended by bands of unwrought, +untwisted silk. In the fourth arm +is a sort of double window filled with apparatus +for receiving the electricity collected at +the top of the mast which stands close by. +Thus in this wooden shed we find one portion +devoted to electricity—to the detection and +registry of the stray lightning of the atmosphere—and +the other three to a set of instruments +that feel the influence and register +the variations of the magnetic changes in the +condition of the air. ‘True as the needle to +the pole,’ is the burden of an old song, which +now shows how little our forefathers knew +about this same needle, which, in truth, has +a much steadier character than it deserves. +Let all who still have faith in the legend go to +the magnet-house, and when they have seen +the vagaries there displayed, they will have +but a poor idea of Mr. Charles Dibdin’s sea-heroes +whose constancy is declared to have been +as true as their compasses were to the north.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Upon entering the magnet-house, the first +object that attracts attention are the jars to +which the electricity is brought down. The +fluid is collected, as just stated, by a conductor +running from the top of the mast outside. In +order that not the slightest portion may be +lost in its progress down, a lamp is kept constantly +burning near the top of the pole, the +light of which keeps warm and dry a body of +glass that cuts off all communication between +<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>the conductor and the machinery which supports +it. Another light for the purpose of +collecting the electricity by its flame, is placed +above the top of the pole. This light, burning +at night, has given rise to many a strange supposition +in the neighbourhood. It is too high +up to be serviceable as a lanthorn to those +below. Besides, who walks in Greenwich Park +after the gates are closed? It can light only +the birds or the deer. ‘Then, surely,’ says +another popular legend, ‘it is to guide the +ships on the river, when on their way up at +night;—a sort of land-mark to tell whereabouts +the Observatory is when the moon +and stars are clouded, and refuse to show +where their watchers are.’</p> + +<p class='c006'>All these speculations are idle, for the lights +burn when the sun is shining, as well as at +night; and the object of the lower one is that +no trace of moisture, and no approach of cold, +shall give the electricity a chance of slipping +down the mast, or the ropes, to the earth, but +shall leave it no way of escape from the wise +men below, who want it, and will have it, +whether it likes or no, in their jars, that they +may measure its quantity and its quality, and +write both down in their journals. It is thus +that electricity comes down the wires into +those jars on our right as we enter. If very +slight, its presence there is indicated by tiny +morsels of pendent gold-leaf; if stronger, the +divergence of two straws show it; if stronger +still, the third jar holds its greater force, whilst +neighbouring instruments measure the length +of the electric sparks, or mark the amount of +the electric force. At the desk, close by, sits +the observer, who jots down the successive +indications. In his book he registers from +day to day, throughout the year, how much +electricity has been in the air, and what was +its character, even to such particulars as to +whether its sparks were blue, violet, or purple +in colour. At times, however, he has to exercise +great care, and it is not always that he +even then escapes receiving severe shocks.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Passing on, we approach the magnets. They +are three in number; of large size, and differently +suspended, to show the various ways +in which such bodies are acted upon. All +hang by bands of unwrought silk. If the silk +were twisted, it would twist the magnets, +and the accuracy of their position would be +disturbed. Magnets, like telescopes, must be +true in their adjustment to the hundredth +part of a hair’s breadth. One magnet hangs +north and south; another east and west; and +a third, like a scale-beam, is balanced on +knife-edges and agate planes, so beautifully, +that when once adjusted and enclosed in its +case, it is opened only once a year, lest one +grain of dust, or one small spider, should +destroy its truth; for spiders are as troublesome +to the weather-student as to the astronomer. +These insects like the perfect quiet +that reigns about the instruments of the philosopher, +and with heroic perseverance persist +in spinning their fine threads amongst his +machines. Indeed, spiders occasionally betray +the magnetic observer into very odd behaviour. +At times he may be seen bowing in the sunshine, +like a Persian fire-worshipper; now +stooping in this direction, now dodging in that, +but always gazing through the sun’s rays up +towards that luminary. He seems demented, +staring at nothing. At last he lifts his hand; +he snatches apparently at vacancy to pull +nothing down. In truth his eye had at last +caught the gleam of light reflected from an +almost invisible spider line running from the +electrical wire to the neighbouring planks. +The spider who had ventured on the charged +wire paid the penalty of such daring with his +life long ago, but he had left his web behind +him, and that beautifully minute thread has +been carrying off to the earth a portion of the +electric fluid, before it had been received, and +tested, and registered, by the mechanism +below. Such facts show the exceeding delicacy +of the observations.</p> + +<p class='c006'>For seven years, the magnets suspended in +this building were constantly watched every +two hours—every even hour—day and night, +except on Sundays, the object being that some +light might be thrown upon the laws regulating +the movements of the mariner’s compass; +hence, that whilst men became wiser, +navigation might be rendered safer. The +chief observer—the <i>genius loci</i>—is Mr. +Glaisher, whose name figures in the reports +of the Registrar-General. He, with +two assistants, from year to year, went on +making these tedious examinations of the variations +of the magnets, by means of small telescopes, +fixed with great precision upon pedestals +of masonry or wood fixed on the earth, and +unconnected with the floor of the building, +occupying a position exactly between the +three magnets. This mode of proceeding had +continued for some years with almost unerring +regularity, and certain large quarto volumes +full of figures were the results, when an ingenious +medical man, Mr. Brooke, hit upon a +photographic plan for removing the necessity +for this perpetual watchfulness. Now, in the +magnet-house, we see light and chemistry doing +the tasks before performed by human labour; +and doing them more faithfully than even the +most vigilant of human eyes and hands. Around +the magnets are cases of zinc, so perfect that +they exclude all light from without. Inside +those cases, in one place, is a lamp giving a +single ray of prepared light which, falling +upon a mirror soldered to the magnet, moves +with its motions. This wandering ray, +directed towards a sheet of sensitive photographic +paper, records the magnet’s slightest +motion! The paper moves on by clockwork, +and once in four-and-twenty hours an +assistant, having closed the shutters of the +building, lights a lanthorn of <i>yellow glass</i>, +opens the magnet-boxes, removes the paper +on which the magnets have been enabled to +record their own motions, and then, having +put in a fresh sheet of sensitive paper, he shuts +<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>it securely in, winds up the clockwork, puts +out his yellow light and lets in the sunshine. +His lanthorn glass is yellow, because the +yellow rays are the only ones which can be +safely allowed to fall upon the photographic +paper during its removal from the instrument, +to the dish in which its magnetic picture is to +be <i>fixed</i> by a further chemical process. It is +the blue ray of the light that gives the daguerrotypic +likeness;—as most persons who +have had their heads off, under the hands of +M. Claudet, or Mr. Beard, or any of their +numerous competitors in the art of preparing +sun-pictures, well know.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Since the apparatus of Mr. Brooke for the +self-registration of the magnetic changes has +been in operation at Greenwich, the time of +Mr. Glaisher and his assistants has been +more at liberty for other branches of their +duties. These are numerous enough. Thermometers +and barometers have to be watched +as well as magnets. To these instruments +the same ingenious photographic contrivance +is applied.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The wooden building next to the magnet-house +on the south-west contains a modification +of Mr. Brooke’s ingenious plan, by +which the rise and fall of the temperature of +the air is self-registered. Outside the building +are the bulbs of thermometers freely exposed +to the weather. Their shafts run through +a zinc case, and as the mercury rises or falls, +it moves a float having a projecting arm. +Across this arm is thrown the ray of prepared +light which falls then upon the sensitive paper. +Thus we see the variations of the needle and +the variations in heat and cold both recording +their own story, within these humble-looking +wooden sheds, as completely as the +wind and the rain are made to do the same +thing, on the top of the towers of the Observatory. +The reward given to the inventor +of this ingenious mode of self-registration has +been recently revealed in a parliamentary +paper, thus:—‘To Mr. Charles Brooke for +his invention and establishment at the Royal +Observatory, of the apparatus for the self-registration +of magnetical and meteorological +phenomena, 500<i>l.</i>’ Every year the invention +will save fully 500<i>l.</i> worth of human toil; +and the reward seems small when we see +every year millions voted for warlike, sinecure, +and other worse than useless purposes.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Photography, however, cannot do all the +work. Its records have to be checked by +independent observations every day, and then +both have to be brought to their practical value +by comparison with certain tables which test +their accuracy, and make them available for +disclosing certain scientific results. The preparation +of such tables is one of the practical +triumphs of Greenwich. Many a quiet +country gentleman amuses his leisure by +noting day by day the variations of his +thermometer and barometer. Heretofore +such observations were isolated and of no +general value, but now by the tables completed +by Mr. Glaisher, and published by +the Royal Society, they may all be converted +into scientific values, and be made available +for the increase of our weather-wisdom. For +nearly seventy years the Royal Society had +observations made at Somerset House, but +they were a dead letter—mere long columns +of figures—till these tables gave them significance. +And the same tables now knit +into one scientific whole, the observations +taken by forty scientific volunteers, who, +from day to day, record for the Registrar-General +of births and deaths, the temperature, +moisture, &c., of their different localities, +which vary from Glasgow to Guernsey, and +from Cornwall to Norwich.</p> + +<p class='c006'>What the Rosetta stone is to the history of +the Pharaohs, these Greenwich tables have +been to the weather-hieroglyphics. They +have afforded something like a key to the +language in which the secrets are written; +and it remains for industrious observation +and scientific zeal to complete the modern +victory over ancient ignorance. Already, the +results of the Greenwich studies of the weather +have given us a number of curious morsels +of knowledge. The wholesale destruction of +human life induced by a fall in the temperature +of London has just been noticed. Besides +the manifestation of that fact, we are shown, +that instead of a warm summer being followed +by a cold winter, the tendency of the +law of the weather is to group warm seasons +together, and cold seasons together. Mr. +Glaisher has made out, that the character +of the weather seems to follow certain curves, +so to speak, each extending over periods of +fifteen years. During the first half of each of +these periods, the seasons become warmer and +warmer, till they reach their warmest point, +and then they sink again, becoming colder +and colder, till they reach the lowest point, +whence they rise again. His tables range +over the last seventy-nine years—from 1771 +to 1849. Periods shown to be the coldest, +were years memorable for high-priced food, +increased mortality, popular discontent, and +political changes. In his diagrams, the warm +years are tinted brown, and the cold years +grey, and as the sheets are turned over and +the dates scanned, the fact suggests itself that +a grey period saw Lord George Gordon’s +riots; a grey period was marked by the +Reform Bill excitement; and a grey period +saw the Corn Laws repealed.</p> + +<p class='c006'>A few more morsels culled from the experience +of these weather-seers, and we have +done.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Those seasons have been best which have +enjoyed an average temperature—nor too hot +nor too cold.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The indications are that the climate of +England is becoming warmer, and, consequently, +healthier; a fact to be partly accounted +for by the improved drainage and +the removal of an excess of timber from the +land.</p> + +<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>The intensity of cholera was found greatest +in those places where the air was stagnant; +and, therefore, any means for causing its +motion, as lighting fires and improving ventilation, +are thus proved to be of the utmost +consequence.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Some day near the 20th of January—the +lucky guess in 1838 of Murphy’s Weather +Almanac—will, upon the average of years, be +found to be the coldest of the whole year.</p> + +<p class='c006'>In the middle of May there are generally +some days of cold, so severe as to be unexplainable. +Humboldt mentions this fact in +his Cosmos; and various authors have tried +to account for it,—at present in vain. The +favourite notion, perhaps, is that which attributes +this period of cold to the loosening of +the icebergs of the North. Another weather +eccentricity is the usual advent of some warm +days at the beginning of November.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Certain experiments in progress to test the +difference between the temperature of the +Thames and of the surrounding atmosphere +are expected to show the cause of the famous +London fog. During the night the Thames is +often from ten to seventeen degrees warmer, +and in the day time from eight to ten degrees +colder than the air above it.</p> + +<p class='c006'>If the theory of weather-cycles holds good, +we are to have seasons colder than the average +from this time till 1853, when warmth will +begin again to predominate over cold. A +chilly prophecy this to close with, and therefore, +rather let an anecdote complete this +chapter on the Weather-Watchers of Greenwich.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Amongst other experiments going on some +time ago in the Observatory enclosure, were +some by which Mr. Glaisher sought to discover +how much warmth the Earth lost +during the hours of night, and how much +moisture the Air would take up in a day from +a given surface. Upon the long grass within +the dwarf fence already mentioned were placed +all sorts of odd substances in little distinct +quantities. Ashes, wood, leather, linen, cotton, +glass, lead, copper, and stone, amongst other +things, were there to show how each affected +the question of radiation. Close by upon a +post was a dish six inches across, in which +every day there was punctually poured one +ounce of water, and at the same hour next +day, as punctually was this fluid re-measured +to see what had been lost by evaporation. +For three years this latter experiment +had been going on, and the results +were posted up in a book; but the figures +gave most contradictory results. There was +either something very irregular in the air, +or something very wrong in the apparatus. +It was watched for leakage, but none was +found, when one day Mr. Glaisher stepped +out of the magnet-house, and looking towards +the stand, the mystery was revealed. The +evaporating dish of the philosopher was being +used as a bath by an irreverent bird!—a +sparrow was scattering from his wings the +water left to be drunk by the winds of Heaven. +Only one thing remained to be done; and the +next minute saw a pen run through the tables +that had taken three years to compile. The +labour was lost—the work had to be begun +again.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>MY WONDERFUL ADVENTURES IN SKITZLAND.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c007'>CHAPTER THE FIRST.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>The Beginning is a Bore—I fall into Misfortune.</p> + +<p class='c006'>I am fond of Gardening. I like to dig. If +among the operations of the garden any +need for such a work can be at any time +discovered or invented, I like to dig a +hole. On the 3d of March, 1849, I began +a hole behind the kitchen wall, where-into +it was originally intended to transplant +a plum-tree. The exercise was so much +to my taste, that a strange humour impelled +me to dig on. A fascination held me to the +task. I neglected my business. I disappeared +from the earth’s surface. A boy who worked +a basket by means of a rope and pulley, aided +me; so aided, I confined my whole attention +to spade labour. The centripetal force seemed +to have made me its especial victim. I dug +on until Autumn. In the beginning of +November I observed that, upon percussion, +the sound given by the floor of my pit was +resonant. I did not intermit my labour, urged +as I was by a mysterious instinct downwards. +On applying my ear, I occasionally heard a +subdued sort of rattle, which caused me to +form a theory that the centre of the earth +might be composed of mucus. In November, +the ground broke beneath me into a hollow +and I fell a considerable distance. I alighted +on the box-seat of a four-horse coach, which +happened to be running at that time immediately +underneath. The coachman took +no notice whatever of my sudden arrival by +his side. He was so completely muffled up, +that I could observe only the skilful way in +which he manipulated reins and whip. The +horses were yellow. I had seen no more than +this, when the guard’s horn blew, and presently +we pulled up at an inn. A waiter +came out, and appeared to collect four bags +from the passengers inside the coach. He +then came round to me.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Dine here, Sir?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, certainly,” said I. I like to dine—not +the sole point of resemblance between myself +and the great Johnson.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Trouble you for your stomach, Sir.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>While the waiter was looking up with a +polite stare into my puzzled face, my neighbour, +the coachman, put one hand within his +outer coat, as if to feel for money in his +waistcoat pocket. Directly afterwards his +fingers came again to light, and pulled forth +an enormous sack. Notwithstanding that it +was abnormally enlarged, I knew by observation +of its form and texture that this was a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>stomach, with the œsophagus attached. This, +then, the waiter caught as it was thrown +down to him, and hung it carelessly over his +arm, together with the four smaller bags +(which I now knew to be also stomachs) +collected from the passengers within the +coach. I started up, and as I happened to +look round, observed a skeleton face upon the +shoulders of a gentleman who sat immediately +behind my back. My own features were +noticed at the same time by the guard, who +now came forward, touching his hat.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Beg your pardon, Sir, but you’ve been +and done it.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Done what?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why, Sir, you should have booked your +place, and not come up in this clandestine +way. However, you’ve been and done it!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“My good man, what have I done?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why, sir, the Baron Terroro’s eyes had +the box-seat, and I strongly suspect you’ve +been and sat upon them.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>I looked involuntarily to see whether I had +been sitting upon anything except the simple +cushion. Truly enough, there was an eye, +which I had crushed and flattened.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Only one,” I said.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Worse for you, and better for him. The +other eye had time to escape, and it will know +you again, that’s certain. Well, it’s no business +of mine. Of course you’ve no appetite +now for dinner? Better pay your fare, Sir. +To the Green Hippopotamus and Spectacles, +where we put up, it’s ten-and-six.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Is there room inside?” I enquired. It +was advisable to shrink from observation.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, Sir. The inside passengers are +mostly skeleton. There’s room for three, +Sir. Inside, one-pound-one.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>I paid the money, and became an inside +passenger.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER THE SECOND.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>Of Divisions which occur in Skitzland—I am taken up.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Professor Essig’s Lectures on Anatomy +had so fortified me, that I did not shrink from +entering the Skitzton coach. It contained +living limbs, loose or attached to skeletons in +other respects bare, except that they were +clothed with broadcloth garments, cut after +the English fashion. One passenger only had +a complete face of flesh, he had also one living +hand; the other hand I guessed was bony, +because it was concealed in a glove obviously +padded. By observing the fit of his clothes, +I came to a conclusion that this gentleman +was stuffed throughout; that all his limbs, +except the head and hand, were artificial. +Two pairs of Legs, in woollen stockings, and +a pair of Ears, were in a corner of the coach, +and in another corner there were nineteen or +twenty Scalps.</p> + +<p class='c006'>I thought it well to look astonished at +nothing, and, having pointed in a careless +manner to the scalps, asked what might be +their destination? The person with the Face +and Hand replied to me; and although evidently +himself a gentleman, he addressed me +with a tone of unconcealed respect.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“They are going to Skitzton, Sir, to the +hair-dresser’s.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, to be sure,” I said. “They are to +make Natural Skin Wigs. I might have +known.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I beg your pardon, Sir. There is a ball +to-morrow night at Culmsey. But the gentry +do not like to employ village barbers, and +therefore many of the better class of people +send their hair to Skitzton, and receive it +back by the return coach properly cut and +curled.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Oh,” said I. “Ah! Oh, indeed!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Dinners, gentlemen!” said a voice at the +window, and the waiter handed in four +stomachs, now tolerably well filled. Each +passenger received his property, and pulling +open his chest with as much composure as if +he were unbuttoning his waistcoat, restored +his stomach, with a dinner in it, to the right +position. Then the reckonings were paid, +and the coach started.</p> + +<p class='c006'>I thought of my garden, and much wished +that somebody could throw Professor Essig +down the hole that I had dug. A few things +were to be met with in Skitzland which would +rather puzzle him. They puzzled me; but I +took refuge in silence, and so fortified, protected +my ignorance from an exposure.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“You are going to Court, Sir, I presume?” +said my Face and Hand friend, after a short +pause. His was the only mouth in the coach, +excepting mine, so that he was the only +passenger able to enter into conversation.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“My dear Sir,” I replied, “let me be frank +with you. I have arrived here unexpectedly +out of another world. Of the manners and +customs, nay, of the very nature of the people +who inhabit this country, I know nothing. +For any information you can give me, I shall +be very grateful.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>My friend smiled incredulity, and said,</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Whatever you are pleased to profess, I +will believe. What you are pleased to feign a +wish for, I am proud to furnish. In Skitzland, +the inhabitants, until they come of age, retain +that illustrious appearance which you have +been so fortunate as never to have lost. +During the night of his twenty-first birthday, +each Skitzlander loses the limbs which +up to that period have received from him no +care, no education. Of those neglected parts +the skeletons alone remain, but all those +organs which he has employed sufficiently +continue unimpaired. I, for example, devoted +to the study of the law, forgot all occupation +but to think, to use my senses and to write. +I rarely used my legs, and therefore Nature +has deprived me of them.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But,” I observed, “it seems that in Skitzland +you are able to take yourselves to +pieces.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“No one has that power, Sir, more largely +than yourself. What organs we have we +can detach on any service. When dispersed, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>a simple force of Nature directs all corresponding +members whither to fly that they may +re-assemble.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“If they can fly,” I asked, “why are they +sent in coaches? There were a pair of eyes +on the box-seat.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Simply for safety against accidents. Eyes +flying alone are likely to be seized by birds, +and incur many dangers. They are sent, +therefore, usually under protection, like any +other valuable parcel.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Do many accidents occur?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Very few. For mutual protection, and +also because a single member is often all that +has been left existing of a fellow Skitzlander +our laws, as you, Sir, know much better than +myself, estimate the destruction of any part +absent on duty from its skeleton as a crime +equivalent to murder——”</p> + +<p class='c006'>After this I held my tongue. Presently +my friend again enquired whether I was +going up to Court?</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why should I go to Court?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Oh, Sir, it pleases you to be facetious. +You must be aware that any Skitzlander who +has been left by Nature in possession of every +limb, sits in the Assembly of the Perfect, or +the Upper House, and receives many state +emoluments and dignities.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Are there many members of that Upper +Assembly?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Sir, there were forty-two. But if you are +now travelling to claim your seat, the number +will be raised to forty-three.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“The Baron Terroro—” I hinted.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“My brother, Sir. His eyes are on the +box-seat under my care. Undoubtedly he is +a Member of the Upper House.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>I was now anxious to get out of the coach +as soon as possible. My wish was fulfilled +after the next pause. One Eye, followed by +six Pairs of Arms, with strong hard Hands +belonging to them, flew in at the window. I +was collared; the door was opened, and all +hands were at work to drag me out and away. +The twelve Hands whisked me through the +air, while the one Eye sailed before us, like +an old bird, leader of the flight.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER THE THIRD.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>My Imprisonment and Trial for Murder.</p> + +<p class='c006'>What sort of sky have they in Skitzland? +Our earth overarches them, and, as the sunlight +filters through, it causes a subdued +illumination with very pure rays. Skitzland +is situated nearly in the centre of our globe, +it hangs there like a shrunken kernel in the +middle of a nutshell. The height from Skitzland +to the over-arching canopy is great; so +great, that if I had not fallen personally from +above the firmament, I should have considered +it to be a blue sky similar to ours. At night +it is quite dark; but during the day there is +an appearance in the Heaven of white spots; +their glistening reminded me of stars. I +noticed them as I was being conveyed to +prison by the strong arms of justice, for +it was by a detachment of members from +the Skitzton Police that I was now hurried +along. The air was very warm, and corroborated +the common observation of an increase +of heat as you get into the pith of our planet. +The theory of Central Fire, however, is, you +perceive quite overturned by my experience.</p> + +<p class='c006'>We alighted near the outskirts of a large +and busy town. Through its streets I was +dragged publicly, much stared at, and much +staring. The street life was one busy nightmare +of disjointed limbs. Professor Essig, +could he have been dragged through Skitzton, +would have delivered his farewell lecture +upon his return. ‘Gentlemen, Fuit Ilium—Fuit +Ischium—Fuit Sacrum—Anatomy has +lost her seat among the sciences. My occupation’s +gone.’ Professor Owen’s Book ‘On +the Nature of Limbs,’ must contain, in the +next edition, an Appendix ‘Upon Limbs +in Skitzland.’ I was dragged through the +streets, and all that I saw there, in the +present age of little faith, I dare not tell you. +I was dragged through the streets to prison +and there duly chained, after having been +subjected to the scrutiny of about fifty couples +of eyes drawn up in a line within the prison +door. I was chained in a dark cell, a cell so +dark that I could very faintly perceive the +figure of some being who was my companion. +Whether this individual had ears wherewith +to hear, and mouth wherewith to answer me, +I could not see, but at a venture I addressed +him. My thirst for information was unconquerable; +I began, therefore, immediately with +a question:</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Friend, what are those stars which we see +shining in the sky at mid-day?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>An awful groan being an unsatisfactory +reply, I asked again.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Man, do not mock at misery. You will +yourself be one of them.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>‘The Teachers shall shine like Stars in the +Firmament.’ I have a propensity for teaching, +but was puzzled to discover how I could give +so practical an illustration of the text of +Fichte.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Believe me,” I said, “I am strangely +ignorant. Explain yourself.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>He answered with a hollow voice:</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Murderers are shot up out of mortars +into the sky, and stick there. Those white, +glistening specks, they are their skeletons.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Justice is prompt in Skitzland. I was tried +incredibly fast by a jury of twelve men who +had absolutely heads. The judges had nothing +but brain, mouth and ear. Three powerful +tongues defended me, but as they were not +suffered to talk nonsense, they had little to +say. The whole case was too clear to be +talked into cloudiness. Baron Terroro, in +person, deposed, that he had sent his eyes to +see a friend at Culmsey, and that they were +returning on the Skitzton coach, when I, +illegally, came with my whole bulk upon the +box-seat, which he occupied. That one of his +eyes was, in that manner, totally destroyed, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>but that the other eye, having escaped, identified +me, and brought to his brain intelligence +of the calamity which had befallen. He +deposed further, that having received this +information, he despatched his uncrushed eye +with arms from the police-office, and accompanied +with several members of the detective +force, to capture the offender, and to procure +the full proofs of my crime. A sub-inspector +of Skitzton Police then deposed that he sent +three of his faculties, with his mouth, eye, +and ear, to meet the coach. That the driver, +consisting only of a stomach and hands, had +been unable to observe what passed. That +the guard, on the contrary, had taxed me +with my deed, that he had seen me rise from +my seat upon the murdered eye, and that he +had heard me make confession of my guilt. +The guard was brought next into court, and +told his tale. Then I was called upon for my +defence. If a man wearing a cloth coat and +trousers, and talking excellent English, were +to plead at the Old Bailey that he had broken +into some citizen’s premises accidentally by +falling from the moon, his tale would be +received in London as mine was in Skitzton. +I was severely reprimanded for my levity, +and ordered to be silent. The Judge summed +up and the Jury found me Guilty. The +Judge, who had put on the black cap before +the verdict was pronounced, held out no hope +of mercy, and straightway sentenced me to +Death, according to the laws and usage of the +Realm.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER THE FOURTH.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>The last Hours of the Condemned in Skitzland—I am +executed.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The period which intervenes between the +sentence and execution of a criminal in Skitzland, +is not longer than three hours. In order +to increase the terror of death by contrast, +the condemned man is suffered to taste at the +table of life from which he is banished, the +most luscious viands. All the attainable enjoyment +that his wit can ask for, he is allowed +to have, during the three hours before he is +shot, like rubbish, off the fields of Skitzland.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Under guard, of course, I was now to be +led whithersoever I desired.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Several churches were open. They never +are all shut in Skitzton. I was taken into +one. A man with heart and life was preaching. +People with hearts were in some pews; +people with brains, in others; people with +ears only, in some. In a neighbouring church, +there was a popular preacher, a skeleton with +life. His congregation was a crowd of ears, +and nothing more.</p> + +<p class='c006'>There was a day-performance at the Opera. +I went to that. Fine lungs and mouths possessed +the stage, and afterwards there was a +great bewilderment with legs. I was surprised +to notice that many of the most beautiful +ladies were carried in and out, and lifted +about like dolls. My guides sneered at my +pretence of ignorance, when I asked why this +was. But they were bound to please me in +all practicable ways, so they informed me, +although somewhat pettishly. It seems that +in Skitzland, ladies who possess and have cultivated +only their good looks, lose at the age +of twenty-one, all other endowments. So +they become literally dolls, but dolls of a +superior kind; for they can not only open and +shut their eyes, but also sigh; wag slowly with +their heads, and some times take a pocket-handkerchief +out of a bag, and drop it. But +as their limbs are powerless, they have to be +lifted and dragged about after the fashion +that excited my astonishment.</p> + +<p class='c006'>I said then, “Let me see the Poor.” They +took me to a workhouse. The men, there, +were all yellow; and they wore a dress which +looked as though it were composed of asphalte; +it had also a smell like that of pitch. +I asked for explanation of these things.</p> + +<p class='c006'>A Superintendent of Police remarked that +I was losing opportunities of real enjoyment +for the idle purpose of persisting in my +fable of having dropped down from the sky. +However, I compelled him to explain to me +what was the reason of these things. The +information I obtained, was briefly this:—that +Nature, in Skitzland, never removes the +stomach. Every man has to feed himself; +and the necessity for finding food, joined to the +necessity for buying clothes, is a mainspring +whereby the whole clockwork of civilised life +is kept in motion. Now, if a man positively +cannot feed and clothe himself, he becomes +a pauper. He then goes to the workhouse, +where he has his stomach filled with a +cement. That stopping lasts a life-time, +and he thereafter needs no food. His body, +however, becomes yellow by the superfluity +of bile. The yellow-boy, which is the Skitzland +epithet for pauper, is at the same time +provided with a suit of clothes. The clothes +are of a material so tough that they can be +worn unrepaired for more than eighty years. +The pauper is now freed from care, but were +he in this state cast loose upon society, since +he has not that stimulus to labour which excites +industry in other men, he would become +an element of danger in the state. Nature no +longer compelling him to work, the law compels +him. The remainder of his life is forfeit +to the uses of his country. He labours at +the workhouse, costing nothing more than +the expense of lodging, after the first inconsiderable +outlay for cement wherewith +to plug his stomach, and for the one suit of +apparel.</p> + +<p class='c006'>When we came out of the workhouse, all +the bells in the town were tolling. The +Superintendent told me that I had sadly +frittered away time, for I had now no more +than half-an-hour to live. Upon that I leaned +my back against a post, and asked him to +prepare me for my part in the impending +ceremony by giving me a little information +on the subject of executions.</p> + +<p class='c006'>I found that it was usual for a man to be +executed with great ceremony upon the spot +<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>whereon his crime had been committed. That +in case of rebellions or tumults in the provinces, +when large numbers were not unfrequently +condemned to death, the sentence of +the law was carried out in the chief towns of +the disturbed districts. That large numbers +of people were thus sometimes discharged +from a single market-place, and that the repeated +strokes appeared to shake, or crack, +or pierce in some degree that portion of the +sky towards which the artillery had been +directed. I here at once saw that I had discovered +the true cause of earthquakes and +volcanoes; and this shows how great light +may be thrown upon theories concerning the +hidden constitution of this earth, by going +more deeply into the matter of it than had +been done by any one before I dug my hole. +Our volcanoes, it is now proved, are situated +over the market-places of various provincial +towns in Skitzland. When a revolution happens, +the rebels are shot up,—discharged from +mortars by means of an explosive material +evidently far more powerful than our gunpowder +or gun-cotton; and they are pulverised +by the friction in grinding their way +through the earth. How simple and easy +truth appears, when we have once arrived +at it.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The sound of muffled drums approached us, +and a long procession turned the corner of a +street. I was placed in the middle of it,—Baron +Terroro by my side. All then began +to float so rapidly away, that I was nearly +left alone, when forty arms came back and +collared me. It was considered to be a proof +of my refractory disposition, that I would +make no use of my innate power of flight. +I was therefore dragged in this procession +swiftly through the air, drums playing, fifes +lamenting.</p> + +<p class='c006'>We alighted on the spot where I had fallen, +and the hole through which I had come I saw +above me. It was very small, but the light +from above shining more vividly through it +made it look, with its rough edges, like a +crumpled moon. A quantity of some explosive +liquid was poured into a large mortar, +which had been erected (under the eye of +Baron Terroro) exactly where my misfortune +happened. I was then thrust in, the Baron +ramming me down, and pounding with a long +stock or pestle upon my head in a noticeably +vicious manner. The Baron then cried +“Fire!” and as I shot out, in the midst of a +blaze, I saw him looking upward.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER THE FIFTH.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>My revenge on the Skitzlanders.</p> + +<p class='c006'>By great good fortune, they had planted +their artillery so well, that I was fired up +through my hole again, and alighted in my +own garden, just a little singed. My first +thought was to run to an adjoining bed of +vegetable marrows. Thirty vegetable marrows +and two pumpkins I rained down to +astonish the Skitzlanders, and I fervently hope +that one of them may have knocked out the +remaining eye of my vindictive enemy, the +Baron. I then went into the pantry, and +obtained a basket full of eggs, and having +rained these down upon the Skitzlanders, I +left them.</p> + +<p class='c006'>It was after breakfast when I went down +to Skitzland, and I came back while the +dinner bell was ringing.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>BIRTH SONG.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Hail, new-waked atom of the Eternal whole,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Young voyager upon Time’s mighty river!</div> + <div class='line in10'>Hail to thee, Human Soul,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Hail, and for ever!</div> + <div class='line in10'>Pilgrim of life, all hail!</div> + <div class='line in2'>He who at first called forth</div> + <div class='line in2'>From nothingness the earth,</div> + <div class='line'>Who clothed the hills in strength, and dug the sea;</div> + <div class='line in2'>Who gave the stars to gem</div> + <div class='line in2'>Night, like a diadem,</div> + <div class='line in10'>Thou little child, made thee;</div> + <div class='line in2'>Young habitant of earth,</div> + <div class='line'>Fair as its flowers, though brought in sorrow forth,</div> + <div class='line in10'>Thou art akin to God who fashioned thee!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The Heavens themselves shall vanish as a scroll,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The solid earth dissolve, the stars grow pale,</div> + <div class='line in10'>But thou, oh Human Soul,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Shalt be immortal! Hail!</div> + <div class='line in10'>Thou young Immortal, hail!</div> + <div class='line in2'>He, before whom are dim</div> + <div class='line in2'>Seraph and cherubim,</div> + <div class='line'>Who gave the archangels strength and majesty,</div> + <div class='line in10'>Who sits upon Heaven’s throne,</div> + <div class='line in10'>The Everlasting One,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Thou little child, made thee!</div> + <div class='line in2'>Fair habitant of Earth,</div> + <div class='line'>Immortal in thy God, though mortal by thy birth,</div> + <div class='line in10'>Born for life’s trials, hail, all hail to thee!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 class='c009'>SONG OF DEATH.</h3> + +<div class='lg-container-b c011'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in14'>Shrink not, O Human Spirit,</div> + <div class='line'>The Everlasting Arm is strong to save!</div> + <div class='line in2'>Look up, look up, frail nature, put thy trust</div> + <div class='line in2'>In Him who went down mourning to the dust,</div> + <div class='line in8'>And overcame the grave!</div> + <div class='line in8'>Quickly goes down the sun;</div> + <div class='line in8'>Life’s work is almost done;</div> + <div class='line'>Fruitless endeavour, hope deferred, and strife!</div> + <div class='line in8'>One little struggle more,</div> + <div class='line in8'>One pang, and then is o’er</div> + <div class='line'>All the long, mournful, weariness of life.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Kind friends, ’tis almost past;</div> + <div class='line in8'>Come now and look your last!</div> + <div class='line in8'>Sweet children, gather near,</div> + <div class='line in8'>And his last blessing hear,</div> + <div class='line'>See how he loved you who departeth now!</div> + <div class='line'>And, with thy trembling step and pallid brow,</div> + <div class='line in8'>O, most beloved one,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Whose breast he leaned upon,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Come, faithful unto death,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Receive his parting breath!</div> + <div class='line'>The fluttering spirit panteth to be free,</div> + <div class='line'>Hold him not back who speeds to victory!</div> + <div class='line'>—The bonds are riven, the struggling soul is free!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in8'>Hail, hail, enfranchised Spirit!</div> + <div class='line'>Thou that the wine-press of the field hast trod!</div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>On, blest Immortal, on, through boundless space,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And stand with thy Redeemer face to face;</div> + <div class='line in8'>And stand before thy God!</div> + <div class='line in8'>Life’s weary work is o’er,</div> + <div class='line in8'>Thou art of earth no more;</div> + <div class='line'>No more art trammelled by the oppressive clay,</div> + <div class='line in8'>But tread’st with winged ease</div> + <div class='line in8'>The high acclivities</div> + <div class='line'>Of truths sublime, up Heaven’s crystalline way.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Here no bootless quest;</div> + <div class='line in8'>This city’s name is Rest;</div> + <div class='line in8'>Here shall no fear appal;</div> + <div class='line in8'>Here love is all in all;</div> + <div class='line'>Here shalt thou win thy ardent soul’s desire;</div> + <div class='line'>Here clothe thee in thy beautiful attire.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Lift, lift thy wond’ring eyes!</div> + <div class='line in8'>Yonder is Paradise,</div> + <div class='line in8'>And this fair shining band</div> + <div class='line in8'>Are spirits of thy land!</div> + <div class='line'>And these who throng to meet thee are thy kin,</div> + <div class='line'>Who have awaited thee, redeemed from sin!</div> + <div class='line'>—The city’s gates unfold—enter, oh! enter in!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c007'>IN THREE PARTS.—CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>Mr. Finch was standing in front of his +bookcase, deeply occupied in ascertaining a +point in ecclesiastical history, when he was +told that Ann Warrender wished to speak +to him.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“O dear!” he half-breathed out. He had +for some time been growing nervous about the +state of things at Bleaburn; and there was +nothing he now liked so little as to be obliged +to speak face to face with any of the people. +It was not all cowardice; though cowardice +made up sadly too much of it. He did not +very well know how to address the minds of +his people; and he felt that he could not do it +well. He was more fit for closet study than +for the duties of a parish priest; and he +ought never to have been sent to Bleaburn. +Here he was, however; and there was Ann +Warrender waiting in the passage to speak +to him.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Dear me!” said he, “I am really very busy +at this moment. Ask Ann Warrender if she +can come again to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>To-morrow would not do. Ann followed +the servant to the door of the study to say so. +Mr. Finch hastily asked her to wait a moment, +and shut the door behind the servant. He +unlocked a cupboard, took out a green bottle +and a wineglass, and fortified himself against +infection with a draught of something whose +scent betrayed him to Ann the moment the +door was again opened.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Come in,” said he, when the cupboard was +locked.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Will you please come, sir, and see John +Billiter? He is not far from death; he +asked for you just now; so I said I would +step for you.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Billiter! The fever has been very fatal in +that house, has it not? Did not he lose two +children last week?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, sir; and my father thinks the other +two are beginning to sicken. I’m sure I don’t +know what will become of them. I saw Mrs. +Billiter stagger as she crossed the room just +now; and she does not seem, somehow, to be +altogether like herself this morning. That +looks as if she were beginning. But if you +will come and pray with them, Sir, that is the +comfort they say they want.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Does your father allow you to go to an +infected house like that?” asked Mr. Finch. +“And does he go himself?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Ann looked surprised, and said she did not +see what else could be done. There was no +one but her father who could lift John Billiter, +or turn him in his bed; and as for her, she +was the only one that Mrs. Billiter had to +look to, day and night. The Good Lady went +in very often, and did all she could; but she +was wanted in so many places, besides having +her hands full with the Johnsons, that she +could only come in and direct and cheer them, +every few hours. She desired to be sent for +at any time, night or day; and they did send +when they were particularly distressed, or at +a loss; but for regular watching and nursing, +Ann said the Billiters had no one to depend +on but herself. She could not stay talking +now, however. How soon might she say that +Mr. Finch would come?</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mr. Finch was now walking up and down +the room. He said he would consider, and +let her know as soon as he could.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“John Billiter is as bad as can be, Sir. He +must be very near his end.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Ah! well; you shall hear from me very +soon.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>As Ann went away, she wondered what +could be the impediment to Mr. Finch’s going +with her. He, meantime, roused his mind to +undertake a great argument of duty. It was +with a sense of complacency, even of elevation, +that he now set himself to work to consider +of his duty—determined to do it when +his mind was made up.</p> + +<p class='c006'>He afterwards declared that he went to +his chamber to be secure against interruption, +and there walked up and down for two hours +in meditation and prayer. He considered +that it had pleased God that he should be +the only son of his mother, whose whole life +would be desolate if he should die. He +thought of Ellen Price, feeling almost sure +that she would marry him whenever he felt +justified in asking her; and he considered +what a life of happiness she would lose if he +should die. He remembered that his praying +with the sick would not affect life on the one +side, while it might on the other. The longer +he thought of Ellen Price and of his mother, +and of all that he might do if he lived, the +more clear did his duty seem to himself to +become. At the end of the two hours, he was +obliged to bring his meditations to a conclusion; +for Ann Warrender’s father had been +waiting for some time to speak to him, and +would then wait no longer.</p> + +<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>“It is not time lost, Warrender,” said Mr. +Finch, when at last he came down stairs. “I +have been determining my principle, and my +mind is made up.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Then, Sir, let us be off, or the man will be +dead. What! you cannot come, Sir! Why, +bless my soul!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“You see my reasons, surely, Warrender.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why, yes; such as they are. The thing +that I can’t see the reason for, is your being a +clergyman.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>While Mr. Finch was giving forth his +amiable and gentlemanly notions of the position +of a clergyman in society, and of filial +consideration, Warrender was twirling his +hat, and fidgetting, as if in haste; and his +summing up was——</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I don’t know what your mother herself +might say, Sir, to your consideration for her; +but most likely she has, being a mother, +noticed that saying about a man leaving +father and mother, and houses and lands, for +Christ’s sake; and also——But it is no business +of mine to be preaching to the clergyman, +and I have enough to do, elsewhere.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“One thing more, Warrender. I entrust it +to you to let the people know that there will +be no service in church during the infection. +Why, do not you know that, in the time of the +plague, the churches were closed by order, +because it was found that the people gave one +another the disease, by meeting there?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>John had never heard it; and he was sorry +to hear it now. He hastened away to the +Good Lady, to ask her if he must really tell +the afflicted people that all religious comfort +mast be withheld from them now, when they +were in the utmost need of it. Meantime, +Mr. Finch was entering at length in his diary, +the history of his conflict of mind, his decision, +and the reasons of it.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Henceforth, Mr. Finch had less time for +his diary, and for clearing up points of ecclesiastical +history. There were so many funerals +that he could never be sure of leisure; nor, +when he had it, was he in a state to use it. +Sometimes he almost doubted whether he +was in his right mind, so overwhelmingly +dreadful to him was the scene around him. +He met Farmer Neale one day. Neale was +at his wit’s end what to do about his harvest. +Several of his labourers were dead, and others +were kept aloof by his own servants, who +declared they would all leave him if any person +from Bleaburn was brought among them; +and no labourers from a distance would come +near the place. Farmer Neale saw no other +prospect than of his crops rotting on the +ground.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“You must offer high wages,” said Mr. +Finch. “You must be well aware that you +do not generally tempt people into your service +by your rate of wages. You must open +your hand at such a time as this.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Neale was ready enough now to give good +wages; but nobody would reap an acre of +his for love or money. He was told to be +thankful that the fever had spared his house; +but he said it was no use bidding a man be +thankful for anything, while he saw his crops +perishing on the ground.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Next, Mr. Finch saw, in his afternoon ride, +a waggon-load of coffins arrive at the brow +from O——. He saw them sent down, one by +one, on men’s shoulders, to be ranged in the +carpenter’s yard. The carpenter could not +work fast enough; and his stock of wood was +so nearly exhausted that there had been complaints, +within the last few days, that the +coffins would not bear the least shock, but +fell to pieces when the grave was opened for +the next. So an order was sent to O—— for +coffins of various sizes; and now they were +carried down the road, and up the street, +before the eyes of some who were to inhabit +one or another of them. The doctor, hurrying +from house to house, had hardly a moment to +spare, and no comfort to give. He did not +see what there was to prevent the whole +population from being swept away. He was +himself almost worn out; and just at such a +moment, his surgery boy had disappeared. +He had no one that he could depend on to +help him in making up the medicines, or even +to deliver them. The fact was, he said in +private, the place was a pest-house; and, +except to Miss Pickard, he did not know +where to look for any aid or any hope whatever. +It would not do to say so to the people; +but, frankly speaking, this was what he felt. +When the pastor’s heart was thus sunk very +low, he thought he would just pass the Plough +and Harrow, and see who was there. If +there were any cheerful people in Bleaburn, +that was where they would be found. At the +Plough and Harrow, the floor was swept and +the table was clean; and the chimney was +prettily dressed with green boughs; but +there were only two customers there; and +they were smoking their pipes in silence. +The landlord said the scores were run up so +high, he could not give more credit till better +days. The people wanted their draught of +comfort badly enough, and he had given it as +long as he could; but he must stop somewhere: +and if the baker had to stop scores +(as he knew he had) the publican had little +chance of getting his own. At such a time, +however, he knew men ought to be liberal; +so he went on serving purl and bitters at five +in the morning. The men said it strengthened +their stomachs against the fever before they +went to work (such of them as could work) +and God forbid he should refuse them that! +But he knew the half of those few that came +at five in the morning would never be able to +pay their score. Yet did the publican, amidst +all these losses, invite the pastor to sit down +and have a cheerful glass; and the pastor +did not refuse. There was too little cheerfulness +to be had at present to justify him +in declining any offer of it. So he let the +landlord mix his glass for him, and mix it +strong.</p> + +<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>It was easy to make the mixture strong; +but not so easy to have a ‘cheerful glass.’ +The host had too many dismal stories to tell for +that; and, when he could be diverted from the +theme of the fate of Bleaburn, it was only to +talk of the old king’s madness, and the disasters +of the war, and the weight of the taxes, and the +high price of food, and the riots in the manufacturing +districts; a long string of disasters +all undeniably true. He was just saying that +he had been assured that something would +soon appear which would explain the terrors +of the time, when a strange cry was heard in +the street, and a bustle among the neighbours; +and then two or three people ran in +and exclaimed, with white lips, that there +was a fearful sign in the sky.</p> + +<p class='c006'>There indeed it was, a lustrous thing, +shining down into the hollow. Was there +ever such a star seen,—as large as a saucer—some +of the people said, and with a long white +tail, which looked as if it was about to sweep +all the common stars out of the sky! The +sounds of amazement and fear that ran along +the whole street, up and down, brought the +neighbours to their doors; and some to the +windows, to try how much they could see +from windows that would not open. Each +one asked somebody else what it was; but all +agreed that it was a token of judgment, and +that it accounted for everything; the cold +spring, the bad crops, the king’s illness, the +war, and this dreadful sickly autumn. At +last, they bethought them of the pastor, and +they crowded round him for an explanation. +They received one in a tone so faltering as to +confirm their fears, though Mr. Finch declared +that it certainly must be a comet: he +had never seen a comet; but he was confident +this must be one, and that it must be very +near the earth:—he did not mean near enough +to do any harm;—it was all nonsense talking +of comets doing any harm.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Will it do us any good, Sir?” asked the +carpenter, sagely.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Not that I know of. How should it do +us any good?</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Exactly so, Sir: that is what we say. It +is there for no good, you may rely upon it: +and, for the rest, Heaven knows!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I hope farmer Neale may be seeing it,” observed +a man to his neighbour. “It may be +a mercy to him, if it is sent to warn him of +his hard ways.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And the doctor, too. I hope it will take +effect upon him,” whispered another. The +whisper was caught up and spread. “The +doctor! the doctor!” every one said, glancing +at the comet, and falling to whispering again.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What are they saying about the doctor?” +whispered Mr. Finch to the landlord. “What +is the matter about him?” But the landlord +only shook his head, and looked excessively +solemn in the yellow light which streamed +from his open door. After this, Mr. Finch +was very silent, and soon stole away homewards. +Some who watched him said that he +was more alarmed than he chose to show. +And this was true. He was more shaken +than he chose to admit to his own mind. He +would not have acknowledged to himself that +he, an educated man, could be afraid of a comet: +but, unnerved before by anxiety of mind, and +a stronger dose of spirit and water than he had +intended to take, he was as open to impression +as in the most timid days of his childhood. +As he sat in his study, the bright, +silent, steady luminary seemed to be still +shining full upon his very heart and brain: +and the shadowy street, with its groups of +gazers, was before his eyes; and the hoarse +or whimpering voices of the terrified people +were in his ear. He covered his eyes, and +thought that he lived in fearful times. He +wished he was asleep: but then, there were three +funerals for to-morrow! He feared he could +not sleep, if he went to bed. Yet, to sit up +would be worse; for he could not study to-night, +and sitting up was the most wearing +thing of all to the nerves. Presently he went +to his cupboard. Now, if ever, was the time +for a cordial; for how should he do his duty, +if he did not get sleep at night, with so many +funerals in the morning? So he poured out +his medicine, as he called it, and uncorked +his laudanum bottle, and obtained the oblivion +which is the best comfort of the incapable.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'><span class='c012'>PART II.</span><br> CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>There were some people in Bleaburn to +whom the sign in heaven looked very differently. +On the night when the people assembled +in the street to question each other about +it, Mary was at the Billiters’ house, where, but +for her, all would have been blank despair. +Mrs. Billiter lay muttering all night in the +low delirium of the fever; and Mary could +not do more for her than go to the side of her +mattress now and then, to speak to her, and +smooth her pillow, or put a cool hand on her +forehead, while one of the dying children +hung on the other shoulder. At last, the +little fellow was evidently so near death that +the slightest movement on her part might put +out the little life. As he lay with his head +on her shoulder, his bony arms hanging helpless, +and his feet like those of a skeleton +across her lap, she felt every painful breath +through her whole frame. She happened to +sit opposite the window; and the window, +which commanded a part of the brow of the +hollow, happened to be open. Wherever the +Good Lady had been, the windows would +open now; and, when closed, they were so +clear that the sunshine and moonlight could +pour in cheerfully. This September night +was sultry and dry; and three fever patients +in two little low rooms needed whatever fresh +air could be had. There sat Mary, immoveable, +with her eyes fixed on the brow from +which she had seen more than one star come +up, since she last left her seat. She now and +then spoke cheerfully to the poor mutterer +<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>in the other room, to prevent her feeling +lonely, or for the chance of bringing back her +thoughts to real things: and then she had to +soothe little Ned, lying on a bed of shavings +in the corner, sore and fretful, and needing +the help that she could not stir to give. His +feeble cry would have upset any spirits but +Mary’s; but her spirits were never known to +be upset, though few women have gone +through such ghastly scenes, or sustained +such tension of anxiety.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I cannot come to you at this moment, Ned,” +said she, “but I will soon,—very soon. Do +you know why your brother is not crying? +He is going to sleep,—for a long quiet sleep. +Perhaps he will go to sleep more comfortably +if you can stop crying. Do you think you can +stop crying, Ned?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>The wailing was at once a little less miserable, +and by degrees it came to a stop as Mary +spoke.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Do you know, your little brother will be +quite well, when he wakes from that long +sleep. It will be far away from here,—where +daddy is.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Let me go, too.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I think you will go, Ned. If you do, you +will not live here any more. You will live +where daddy is gone.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Will Dan Cobb tease me then? Dan does +tease us so!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mary had to learn who Dan Cobb was,—a +little boy next door, who was not in the fever +as yet. He was always wanting Ned’s top. +Would he want Ned’s top in that place where +they were all going to be well?</p> + +<p class='c006'>“No,” said Mary; “and you will not want +it, either. When we go to that place, we have +no trouble of carrying anything with us. We +shall find whatever we want there.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What shall I play at?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I don’t know till we go and see; but I am +sure it will be with something better than your +top. But, Ned, are you angry with Dan? Do +you wish that he should have the fever? And +are you glad or sorry that he has no top?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>By this time the crying had stopped; and +Ned, no longer filling his ears with his own +wailing, wondered and asked what that odd +sound was,—he did not like it.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“It will soon be over,” said Mary, very +gently. “It is your brother just going to +sleep. Now, lie and think what you would +say to Dan, if you were going a long way off, +and what you would like to be done with your +top, when you do not want it yourself. You +shall tell me what you wish when I come to +you presently.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Whether Ned was capable of thinking she +could not judge, but he lay quite silent for the +remaining minutes of his little brother’s life;—a +great comfort to Mary, who could not have +replied, because the mere vibration of her own +voice would now have been enough to stop +entirely the breathings which came at longer +and longer intervals. Her frame ached, and +her arms seemed to have lost power,—so long +was it since she had changed her posture. +At such a moment it was that the great comet +came up from behind the brow. The apparition +was so wonderful, and so wholly unexpected, +that Mary’s heart beat; but it was +from no fear, but rather a kind of exhilaration. +Slowly it ascended, proving that it was no +meteor, as she had at the first moment conjectured. +When the bright tail disclosed itself, +she understood the spectacle, and rejoiced in +it, she scarcely knew why.</p> + +<p class='c006'>When at last the breathing on her shoulder +ceased, she let down the little corpse upon her +knee, and could just see, by the faint light +from the rush candle in the outer room, that +the eyes were half closed, and the face expressive +of no pain. She closed the eyes, and, +after a moment’s silence, said:</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Now, Ned, I am coming to you, in a +minute.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Is he asleep?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes. He is in the quiet long sleep I told +you of.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Ned feebly tried to make room for his +brother on the poor bed of shavings; and he +wondered when Mary said that she was +making a bed in the other corner which +would do very well. She was only spreading +mammy’s cloak on the ground, and laying +her own shawl over the sleeper; but she said +that would do very well.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mary was surprised to find Ned’s mind so +clear as that he had really been thinking +about Dan and the top. She truly supposed +that it was the clearing before death. He +said:</p> + +<p class='c006'>“You told me daddy was dead. Am I going +to be dead?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, I think so. Would not you like it?—to +go to sleep, and then be quite well?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But, shan’t I see Dan, then?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Not for a long time, I dare say: and +whenever you do, I don’t think you and he +will quarrel again. I can give Dan any message, +you know.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Tell him he may have my top. And +tell him I hope he won’t have the fever. +I’m sure I don’t like it at all. I wish you +would take me up, and let me be on your +knee.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mary could not refuse it, though it was +soon to be going over again the scene just +closed. Poor Ned was only too light, as to +weight; but he was so wasted and sore that +it was not easy to find a position for him. +For a few minutes he was interested by the +comet, which he was easily led to regard as a +beautiful sight, and then he begged to be laid +down again.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The sun was just up when Mary heard the +tap at the door below, which came every +morning at sunrise. She put her head out of +the window, and said softly that she was +coming,—would be down in two minutes. +She laid poor Ned beside his brother, and +covered him with the same shawl; drew off +the old sheets and coverlid from the bed of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>shavings, bundled them up with such towels +as were in the room, and put them out of the +window, Warrender being below, ready to +receive them. She did not venture to let the +poor mother see them, delirious as she was. +Softly did Mary tread on the floor, and go +down the creaking stair. When she reached +the street she drew in, with a deep sigh, the +morning air.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“The poor children’s bedding,” she said to +Warrender.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“They are gone?” he inquired. “What, +both?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“One just before midnight. The other half-an-hour +ago. And their mother will follow +soon.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“The Lord have mercy upon us,” said +Warrender, solemnly.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I think it is mercy to take a family thus +together,” replied Mary. “But I think of +poor Aunty. If I could find any one to sit +here for half-an-hour, I would go to her, and +indeed, I much wish it.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“There is a poor creature would be glad +enough to come, ma’am, if she thought you +would countenance it. A few words will tell +you the case. She is living with Simpson, +the baker’s man, without being his wife. +Widow Johnson was very stern with her, and +with her daughter, Billiter, for being neighbourly +with the poor girl—though people do +say that Simpson deceived her cruelly. I am +sure, if I might fetch Sally, she would come, +and be thankful; and——”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“O! ask her to come and help me. If she +has done wrong, that is the more reason why +she should do what good she can. How is +Ann?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Pretty well. Rather worn, as we must all +expect to be. She never stood so many hours +at the wash-tub, any one day, as she does +now every day: but then, as she says, there +never was so much reason.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And you, yourself?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I am getting through, ma’am, thank you. +I seem to see the end of the white-washing, +for one thing. They have sent us more +brushes of the right sort from O——, and I +should like, if I could, to get two or three +boys into training. They might do the outhouses +and the lower parts, where there are +fewest sick, while I am upstairs. But, for +some reason or other, the lads are shy of me. +There is some difference already, I assure you, +ma’am, both as to sight and smell; but there +might be more, if I could get better help.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And you are careful, I hope, for Ann’s +sake, to put all the linen first into a tub of +water outside.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, surely. I got the carpenter’s men to +set a row of tubs beside our door, and to +promise to change the water once a day. I +laughed at them for asking if they could catch +the fever that way: and they are willing +enough to oblige where there’s no danger. +Simpson offered to look to our boiler as he +goes to the bakehouse when, as he says, Ann +and I ought to be asleep. I let him do it and +thank him; but it is not much that we sleep, +or think of sleeping, just now.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Indeed,” said Mary, “you have a hard life +of it, and without pay or reward, I am afraid. +I never saw such——”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why, ma’am,” said Warrender, “you are +the last person to say those sort of things. +However, it is not a time for praising one +another, when there are signs in the heaven, +and God’s wrath on earth.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“You saw the comet, did you? How +beautiful it is! It will cheer our watch at +nights now. Ah! you see I don’t consider it +anything fearful, or a sign of anything but +that, having a new sort of stars brought before +our eyes to admire, we don’t understand all +about the heavens yet, though we know a +good deal; and just so with the fever: it is a +sign, not of wrath, as I take it, but that the +people here do not understand how to keep +their health. They have lived in dirt, and +damp, and closeness, some hungry and some +drunken: and when unusual weather comes, +a wet spring and a broiling summer, down +they sink under the fever. Do you know, I +dare not call this God’s wrath.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Warrender did not like to say it, but the +thought was in his mind, why people were +left so ignorant and so suffering. Mary was +quick at reading faces, and she answered the +good fellow’s mind, while she helped to hoist +the bundle of linen on his shoulder.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“We shall see, Warrender, whether the +people can learn by God’s teaching. He is +giving us a very clear and strong lesson now.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Warrender touched his hat in silence, and +walked away.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Aunty had for some time been out of +danger from the fever, or Mary could not +have left her to attend on the Billiters, urgent +as was their need. But her weakness was so +great that she had to be satisfied to lie still all +day in the intervals of Mary’s little visits. +Poor Jem brought her this and that, when she +asked for it, but he was more trouble than +help, from his incurable determination to +shut all doors and windows, and keep a +roaring fire: he did everything else, within +his power, that his mother desired him, but +on these points he was immoveable. If ever +his mother closed her eyes, he took the opportunity +to put more wood on the fire; and +he looked so grievously distressed if requested +to take it off again, that at last he was let +alone. Mary was fairly accustoming him to +occupy himself in bringing pails of water +and carrying away all refuse, when she was +summoned to the Billiters; but the hint was +given, and the neighbours saw that they need +no longer use water three or four times over +for washing, while poor Jem was happy to +carry it away, rinse the pails, and bring fresh. +His cousin Mary had often of late found him +thus engaged: but this morning he was at +home, cowering in a chair. When she set the +windows open, he made no practical objection; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>and the fire was actually out. Mary was not +therefore surprised at Aunty’s reply to her +inquiries.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I am tolerably easy myself, my dear, but I +can’t tell what has come over Jem; it seems to +me that somebody must have been giving him +drink, he staggered so when he crossed the +room half-an-hour ago; yet I hardly think +he would take it, he has such a dislike to +everything strong. What a thing it is that I +am lying here, unable to stir to see about it +myself!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“We will see about it,” said Mary, going to +poor Jem. “I neither think he would touch +drink, nor that any body would play such a +trick with him at such a time. No,” she went +on, when she had felt his pulse and looked +well at his face, “it is not drink: it is illness.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“The fever,” groaned the mother.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I think so. Courage, Aunty! we will +nurse him well: and the house is wholesome +now, you know. You are through the fever: +and his chance is a better one than yours, the +house is so much more airy, and I have more +experience.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But, Mary, you cannot go on for ever, +without sleep or rest, in this way. What is +to be done, I don’t see.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I do, Aunty. I am very well to-day. To-morrow +will take care of itself. I must get +Jem to bed; and if he soon seems to be +moaning and restless, you must mind it as +little as you can. It is very miserable, as you +have good reason to know; but——”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I know something that you do not, I see,” +said Aunty. “A more patient creature than +my poor Jem does not live in Bleaburn, nor +anywhere else.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What a good chance that gives him!” +observed Mary, “and what a blessing it is, for +himself and for you! I must go to my cousin +now presently; and I will send the doctor +to see Jem.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>The poor fellow allowed himself to be undressed; +and let his head fall on his bolster, +as if it could not have kept up a minute +longer. He was fairly down in the fever.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>That evening, Mary felt more at leisure +and at rest than for weeks past. There was +nothing to be done for Mrs. Billiter but to +watch beside her: and the carpenter had had +his whispered orders in the street for the +coffins for the two little boys. The mother +had asked no questions, and had appeared to +be wandering too much to take notice of anything +passing before her eyes. Now she was +quiet, and Mary felt the relief. She had refreshed +herself (and she used to tell, in after +years, what such refreshments were worth) +with cold water, and a clean wrapper, and a +mutton-chop, sent hot from the Plough and +Harrow for the Good Lady (with some wine +which she kept for the convalescents), and +she was now sitting back in her chair beside +the open window, through which fell a yellow +glow of reflected sunshine from the opposite +heights. All was profoundly still. When she +had once satisfied her conscience that she +ought not to be plying her needle because +her eyes were strained for want of sleep, she +gave herself up to the enjoyment—for she +really was capable of enjoyment through +everything—of watching the opposite precipice; +how the shadow crept up it; and +how the sunny crest seemed to grow brighter; +and how the swallows darted past their holes, +and skimmed down the hollow once more +before night should come on. Struck, at last, +by the silence, she turned her head, and was +astonished at the change she saw. Her cousin +lay quiet, looking as radiant as the sunset +itself; her large black eyes shining, unoppressed +by the rich light; her long dark +hair on each side the wasted face, and +waving down to the white hands which lay +outside the quilt. Their eyes met, full and +clear; and Mary knew that her cousin’s +mind was now clear, like the gaze of her eyes.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I see it all now,” said the dying woman, +gently.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What do you see, love?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I see the reason of everything that I did +not understand before.” And she began to +speak of her life and its events, and went on +with a force and clearness, and natural +eloquence—yet more, with a simple piety—which +Mary was wont to speak of afterwards +as the finest revelation of a noble soul that +she had ever unexpectedly met with. Mrs. +Billiter knew that her little boys were dead; +she knew, by some means or other, all the +horrors by which she was surrounded; and +she knew that she was about to die. Yet +the conversation was a thoroughly cheerful +one. The faces of both were smiling; the +voices of both were lively, though that of the +dying woman was feeble. After summing up +the experience of her life, and declaring what +she expected to experience next, and leaving +a message for her mother, she said there was +but one thing more; she ‘should like to +receive the sacrament.’ Mary wrote a note +in pencil to Mr. Finch, and sent it by Sally, +who had been hovering about ever since the +morning, in the hope of being of further +use, but who was glad now to get out of +sight, that her tears might have way; for she +felt that she was about to lose the only friend +who had been kind to her (in a way she could +accept) since Simpson had put her off from +the promised marriage.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“She is sorry to part with me,” said that +dying friend. “Cousin Mary, you do not +think, as my mother does, that I have done +wrong in noticing Sally, do you?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“No; I think you did well. And I think +your mother will be kind to her, for your +sake, from this time forward. Sickness and +death open our eyes to many things, you +know, cousin.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Ay, they do. I see it all now.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Sally was sorely ashamed to bring back +<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>Mr. Finch’s message. Well as she knew that +time was precious, she lingered with it at the +door.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mr. Finch was sorry, but he was too busy. +He hoped he should not be sent for again; +for he could not come.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Perhaps, Miss,” said Sally, with swimming +eyes, “it might have been better to send somebody +else than me. Perhaps, if you sent +somebody else—”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I do not think that, Sally. However, if +you will remain here, I will go myself. It +does not matter what he thinks of me, a +stranger in the place; and perhaps none of +his flock could so well tell him that this is a +duty which he cannot refuse.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mary had not walked up the street for +several weeks. Though her good influence +was in almost every house, in the form of +cleanliness, fresh air, cheerfulness, and hope, +she had been seen only when passing from +one sick room to another, among a cluster of +houses near her aunt’s. She supposed it +might be this disuse which made everything +appear strange; but it was odd scarcely to +feel her limbs when she walked, and to see +the houses and people like so many visions. +She had no feeling of illness, however, and +she said to herself, that some time or other +she should get a good long sleep; and then +everything would look and feel as it used to do.</p> + +<p class='c006'>As she passed along the street, the children +at play ran in to the houses to say that the +Good Lady was coming; and the healthy and +the convalescent came out on their door-steps, +to bid God bless her; and the sick, who were +sensible enough to know what was going on, +bade God bless her from their beds.</p> + +<p class='c006'>What influence the Good Lady used with +the clergyman there is no saying, as the conversation +was never reported by either of +them; but she soon came back bright and +cheerful, saying that Mr. Finch would follow +in an hour. She had stepped in at Warrender’s, +to beg the father and daughter to come and +communicate with the dying woman. They +would come: and Sally would go, she was sure, +and take Ann Warrender’s place at the wash-tub +at home; for there were several sick +people in want of fresh linen before night. +Poor Sally went sobbing through the streets. +She understood the Good Lady’s kindness in +sending her away, and on a work of usefulness, +because she, alas! could not receive the +communion. She was living in sin; and when +two or three were gathered together in the +name of Christ, she must be cast out.</p> + +<p class='c006'>There was little comfort in the service, +unless, as the bystanders hoped, the sick +woman was too feeble and too much absorbed +in her own thoughts to notice some things that +dismayed them. Mrs. Billiter was, indeed, +surprised at first at the clergyman’s refusal to +enter the chamber. He would come no further +than the door. Mary saw at a glance +that he was in no condition to be reasoned +with, and that she must give what aid she +could to get the administration over as decently +as possible. Happily, he made the service extremely +short. The little that there was he +read wrong: but Mrs. Billiter (and she alone) +was not disturbed by this. Whether it was +that the deadening of the ear had begun, or +that Mr. Finch spoke indistinctly, and was +chewing spices all the time, or that the observance +itself was enough for the poor woman, it +seemed all right with her. She lay with her +eyes still shining, her wasted hands clasped, +and a smile on her face, quite easy and content; +and when Mr. Finch was gone, she told +Mary again that she saw it all now, and was +quite ready. She was dead within an hour.</p> + +<p class='c006'>As for Warrender, he was more disturbed +than any one had seen him since the breaking +out of the fever.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Why, there it is before his eyes in the +Prayer-book,” said he, “that clergymen ‘shall +diligently from time to time (but especially in +the time of pestilence, or other infectious sickness) +exhort their parishioners to the often +receiving of the holy communion:’ and instead +of this, he even shuts up the church on +Sundays.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“He is not the first who has done that,” +said Mary. “It was done in times of plague, +as a matter of precaution.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But, Miss, should not a clergyman go all +the more among the people, and not the less, +for their having no comfort of worship?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Certainly: but you see how it is with +Mr. Finch, and you and I cannot alter it. +He has taken a panic; and I am sure he is +the one most to be pitied for that. I can tell +you too, between ourselves, that Mr. Finch +judges himself, at times, as severely as we can +judge him; and is more unhappy about being +of so little use to his people than his worst +enemy could wish him.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Then, Ma’am, why does not he pluck up +a little spirit, and do his duty?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“He has been made too soft,” he says, “by +a fond mother, who is always sending him +cordials and spices against the fever. We +must make some allowance, and look another +way. Let us be thankful that you and Ann +are not afraid. If our poor neighbours have +not all that we could wish, they have clean +bedding and clothes, and lime-washed rooms, +fresh and sweet compared with anything they +have known before.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And,” thought Warrender, though he did not say it, but only touched his hat as he +went after his business, “one as good as any +clergyman to pray by their bedsides, and +speak cheerfully to them of what is to come. +When I go up the stair, I might know who is +praying by the cheerfulness of the voice. I +never saw such a spirit in any woman,—never. +I have never once seen her cast down, ever so +little. If there is a tear in her eye, for other +people’s sake, there is a smile on her lips, +because her heart tells her that everything +that happens is all right.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>This night, Mary was to have slept. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>herself had intended it, warned by the strange +feelings which had come over her as she +walked up the street: and it would gratify +Aunty’s feelings that the corpse should not be +left. She intended to lie down and sleep +beside the still and unbreathing form of the +cousin whose last hours had been so beautiful +in her eyes. But Aunty’s feelings were now +tried in another direction. Unable to move, +Aunty was sorely distressed by Jem’s moanings +and restlessness; and Mary was the only +one who could keep him quiet in any degree. +So, without interval, she went to her work +of nursing again. Next, the funeral of Mrs. +Billiter, and two or three more, fixed for the +same day, were put off, because Mr. Finch +was ill. And when Mr. Finch was ill, he +sent to beg the Good Lady to come immediately +and nurse him. After writing to +his own family, to desire some of them to +come and take charge of him, she did go +to him: but not to remain day and night +as she did with the poor who had none to +help them. She saw that all was made +comfortable about him, gave him his medicines +at times, and always spoke cheerfully. +But it was as she saw from the beginning. +He was dying of fear, and of the intemperate +methods of precaution which he had +adopted, and of dissatisfaction with himself. +His nervous depression from the outset was +such as to predispose him to disease, and to +allow him no chance under it. He was +sinking when his mother and sister arrived, +pale and tearful, to nurse him: and it did +no good that they isolated the house, and +locked the doors, and took things in by the +window, after being fumigated by a sentinel +outside. The doctor laughed as he asked +them whether they would not be more glad +to see him, if he came down the chimney, +instead of their having to unlock the door +for him. He wondered they had not a +vinegar bath for him to go overhead in, +before entering their presence. The ladies +thought this shocking levity; and they did +not conceal their opinion. The doctor then +spoke gravely enough of the effects of fear +on the human frame. With its effects on +the conscience, and on the peace of the mind, +he said he had nothing to do. That was +the department of the physician of souls. +(His hearers were unconscious of the mournful +satire conveyed in these words.) His +business was with the effect of fear on the +nerves and brain, exhausting through them +the resources of life. He declared that Mr. +Finch would probably have been well at +that moment, if he had gone about as freely +as other persons among the sick, more +interested in getting them well than afraid +of being ill himself; and, for confirmation, +he pointed to the Good Lady and the +Warrenders, who had now for two months +run all sorts of risks, and showed no sign of +fever. They were fatigued, he said; too +much so; as he was himself; and something +must be done to relieve Miss Pickard especially; +but—</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Who is she?” inquired the ladies. “Why +is she so prominent here?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“As for who she is,” replied he, “I only +know that she is an angel.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Come down out of the clouds, I suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Something very like it. She dropped into +our hollow one August evening—nobody +knows whence nor why. As for her taking +the lead here, I imagine it is because there +was nobody else to do it.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“But has she saved many lives, do you +think?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Yes, of some that are too young to be +aware what they owe her; and of some yet +unborn. She could not do much for those +who were down in the fever before she came: +except, indeed, that it is much to give them a +sense of relief and comfort of body (though +short of saving life) and peace of mind, and +cheerfulness of heart. But the great consequences +of her presence are to come. When +I see the change that is taking place in the +cottages here, and in the clothes of the people, +and their care of their skins, and their notions +about their food, I feel disposed to believe +that this is the last plague that will ever be +known in Bleaburn.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Plague! O horrid!” exclaimed the shuddering +sister.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Call it what you will,” the doctor replied. +“The name matters little when the thing +makes itself so clear. Yes, by the way, it may +matter much with such a patient as we have +within there. Pray, whatever you do, don’t +use the word ‘plague’ within his hearing. +You must cheer him up; only that you sadly +want cheering yourselves. I think an hour a +day of the Good Lady’s smile would be the +best prescription for you all.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Do you think she would come? We +should be so obliged to her if she would!”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“And she should have a change of dress +lying ready in the passage-room,” declared the +young lady. “I think she is about my size. +Do ask her to come.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“When I see that she is not more wanted +elsewhere,” replied the doctor. “I need not +explain, however, that that smile of hers is +not an effect without a cause. If we could +find out whether we have anything of the +same cause in ourselves; we might have a +cheerfulness of our own, without troubling +her to come and give us some.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>The ladies thought this odd, and did not +quite understand it, and agreed that they +should not like to be merry and unfeeling in +a time of affliction; so they cried a great deal +when they were not in the sick room. They +derived some general idea, however, from the +doctor’s words, that cheerfulness was good for +the patient; and they kept assuring him, in +tones of forced vivacity, that there was no +danger, and that the doctor said he would +be well very soon. The patient groaned, +remembering the daily funerals of the last +<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>few weeks; and the only consequence was +that he distrusted the doctor. He sank more +rapidly than any other fever patient in the +place. In a newspaper paragraph, and on a +monumental tablet, he was described as a +martyr to his sacred office in a season of pestilence; +and his family called on future generations +to honour him accordingly.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I am sorry for the poor young man,” observed +the host at the Plough and Harrow; +“he did very well while nothing went wrong; +but he had no spirit for trying times.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Who has?” murmured farmer Neale. +“Any man’s heart may die within him that +looks into the churchyard now.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“There’s a woman’s that does not,” observed +the host; “I saw the Good Lady crossing the +churchyard this very morning, with a basket +of physic bottles on her arm—”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Ah! she goes to help to make up the +medicines every day now,” the hostess explained, +“since the people began to suspect +foul play in their physic.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“Well; she came across the bit of grass that +is left, and looked over the rows of graves—not +smiling exactly, but as if there was not a +sad thought from top to bottom of her mind—much +as she might look if she was coming +away from her own wedding.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What is that about ‘sweet hopes,’ in the +newspaper?” asked Neale; “about some ‘sweet +hopes’ that Mr. Finch had? Was he going +to be married?”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“By that, I should think he was in love,” +said the host: “and that may excuse some +backwardness in coming forward, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“The Good Lady is to be married, when +she gets home to America,” the hostess declared. +“Yes, ’tis true. Widow Johnson +told the doctor so.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“What <i>will</i> her lover say to her risking her +life, and spending her time in such a way, +here?” said Neale.</p> + +<p class='c006'>“She tells her aunt that he will only wish +he was here to help her. He is a clergyman. +‘O!’ says she, ‘he will only wish he was here +to help us.’”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I am sure I wish he was,” sighed Neale. +“I wonder what sort of a man will be sent us +next. I hope he will be something unlike +poor Mr. Finch.”</p> + +<p class='c006'>“I think you will have your wish,” said the +landlord. “No man of Mr. Finch’s sort would +be likely to come among us at such a time.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>THE SON OF SORROW.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>A FABLE FROM THE SWEDISH.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>All lonely, excluded from Heaven,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Sat <span class='sc'>Sorrow</span> one day on the strand;</div> + <div class='line'>And, mournfully buried in thought,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Form’d a figure of clay with her hand.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Jove</span> appeared. “What is this?” he demands;</div> + <div class='line in2'>She replied. “’Tis a figure of clay.</div> + <div class='line'>Show thy pow’r on the work of my hand;</div> + <div class='line in2'>Give it life, mighty Father, I pray!”</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Let him live!” said the God. “But observe,</div> + <div class='line in2'>As I <i>lend</i> him, he mine must remain.”</div> + <div class='line'>“Not so,” <span class='sc'>Sorrow</span> said, and implor’d,</div> + <div class='line in2'>“Oh! let me my offspring retain!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“’Tis to me his creation he owes.”</div> + <div class='line in2'>“Yes,” said <span class='sc'>Jove</span>, “but’twas I gave him breath.”</div> + <div class='line'>As he spoke, <span class='sc'>Earth</span> appears on the scene,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And, observing the image, thus saith:</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“From me—from my bosom he’s torn,</div> + <div class='line in2'>I demand, then, what’s taken from me.”</div> + <div class='line'>“This strife shall be settled,” said <span class='sc'>Jove</span>;</div> + <div class='line in2'>“Let <span class='sc'>Saturn</span> decide ’tween the three.”</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>This sentence the Judge gave. “To all</div> + <div class='line in2'>He belongs, so let no one complain;</div> + <div class='line'>The life, <span class='sc'>Jove</span>, Thou gav’st him shalt Thou</div> + <div class='line in2'>With his soul, when he dies, take again.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Thou, <span class='sc'>Earth</span>, shalt receive back his frame,</div> + <div class='line in2'>At peace in thy lap he’ll recline;</div> + <div class='line'>But during his whole troubled life,</div> + <div class='line in2'>He shall surely, O <span class='sc'>Sorrow</span>, be thine!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“His features thy look shall reflect;</div> + <div class='line in2'>Thy sigh shall be mixed with his breath;</div> + <div class='line'>And he ne’er shall be parted from thee</div> + <div class='line in2'>Until he reposes in death!”</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in16'>MORAL.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The sentence of Heaven, then is this:</div> + <div class='line in2'>And hence Man lies under the sod;</div> + <div class='line'>Though <span class='sc'>Sorrow</span> possesses him, living,</div> + <div class='line in2'>He returns both to <span class='sc'>Earth</span> and to <span class='sc'>God</span>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>THE APPETITE FOR NEWS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>The last great work of that great philosopher +and friend of the modern housewife, +Monsieur Alexis Soyer, is remarkable for a +curious omission. Although the author—a +foreigner—has abundantly proved his extensive +knowledge of the weakness of his +adopted nation; yet there is one of our +peculiarities which he has not probed. Had +he left out all mention of cold punch in connexion +with turtle; had his receipt for curry +contained no cayenne; had he forgotten to +send up tongs with asparagus, or to order +a service of artichokes without napkins, he +would have been thought forgetful; but when—with +the unction of a gastronome, and the +thoughtful skill of an artist—he marshals +forth all the luxuries of the British breakfast-table, +and forgets to mention its first necessity, +he shows a sort of ignorance. We put it to +his already extensive knowledge of English +character, whether he thinks it possible for +any English subject whose means bring him +under the screw of the Income-tax, to break +his fast without—a newspaper.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The city clerk emerging through folding +doors from bed to sitting-room, though thirsting +for tea, and hungering for toast, darts upon +that morning’s journal with an eagerness, and +unfolds it with a satisfaction, which show that +all his wants are gratified at once. Exactly +at the same hour, his master, the M.P., crosses +the hall of his mansion. As he enters the +breakfast-parlour, he fixes his eye on the fender, +where he knows his favourite damp sheet +<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>will be hung up to dry.—When the noble +lord first rings his bell, does not his valet +know that, however tardy the still-room-maid +may be with the early coffee, he dares +not appear before his lordship without the +‘Morning Post?’ Would the minister of +state presume to commence the day in town +till he has opened the ‘Times,’ or in the country +till he has perused the ‘Globe?’ Could the +oppressed farmer handle the massive spoon +for his first sip out of his sèvres cup till he +has read of ruin in the ‘Herald’ or ‘Standard?’ +Might the juvenile Conservative open his lips +to imbibe old English fare or to utter Young +England opinions, till he has glanced over the +‘Chronicle?’ Can the financial reformer +know breakfast-table happiness till he has +digested the ‘Daily News,’ or skimmed the +‘Express?’ And how would it be possible +for mine host to commence the day without +keeping his customers waiting till he has +perused the ‘Advertiser’ or the ‘Sun?’</p> + +<p class='c006'>In like manner the provinces cannot—once +a week at least—satisfy their digestive organs +till their local organ has satisfied their minds.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Else, what became of the 67,476,768 newspaper +stamps which were issued in 1848 (the +latest year of which a return has been made) +to the 150 London and the 238 provincial +English journals; of the 7,497,064 stamps +impressed on the corners of the 97 Scottish, +and of the 7,028,956 which adorned the 117 +Irish newspapers? A professor of the new +science of literary mensuration has applied +his foot-rule to this mass of print, and publishes +the result in ‘Bentley’s Miscellany.’ +According to him, the press sent forth, in +daily papers alone, a printed surface amounting +in twelve months to 349,308,000 superficial +feet. If to these are added all the +papers printed weekly and fortnightly in +London and the provinces, the whole amounts +to 1,446,150,000 square feet of printed surface, +which was, in 1849, placed before the +comprehensive vision of John Bull. The +area of a single morning paper,—the Times +say—is more than nineteen and a half square +feet, or nearly five feet by four, compared +with an ordinary octavo volume, the quantity +of matter daily issued is equal to +three hundred pages. There are four +morning papers whose superficies are nearly +as great, without supplements, which they +seldom publish. A fifth is only half the +size. We may reckon, therefore, that the +constant craving of Londoners for news is +supplied every morning with as much as would +fill about twelve hundred pages of an ordinary +novel; or not less than five volumes.</p> + +<p class='c006'>These acres of print sown broad-cast, produce +a daily crop to suit every appetite +and every taste. It has winged its way +from every spot on the earth’s surface, and +at last settled down and arranged itself into +intelligible meaning, made instinct with ink. +Now it tells of a next-door neighbour; then +of dwellers in the uttermost corners of the +earth. The black side of this black and white +daily history, consists of battle, murder, and +sudden death; of lightning and tempest; of +plague, pestilence, and famine; of sedition, +privy conspiracy and rebellion; of false doctrine, +heresy, and schism; of all other crimes, +casualties, and falsities, which we are enjoined +to pray to be defended from. The white side +chronicles heroism, charitableness, high purpose, +and lofty deeds; it advocates the truest +doctrines, and the practice of the most exalted +virtue: it records the spread of commerce, +religion, and science; it expresses the wisdom +of the few sages and shows the ignorance of +the neglected many—in fine, good and evil as +broadly defined or as inextricably mixed in +the newspapers as they are over the great +globe itself.</p> + +<p class='c006'>With this variety of temptation for all tastes, +it is no wonder that those who have the power +have also the will to read newspapers. The +former are not very many in this country where, +among the great bulk of the population, reading +still remains an accomplishment. It was so +in Addison’s time. ‘There is no humour of +my countrymen,’ says the Spectator, ‘which I +am more inclined to wonder at, than their +great thirst for news.’ This was written +at the time of imposition of the tax on newspapers, +when the indulgence in the appetite +received a check from increased costliness. +From that date (1712) the statistical history +of the public appetite for news is written in +the Stamp Office. For half a century from +the days of the Spectator, the number of +British and Irish newspapers was few. In +1782 there were only seventy-nine, but in the +succeeding eight years they increased rapidly. +There was ‘great news’ stirring in the world +in that interval,—the American War, the +French Revolution; beside which, the practice +had sprung up of giving domestic occurrences +in fuller detail than heretofore, and +journals became more interesting from that +cause. In 1790 they had nearly doubled in +number, having reached one hundred and +forty-six. This augmentation took place +partly in consequence of the establishment +of weekly papers—which originated in that +year—and of which thirty-two had been commenced +before the end of it. In 1809, twenty-nine +and a half millions of stamps were issued +to newspapers in Great Britain. The circulation +of journals naturally depends upon the +materials existing to fill them. While wars and +rumours of wars were rife they were extensively +read, but with the peace their sale fell +off. Hence we find, that in 1821 no more than +twenty-four millions of newspapers were disposed +of. Since then the spread of education—slow +as it has been—has increased the productiveness +of journalism. During the succeeding +eight-and-twenty years, the increase may be +judged of by reference to the figures we have +already jotted down; the sum of which is, +that during the year 1848 there were issued, +for English, Irish and Scotch newspapers +<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>eighty-two millions of stamps,—more than +thrice as many as were paid for in 1821. +The cause of this increase was chiefly the reduction +of the duty from an average of threepence +to one penny per stamp.</p> + +<p class='c006'>A curious comparison of the quantity of +news devoured by an Englishman and a +Frenchman, was made in 1819, in the <cite>Edinburgh +Review</cite>:—‘thirty-four thousand papers,’ +says the writer, are ‘dispatched daily from +Paris to the departments, among a population +of about twenty-six millions, making +one journal among 776 persons. By this, +the number of newspaper readers in England +would be to those in France as twenty to +one. But the number and circulation of +country papers in England are so much +greater than in France, that they raise the +proportion of English readers to about twenty-five +to one, and our papers contain about +three times as much letter-press as a French +paper. The result of all this is that an +Englishman reads about seventy-five times as +much of the newspapers of his country in a +given time, as a Frenchman does of his. But +in the towns of England, most of the papers +are distributed by means of porters, not by +post; on the other hand, on account of the +number of coffee-houses, public gardens, and +other modes of communication, less usual in +England, it is possible that each French paper +may be read, or listened to, by a greater +number of persons, and thus the English +mode of distribution may be compensated. +To be quite within bounds, however, the final +result is, that every Englishman reads daily +fifty-times as much as the Frenchman does, +of the newspapers of his country.’</p> + +<p class='c006'>From this it might be inferred that the +craving for news is peculiarly English. But +the above comparison is chiefly affected by the +restrictions put upon the French press, which, +in 1819, were very great. In this country, the +only restrictions were of a fiscal character; +for opinion and news there was, as now, +perfect liberty. It is proved, at the present +day, that Frenchmen love news as much as +the English; for now that all restriction is +nominally taken off, there are as many newspapers +circulated in France in proportion to +its population, as there are in England.</p> + +<p class='c006'>The appetite for news is, in truth, universal; +but is naturally disappointed, rather than +bounded, by the ability to read. Hence it is that +the circulation of newspapers is proportioned +in various countries to the spread of letters; +and if their sale is proportionately less in this +empire, than it is among better taught populations, +it is because there exist among us +fewer persons who are able to read them; +either at all, or so imperfectly, that attempts +to spell them give the tyro more pain than +pleasure. In America, where a system of +national education has made a nation of +readers, (whose taste is perhaps susceptible +of vast improvement, but who are readers +still) the sale of newspapers greatly exceeds +that of Great Britain. All over the continent +there are also more newspaper <i>readers</i>, in proportion +to the number of people, though, perhaps, +fewer buyers, from the facilities afforded +by coffee-houses and reading-rooms, which all +frequent. In support of this fact, we need go +no farther than the three kingdoms. Scotland—where +national education has largely given +the ability to read—a population of three +millions demands yearly from the Stamp +Office seven and a half millions of stamps; +while in Ireland, where national education +has had no time for development, eight +millions of people take half a million of +stamps <i>less</i> than Scotland.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Although it cannot be said that the appetite +for mere news is one of an elevated character; +yet as we have before hinted, the dissemination +of news takes place side by side with some of +the most sound, practical, and ennobling sentiments +and precepts that issue from any +other channels of the press. As an engine of +public liberty, the newspaper press is more +effectual than the Magna Charta, because its +powers are wielded with more ease, and +exercised with more promptitude and adaptiveness +to each particular case.</p> + +<p class='c006'>Mr. F. K. Hunt in his ‘Fourth Estate’ remarks, +‘The moral of the history of the press +seems to be, that when any large proportion +of a people have been taught to read, and +when upon this possession of the tools of +knowledge, there has grown up a habit of +perusing public prints, the state is virtually +powerless if it attempts to check the press. +James the Second in old times, and Charles +the Tenth, and Louis Philippe, more recently, +tried to trample down the Newspapers, and +everybody knows how the attempt resulted. +The prevalence or scarcity of Newspapers +in a country affords a sort of index to its +social state. Where Journals are numerous, +the people have power, intelligence, and +wealth; where Journals are few, the many +are in reality mere slaves. In the United +States every village has its Newspaper, and +every city a dozen of these organs of popular +sentiment. In England we know how +numerous and how influential for good the +Papers are; whilst in France they have +perhaps still greater power. Turn to Russia, +where Newspapers are comparatively unknown, +and we see the people sold with +the earth they are compelled to till. Austria, +Italy, Spain, occupy positions between the +extremes—the rule holding good in all, that +in proportion to the freedom of the press is +the freedom and prosperity of the people.’</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>Monthly Supplement of ‘HOUSEHOLD WORDS,’</div> + <div class='c003'>Conducted by <span class='sc'>Charles Dickens</span>.</div> + <div class='c003'><i>Price 2d., Stamped 3d.</i>,</div> + <div class='c003'><span class='large'>THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE</span></div> + <div class='c003'>OF</div> + <div class='c003'>CURRENT EVENTS.</div> + <div class='c003'><i>The Number, containing a history of the past month, was issued with the Magazines.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c003'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c013'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ul class='ul_1 c001'> + <li>Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78175 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-02-03 20:03:02 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/78175-h/images/cover.jpg b/78175-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98dcd67 --- /dev/null +++ b/78175-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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