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diff --git a/31291.txt b/31291.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5a0f07 --- /dev/null +++ b/31291.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10091 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - +Swanston Edition Vol. XXII (of 25), by Robert Louis Stevenson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition Vol. XXII (of 25) + Juvenilia and Other Papers; The Pentland Rising; Sketches; College Papers; Notes and Essays Chiefly of the Road; Criticisms; An Appeal to the Clergy of the Church Of Scotland; The Charity Bazaar; The Light-Keeper; On a New Form of Intermittent Light for Lighthouses; On the Thermal Influence of Forests; Essays of Travel; War Correspondence from Stevenson's Note-Book + + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + + + +Release Date: February 16, 2010 [eBook #31291] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF ROBERT LOUIS +STEVENSON - SWANSTON EDITION VOL. XXII (OF 25)*** + + +E-text prepared by Marius Masi, Jonathan Ingram, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 31291-h.htm or 31291-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31291/31291-h/31291-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31291/31291-h.zip) + + +Transcriber's note: + + Letters following a carat (^) were originally printed in + superscript. + + A list of corrections is at the end of this e-book + + + + + + THE WORKS OF + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + + SWANSTON EDITION + VOLUME XXII + + _Of this SWANSTON EDITION in Twenty-five + Volumes of the Works of ROBERT LOUIS + STEVENSON Two Thousand and Sixty Copies + have been printed, of which only Two Thousand + Copies are for sale._ + + _This is No._ .......... + +[Illustration: R. L. S. SPEARING FISH IN THE BOW OF THE SCHOONER +"EQUATOR"] + + THE WORKS OF + ROBERT LOUIS + STEVENSON + + VOLUME TWENTY-TWO + + + LONDON: PUBLISHED BY CHATTO AND + WINDUS: IN ASSOCIATION WITH CASSELL + AND COMPANY LIMITED: WILLIAM + HEINEMANN: AND LONGMANS GREEN + AND COMPANY MDCCCCXII + + + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + + +CONTENTS + + JUVENILIA AND OTHER PAPERS + + THE PENTLAND RISING + + PAGE + I. THE CAUSES OF THE REVOLT 3 + II. THE BEGINNING 6 + III. THE MARCH OF THE REBELS 8 + IV. RULLION GREEN 13 + V. A RECORD OF BLOOD 17 + + + SKETCHES + + I. THE SATIRIST 25 + II. NUITS BLANCHES 27 + III. THE WREATH OF IMMORTELLES 30 + IV. NURSES 34 + V. A CHARACTER 37 + + + COLLEGE PAPERS + + I. EDINBURGH STUDENTS IN 1824 41 + II. THE MODERN STUDENT CONSIDERED GENERALLY 45 + III. DEBATING SOCIETIES 53 + IV. THE PHILOSOPHY OF UMBRELLAS 58 + V. THE PHILOSOPHY OF NOMENCLATURE 63 + + + NOTES AND ESSAYS CHIEFLY OF THE ROAD + + I. A RETROSPECT 71 + II. COCKERMOUTH AND KESWICK 80 + III. ROADS 90 + IV. NOTES ON THE MOVEMENTS OF YOUNG CHILDREN 97 + V. ON THE ENJOYMENT OF UNPLEASANT PLACES 103 + VI. AN AUTUMN EFFECT 112 + VII. A WINTER'S WALK IN CARRICK AND GALLOWAY 132 + VIII. FOREST NOTES 142 + + + CRITICISMS + + I. LORD LYTTON'S "FABLES IN SONG" 171 + II. SALVINI'S MACBETH 180 + III. BAGSTER'S "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS" 186 + + + AN APPEAL TO THE CLERGY OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND 199 + + THE CHARITY BAZAAR 213 + + THE LIGHT-KEEPER 217 + + ON A NEW FORM OF INTERMITTENT LIGHT FOR LIGHTHOUSES 220 + + ON THE THERMAL INFLUENCE OF FORESTS 225 + + + ESSAYS OF TRAVEL + + I. DAVOS IN WINTER 241 + II. HEALTH AND MOUNTAINS 244 + III. ALPINE DIVERSIONS 248 + IV. THE STIMULATION OF THE ALPS 252 + + + STEVENSON AT PLAY + + INTRODUCTION BY LLOYD OSBOURNE 259 + + WAR CORRESPONDENCE FROM STEVENSON'S NOTE-BOOK 263 + + + THE DAVOS PRESS + + MORAL EMBLEMS, ETC.: FACSIMILES + + ADVERTISEMENT OF BLACK CANYON + + BLACK CANYON, OR WILD ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST + + NOT I, AND OTHER POEMS + + MORAL EMBLEMS + + ADVERTISEMENT OF MORAL EMBLEMS: EDITION DE LUXE + + ADVERTISEMENT OF MORAL EMBLEMS: SECOND COLLECTION + + MORAL EMBLEMS: SECOND COLLECTION + + A MARTIAL ELEGY FOR SOME LEAD SOLDIERS + + ADVERTISEMENT OF THE GRAVER AND THE PEN + + THE GRAVER AND THE PEN + + + MORAL TALES + + ROBIN AND BEN; OR, THE PIRATE AND THE APOTHECARY + + THE BUILDER'S DOOM + + + + +JUVENILIA AND OTHER PAPERS + + + + + THE PENTLAND RISING + + A PAGE OF HISTORY + 1666 + + +A cloud of witnesses ly here, Who for Christ's interest did appear. + +_Inscription on Battle-field at Rullion Green._ + + + EDINBURGH + + ANDREW ELLIOT, 17 PRINCES STREET + 1866 + +_Facsimile of original Title-page_ + + + + +THE PENTLAND RISING + +I + +THE CAUSES OF THE REVOLT + + "Halt, passenger; take heed what thou dost see, + This tomb doth show for what some men did die." + + _Monument, Greyfriars' Churchyard, Edinburgh_, 1661-1668.[1] + + +Two hundred years ago a tragedy was enacted in Scotland, the memory +whereof has been in great measure lost or obscured by the deep tragedies +which followed it. It is, as it were, the evening of the night of +persecution--a sort of twilight, dark indeed to us, but light as the +noonday when compared with the midnight gloom which followed. This fact, +of its being the very threshold of persecution, lends it, however, an +additional interest. + +The prejudices of the people against Episcopacy were "out of measure +increased," says Bishop Burnet, "by the new incumbents who were put in +the places of the ejected preachers, and were generally very mean and +despicable in all respects. They were the worst preachers I ever heard; +they were ignorant to a reproach; and many of them were openly vicious. +They ... were indeed the dreg and refuse of the northern parts. Those of +them who arose above contempt or scandal were men of such violent +tempers that they were as much hated as the others were despised."[2] It +was little to be wondered at, from this account, that the country-folk +refused to go to the parish church, and chose rather to listen to outed +ministers in the fields. But this was not to be allowed, and their +persecutors at last fell on the method of calling a roll of the +parishioners' names every Sabbath, and marking a fine of twenty +shillings Scots to the name of each absenter. In this way very large +debts were incurred by persons altogether unable to pay. Besides this, +landlords were fined for their tenants' absences, tenants for their +landlords', masters for their servants', servants for their masters', +even though they themselves were perfectly regular in their attendance. +And as the curates were allowed to fine with the sanction of any common +soldier, it may be imagined that often the pretexts were neither very +sufficient nor well proven. + +When the fines could not be paid at once, Bibles, clothes, and household +utensils were seized upon, or a number of soldiers, proportionate to his +wealth, were quartered on the offender. The coarse and drunken privates +filled the houses with woe; snatched the bread from the children to feed +their dogs; shocked the principles, scorned the scruples, and blasphemed +the religion of their humble hosts; and when they had reduced them to +destitution, sold the furniture, and burned down the roof-tree which was +consecrated to the peasants by the name of Home. For all this attention +each of these soldiers received from his unwilling landlord a certain +sum of money per day--three shillings sterling, according to _Naphtali._ +And frequently they were forced to pay quartering money for more men +than were in reality "cessed on them." At that time it was no strange +thing to behold a strong man begging for money to pay his fines, and +many others who were deep in arrears, or who had attracted attention in +some other way, were forced to flee from their homes, and take refuge +from arrest and imprisonment among the wild mosses of the uplands.[3] + +One example in particular we may cite: + +John Neilson, the Laird of Corsack, a worthy man, was, unfortunately for +himself, a Nonconformist. First he was fined in four hundred pounds +Scots, and then through cessing he lost nineteen hundred and +ninety-three pounds Scots. He was next obliged to leave his house and +flee from place to place, during which wanderings he lost his horse. His +wife and children were turned out of doors, and then his tenants were +fined till they too were almost ruined. As a final stroke, they drove +away all his cattle to Glasgow and sold them.[4] Surely it was time that +something were done to alleviate so much sorrow, to overthrow such +tyranny. + +About this time too there arrived in Galloway a person calling himself +Captain Andrew Gray, and advising the people to revolt. He displayed +some documents purporting to be from the northern Covenanters, and +stating that they were prepared to join in any enterprise commenced by +their southern brethren. The leader of the persecutors was Sir James +Turner, an officer afterwards degraded for his share in the matter. "He +was naturally fierce, but was mad when he was drunk, and that was very +often," said Bishop Burnet. "He was a learned man, but had always been +in armies, and knew no other rule but to obey orders. He told me he had +no regard to any law, but acted, as he was commanded, in a military +way."[5] + +This was the state of matters, when an outrage was committed which gave +spirit and determination to the oppressed countrymen, lit the flame of +insubordination, and for the time at least recoiled on those who +perpetrated it with redoubled force. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [1] "Theater of Mortality," p. 10; Edin. 1713. + + [2] "History of My Own Times," beginning 1660, by Bishop Gilbert + Burnet, p. 158. + + [3] Wodrow's "Church History," Book II. chap. i. sect. 1. + + [4] Crookshank's "Church History," 1751, second ed. p. 202. + + [5] Burnet, p. 348. + + + + +II + +THE BEGINNING + + I love no warres, If it must be + I love no jarres, Warre we must see + Nor strife's fire. (So fates conspire), + May discord cease, May we not feel + Let's live in peace: The force of steel: + This I desire. This I desire. + + T. JACKSON, 1651.[6] + + +Upon Tuesday, November 13th, 1666, Corporal George Deanes and three +other soldiers set upon an old man in the clachan of Dairy and demanded +the payment of his fines. On the old man's refusing to pay, they forced +a large party of his neighbours to go with them and thresh his corn. The +field was a certain distance out of the clachan, and four persons, +disguised as countrymen, who had been out on the moors all night, met +this mournful drove of slaves, compelled by the four soldiers to work +for the ruin of their friend. However, chilled to the bone by their +night on the hills, and worn out by want of food, they proceeded to the +village inn to refresh themselves. Suddenly some people rushed into the +room where they were sitting, and told them that the soldiers were about +to roast the old man, naked, on his own girdle. This was too much for +them to stand, and they repaired immediately to the scene of this gross +outrage, and at first merely requested that the captive should be +released. On the refusal of the two soldiers who were in the front room, +high words were given and taken on both sides, and the other two rushed +forth from an adjoining chamber and made at the countrymen with drawn +swords. One of the latter, John M'Lellan of Barscob, drew a pistol and +shot the corporal in the body. The pieces of tobacco-pipe with which it +was loaded, to the number of ten at least, entered him, and he was so +much disturbed that he never appears to have recovered, for we find long +afterwards a petition to the Privy Council requesting a pension for him. +The other soldiers then laid down their arms, the old man was rescued, +and the rebellion was commenced.[7] + +And now we must turn to Sir James Turner's memoirs of himself; for, +strange to say, this extraordinary man was remarkably fond of literary +composition, and wrote, besides the amusing account of his own +adventures just mentioned, a large number of essays and short +biographies, and a work on war, entitled "Pallas Armata." The following +are some of the shorter pieces: "Magick," "Friendship," "Imprisonment," +"Anger," "Revenge," "Duells," "Cruelty," "A Defence of some of the +Ceremonies of the English Liturgie--to wit--Bowing at the Name of Jesus, +The frequent repetition of the Lord's Prayer and Good Lord deliver us, +Of the Doxologie, Of Surplesses, Rotchets, Cannonicall Coats," etc. From +what we know of his character we should expect "Anger" and "Cruelty" to +be very full and instructive. But what earthly right he had to meddle +with ecclesiastical subjects it is hard to see. + +Upon the 12th of the month he had received some information concerning +Gray's proceedings, but as it was excessively indefinite in its +character, he paid no attention to it. On the evening of the 14th, +Corporal Deanes was brought into Dumfries, who affirmed stoutly that he +had been shot while refusing to sign the Covenant--a story rendered +singularly unlikely by the after conduct of the rebels. Sir James +instantly despatched orders to the cessed soldiers either to come to +Dumfries or meet him on the way to Dairy, and commanded the thirteen or +fourteen men in the town with him to come at nine next morning to his +lodging for supplies. + +On the morning of Thursday the rebels arrived at Dumfries with 50 horse +and 150 foot. Neilson of Corsack, and Gray, who commanded, with a +considerable troop, entered the town, and surrounded Sir James Turner's +lodging. Though it was between eight and nine o'clock, that worthy, +being unwell, was still in bed, but rose at once and went to the window. + +Neilson and some others cried, "You may have fair quarter." + +"I need no quarter," replied Sir James; "nor can I be a prisoner, seeing +there is no war declared." On being told, however, that he must either +be a prisoner or die, he came down, and went into the street in his +night-shirt. Here Gray showed himself very desirous of killing him, but +he was overruled by Corsack. However, he was taken away a prisoner, +Captain Gray mounting him on his own horse, though, as Turner naively +remarks, "there was good reason for it, for he mounted himself on a +farre better one of mine." A large coffer containing his clothes and +money, together with all his papers, were taken away by the rebels. They +robbed Master Chalmers, the Episcopalian minister of Dumfries, of his +horse, drank the King's health at the market cross, and then left +Dumfries.[8] + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [6] Fuller's "Historie of the Holy Warre," fourth ed. 1651. + + [7] Wodrow, vol. ii. p. 17. + + [8] Sir J. Turner's "Memoirs," pp. 148-50. + + + + +III + +THE MARCH OF THE REBELS + + "Stay, passenger, take notice what thou reads, + At Edinburgh lie our bodies, here our heads; + Our right hands stood at Lanark, these we want, + Because with them we signed the Covenant." + + _Epitaph on a Tombstone at Hamilton._[9] + + +On Friday the 16th, Bailie Irvine of Dumfries came to the Council at +Edinburgh, and gave information concerning this "horrid rebellion." In +the absence of Rothes, Sharpe presided--much to the wrath of some +members; and as he imagined his own safety endangered, his measures were +most energetic. Dalzell was ordered away to the West, the guards round +the city were doubled, officers and soldiers were forced to take the +oath of allegiance, and all lodgers were commanded to give in their +names. Sharpe, surrounded with all these guards and precautions, +trembled--trembled as he trembled when the avengers of blood drew him +from his chariot on Magus Muir,--for he knew how he had sold his trust, +how he had betrayed his charge, and he felt that against him must their +chiefest hatred be directed, against him their direst thunderbolts be +forged. But even in his fear the apostate Presbyterian was unrelenting, +unpityingly harsh; he published in his manifesto no promise of pardon, +no inducement to submission. He said, "If you submit not you must die," +but never added, "If you submit you may live!"[10] + +Meantime the insurgents proceeded on their way. At Carsphairn they were +deserted by Captain Gray, who, doubtless in a fit of oblivion, neglected +to leave behind him the coffer containing Sir James's money. Who he was +is a mystery, unsolved by any historian; his papers were evidently +forgeries--that, and his final flight, appear to indicate that he was an +agent of the Royalists, for either the King or the Duke of York was +heard to say, "That, if he might have his wish, he would have them all +turn rebels and go to arms."[11] + +Upon the 18th day of the month they left Carsphairn and marched onwards. + +Turner was always lodged by his captors at a good inn, frequently at the +best of which their halting-place could boast. Here many visits were +paid to him by the ministers and officers of the insurgent force. In his +description of these interviews he displays a vein of satiric severity, +admitting any kindness that was done to him with some qualifying +souvenir of former harshness, and gloating over any injury, mistake, or +folly, which it was his chance to suffer or to hear. He appears, +notwithstanding all this, to have been on pretty good terms with his +cruel "phanaticks," as the following extract sufficiently proves: + +"Most of the foot were lodged about the church or churchyard, and order +given to ring bells next morning for a sermon to be preached by Mr. +Welch. Maxwell of Morith, and Major M'Cullough invited me to heare 'that +phanatick sermon' (for soe they merrilie called it). They said that +preaching might prove an effectual meane to turne me, which they +heartilie wished. I answered to them that I was under guards, and that +if they intended to heare that sermon, it was probable I might likewise, +for it was not like my guards wold goe to church and leave me alone at +my lodgeings. Bot to what they said of my conversion, I said it wold be +hard to turne a Turner. Bot because I founde them in a merrie humour, I +said, if I did not come to heare Mr. Welch preach, then they might fine +me in fortie shillings Scots, which was double the suome of what I had +exacted from the phanatics."[12] + +This took place at Ochiltree, on the 22nd day of the month. The +following is recounted by this personage with malicious glee, and +certainly, if authentic, it is a sad proof of how chaff is mixed with +wheat, and how ignorant, almost impious, persons were engaged in this +movement; nevertheless we give it, for we wish to present with +impartiality all the alleged facts to the reader: + +"Towards the evening Mr. Robinsone and Mr. Crukshank gaue me a visite; I +called for some ale purposelie to heare one of them blesse it. It fell +Mr. Robinsone to seeke the blessing, who said one of the most bombastick +graces that ever I heard in my life. He summoned God Almightie very +imperiouslie to be their secondarie (for that was his language). 'And +if,' said he, 'thou wilt not be our Secondarie, we will not fight for +thee at all, for it is not our cause bot thy cause; and if thou wilt +not fight for our cause and thy oune cause, then we are not obliged to +fight for it. They say,' said he, 'that Dukes, Earles, and Lords are +coming with the King's General against us, bot they shall be nothing bot +a threshing to us.' This grace did more fullie satisfie me of the folly +and injustice of their cause, then the ale did quench my thirst."[13] + +Frequently the rebels made a halt near some roadside alehouse, or in +some convenient park, where Colonel Wallace, who had now taken the +command, would review the horse and foot, during which time Turner was +sent either into the alehouse or round the shoulder of the hill, to +prevent him from seeing the disorders which were likely to arise. He +was, at last, on the 25th day of the month, between Douglas and Lanark, +permitted to behold their evolutions. "I found their horse did consist +of four hundreth and fortie, and the foot of five hundreth and +upwards.... The horsemen were armed for most part with suord and +pistoll, some onlie with suord. The foot with musket, pike, sith +(scythe), forke, and suord; and some with suords great and long." He +admired much the proficiency of their cavalry, and marvelled how they +had attained to it in so short a time.[14] + +At Douglas, which they had just left on the morning of this great +wapinshaw, they were charged--awful picture of depravity!--with the +theft of a silver spoon and a nightgown. Could it be expected that while +the whole country swarmed with robbers of every description, such a rare +opportunity for plunder should be lost by rogues--that among a thousand +men, even though fighting for religion, there should not be one Achan in +the camp? At Lanark a declaration was drawn up and signed by the chief +rebels. In it occurs the following: + +"The just sense whereof"--the sufferings of the country--"made us +choose, rather to betake ourselves to the fields for self-defence, than +to stay at home, burdened daily with the calamities of others, and +tortured with the fears of our own approaching misery."[15] + +The whole body, too, swore the Covenant, to which ceremony the epitaph +at the head of this chapter seems to refer. + +A report that Dalzell was approaching drove them from Lanark to +Bathgate, where, on the evening of Monday the 26th, the wearied army +stopped. But at twelve o'clock the cry, which served them for a trumpet, +of "Horse! horse!" and "Mount the prisoner!" resounded through the +night-shrouded town, and called the peasants from their well-earned rest +to toil onwards in their march. The wind howled fiercely over the +moorland; a close, thick, wetting rain descended. Chilled to the bone, +worn out with long fatigue, sinking to the knees in mire, onward they +marched to destruction. One by one the weary peasants fell off from +their ranks to sleep, and die in the rain-soaked moor, or to seek some +house by the wayside wherein to hide till daybreak. One by one at first, +then in gradually increasing numbers, at every shelter that was seen, +whole troops left the waning squadrons, and rushed to hide themselves +from the ferocity of the tempest. To right and left nought could be +descried but the broad expanse of the moor, and the figures of their +fellow-rebels seen dimly through the murky night, plodding onwards +through the sinking moss. Those who kept together--a miserable +few--often halted to rest themselves, and to allow their lagging +comrades to overtake them. Then onward they went again, still hoping for +assistance, reinforcement, and supplies; onward again, through the wind, +and the rain, and the darkness--onward to their defeat at Pentland, and +their scaffold at Edinburgh. It was calculated that they lost one half +of their army on that disastrous night-march. + +Next night they reached the village of Colinton, four miles from +Edinburgh, where they halted for the last time.[16] + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [9] "A Cloud of Witnesses," p. 376. + + [10] Wodrow, pp. 19, 20. + + [11] "A Hind Let Loose," p. 123. + + [12] Turner, p. 163. + + [13] Turner, p. 198. + + [14] _Ibid._ p. 167. + + [15] Wodrow, p. 29. + + [16] Turner, Wodrow, and "Church History" by James Kirkton, an outed + minister of the period. + + + + +IV + +RULLION GREEN + + "From Covenanters with uplifted hands, + From Remonstrators with associate bands, + Good Lord, deliver us!" + + _Royalist Rhyme_, KIRKTON, p. 127. + + +Late on the fourth night of November, exactly twenty-four days before +Rullion Green, Richard and George Chaplain, merchants in Haddington, +beheld four men, clad like West-country Whigamores, standing round some +object on the ground. It was at the two-mile cross, and within that +distance from their homes. At last, to their horror, they discovered +that the recumbent figure was a livid corpse, swathed in a blood-stained +winding-sheet.[17] Many thought that this apparition was a portent of +the deaths connected with the Pentland Rising. + +On the morning of Wednesday, the 28th of November 1666, they left +Colinton and marched to Rullion Green. There they arrived about sunset. +The position was a strong one. On the summit of a bare, heathery spur of +the Pentlands are two hillocks, and between them lies a narrow band of +flat marshy ground. On the highest of the two mounds--that nearest the +Pentlands, and on the left hand of the main body--was the greater part +of the cavalry, under Major Learmont; on the other Barscob and the +Galloway gentlemen; and in the centre Colonel Wallace and the weak, +half-armed infantry. Their position was further strengthened by the +depth of the valley below, and the deep chasm-like course of the Rullion +Burn. + +The sun, going down behind the Pentlands, cast golden lights and blue +shadows on their snow-clad summits, slanted obliquely into the rich +plain before them, bathing with rosy splendour the leafless, +snow-sprinkled trees, and fading gradually into shadow in the distance. +To the south, too, they beheld a deep-shaded amphitheatre of heather and +bracken; the course of the Esk, near Penicuik, winding about at the foot +of its gorge; the broad, brown expanse of Maw Moss; and, fading into +blue indistinctness in the south, the wild heath-clad Peeblesshire +hills. In sooth, that scene was fair, and many a yearning glance was +cast over that peaceful evening scene from the spot where the rebels +awaited their defeat; and when the fight was over, many a noble fellow +lifted his head from the blood-stained heather to strive with darkening +eyeballs to behold that landscape, over which, as over his life and his +cause, the shadows of night and of gloom were falling and thickening. + +It was while waiting on this spot that the fear-inspiring cry was +raised: "The enemy! Here come the enemy!" + +Unwilling to believe their own doom--for our insurgents still hoped for +success in some negotiations for peace which had been carried on at +Colinton--they called out, "They are some of our own." + +"They are too blacke" (_i.e._ numerous), "fie! fie! for ground to draw +up on," cried Wallace, fully realising the want of space for his men, +and proving that it was not till after this time that his forces were +finally arranged.[18] + +First of all the battle was commenced by fifty Royalist horse sent +obliquely across the hill to attack the left wing of the rebels. An +equal number of Learmont's men met them, and, after a struggle, drove +them back. The course of the Rullion Burn prevented almost all pursuit, +and Wallace, on perceiving it, despatched a body of foot to occupy both +the burn and some ruined sheep walls on the farther side. + +Dalzell changed his position, and drew up his army at the foot of the +hill, on the top of which were his foes. He then despatched a mingled +body of infantry and cavalry to attack Wallace's outpost, but they also +were driven back. A third charge produced a still more disastrous +effect, for Dalzell had to check the pursuit of his men by a +reinforcement. + +These repeated checks bred a panic in the Lieutenant-General's ranks, +for several of his men flung down their arms. Urged by such fatal +symptoms, and by the approaching night, he deployed his men, and closed +in overwhelming numbers on the centre and right flank of the insurgent +army. In the increasing twilight the burning matches of the firelocks, +shimmering on barrel, halbert, and cuirass, lent to the approaching army +a picturesque effect, like a huge, many-armed giant breathing flame into +the darkness. + +Placed on an overhanging hill, Welch and Semple cried aloud, "The God of +Jacob! The God of Jacob!" and prayed with uplifted hands for +victory.[19] + +But still the Royalist troops closed in. + +Captain John Paton was observed by Dalzell, who determined to capture +him with his own hands. Accordingly he charged forward, presenting his +pistols. Paton fired, but the balls hopped off Dalzell's buff coat and +fell into his boot. With the superstition peculiar to his age, the +Nonconformist concluded that his adversary was rendered bullet-proof by +enchantment, and, pulling some small silver coins from his pocket, +charged his pistol therewith. Dalzell, seeing this, and supposing, it is +likely, that Paton was putting in larger balls, hid behind his servant, +who was killed.[20] + +Meantime the outposts were forced, and the army of Wallace was enveloped +in the embrace of a hideous boa-constrictor--tightening, closing, +crushing every semblance of life from the victim enclosed in his toils. +The flanking parties of horse were forced in upon the centre, and +though, as even Turner grants, they fought with desperation, a general +flight was the result. + +But when they fell there was none to sing their coronach or wail the +death-wail over them. Those who sacrificed themselves for the peace, the +liberty, and the religion of their fellow-countrymen, lay bleaching in +the field of death for long, and when at last they were buried by +charity, the peasants dug up their bodies, desecrated their graves, and +cast them once more upon the open heath for the sorry value of their +winding-sheets! + + + _Inscription on stone at Rullion Green_ + + HERE AND NEAR TO THIS PLACE LYES THE REVEREND M^R JOHN CROOKSHANK AND + M^R ANDREW M^CCORMICK MINISTERS OF THE GOSPEL AND ABOUT FIFTY OTHER + TRUE COVENANTED PRESBYTERIANS WHO WERE KILLED IN THIS PLACE IN THEIR + OWN INOCENT SELF DEFENCE AND DEFFENCE OF THE COVENANTED WORK OF + REFORMATION BY THOMAS DALZEEL OF BINS UPON THE 28 OF NOVEMBER 1666. + REV. 12. 11. ERECTED SEPT. 28 1738. + + + _Back of stone_: + + A Cloud of Witnesses lyes here, + Who for Christ's Interest did appear, + For to restore true Liberty, + O'erturned then by tyranny. + And by proud Prelats who did Rage + Against the Lord's own heritage. + They sacrificed were for the laws + Of Christ their king, his noble cause. + These heroes fought with great renown + By falling got the Martyr's crown.[21] + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [17] Kirkton, p. 244. + + [18] Kirkton. + + [19] Turner. + + [20] Kirkton. + + [21] Kirkton. + + + + +V + +A RECORD OF BLOOD + + "They cut his hands ere he was dead, + And after that struck off his head. + His blood under the altar cries + For vengeance on Christ's enemies." + + _Epitaph on Tomb at Longcross of Clermont._[22] + + +Master Andrew Murray, an outed minister, residing in the Potterrow, on +the morning after the defeat, heard the sounds of cheering and the march +of many feet beneath his window. He gazed out. With colours flying, and +with music sounding, Dalzell, victorious, entered Edinburgh. But his +banners were dyed in blood, and a band of prisoners were marched within +his ranks. The old man knew it all. That martial and triumphant strain +was the death-knell of his friends and of their cause, the rust-hued +spots upon the flags were the tokens of their courage and their death, +and the prisoners were the miserable remnant spared from death in battle +to die upon the scaffold. Poor old man! he had outlived all joy. Had he +lived longer he would have seen increasing torment and increasing woe; +he would have seen the clouds, then but gathering in mist, cast a more +than midnight darkness over his native hills, and have fallen a victim +to those bloody persecutions which, later, sent their red memorials to +the sea by many a burn. By a merciful Providence all this was spared to +him--he fell beneath the first blow; and ere four days had passed since +Rullion Green, the aged minister of God was gathered to his fathers.[23] + +When Sharpe first heard of the rebellion, he applied to Sir Alexander +Ramsay, the Provost, for soldiers to guard his house. Disliking their +occupation, the soldiers gave him an ugly time of it. All the night +through they kept up a continuous series of "alarms and incursions," +"cries of 'Stand!' 'Give fire!'" etc., which forced the prelate to flee +to the Castle in the morning, hoping there to find the rest which was +denied him at home.[24] Now, however, when all danger to himself was +past, Sharpe came out in his true colours, and scant was the justice +likely to be shown to the foes of Scottish Episcopacy when the Primate +was by. The prisoners were lodged in Haddo's Hole, a part of St. Giles' +Cathedral, where, by the kindness of Bishop Wishart, to his credit be it +spoken, they were amply supplied with food.[25] + +Some people urged, in the Council, that the promise of quarter which had +been given on the field of battle should protect the lives of the +miserable men. Sir John Gilmoure, the greatest lawyer, gave no +opinion--certainly a suggestive circumstance,--but Lord Lee declared +that this would not interfere with their legal trial; "so to bloody +executions they went."[26] To the number of thirty they were condemned +and executed; while two of them, Hugh M'Kail, a young minister, and +Neilson of Corsack, were tortured with the boots. + +The goods of those who perished were confiscated, and their bodies were +dismembered and distributed to different parts of the country; "the +heads of Major M'Culloch and the two Gordons," it was resolved, says +Kirkton, "should be pitched on the gate of Kirkcudbright; the two +Hamiltons and Strong's head should be affixed at Hamilton, and Captain +Arnot's sett on the Watter Gate at Edinburgh. The armes of all the ten, +because they hade with uplifted hands renewed the Covenant at Lanark, +were sent to the people of that town to expiate that crime, by placing +these arms on the top of the prison."[27] Among these was John Neilson, +the Laird of Corsack, who saved Turner's life at Dumfries; in return +for which service Sir James attempted, though without success, to get +the poor man reprieved. One of the condemned died of his wounds between +the day of condemnation and the day of execution. "None of them," says +Kirkton, "would save their life by taking the declaration and renouncing +the Covenant, though it was offered to them.... But never men died in +Scotland so much lamented by the people, not only spectators, but those +in the country. When Knockbreck and his brother were turned over, they +clasped each other in their armes, and so endured the pangs of death. +When Humphrey Colquhoun died, he spoke not like an ordinary citizen, but +like a heavenly minister, relating his comfortable Christian +experiences, and called for his Bible, and laid it on his wounded arm, +and read John iii. 8, and spoke upon it to the admiration of all. But +most of all, when Mr. M'Kail died, there was such a lamentation as was +never known in Scotland before; not one dry cheek upon all the street, +or in all the numberless windows in the mercate place." [28] + +The following passage from this speech speaks for itself and its author: + +"Hereafter I will not talk with flesh and blood, nor think on the +world's consolations. Farewell to all my friends, whose company hath +been refreshful to me in my pilgrimage. I have done with the light of +the sun and the moon; welcome eternal light, eternal life, everlasting +love, everlasting praise, everlasting glory. Praise to Him that sits +upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever! Bless the Lord, O my soul, +that hath pardoned all my iniquities in the blood of His Son, and healed +all my diseases. Bless Him, O all ye His angels that excel in strength, +ye ministers of His that do His pleasure. Bless the Lord, O my soul!" +[29] + +After having ascended the gallows ladder he again broke forth in the +following words of touching eloquence: + +"And now I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and begin my +intercourse with God, which shall never be broken off. Farewell father +and mother, friends and relations! Farewell the world and all delights! +Farewell meat and drink! Farewell sun, moon, and stars!--Welcome God and +Father! Welcome sweet Jesus Christ, the Mediator of the new covenant! +Welcome blessed Spirit of grace and God of all consolation! Welcome +glory! Welcome eternal life! Welcome Death!"[30] + +At Glasgow too, where some were executed, they caused the soldiers to +beat the drums and blow the trumpets on their closing ears. Hideous +refinement of revenge! Even the last words which drop from the lips of a +dying man--words surely the most sincere and the most unbiassed which +mortal mouth can utter--even these were looked upon as poisoned and as +poisonous. "Drown their last accents," was the cry, "lest they should +lead the crowd to take their part, or at the least to mourn their +doom!"[31] But, after all, perhaps it was more merciful than one would +think--unintentionally so, of course; perhaps the storm of harsh and +fiercely jubilant noises, the clanging of trumpets, the rattling of +drums, and the hootings and jeerings of an unfeeling mob, which were the +last they heard on earth, might, when the mortal fight was over, when +the river of death was passed, add tenfold sweetness to the hymning of +the angels, tenfold peacefulness to the shores which they had reached. + +Not content with the cruelty of these executions, some even of the +peasantry, though these were confined to the shire of Mid-Lothian, +pursued, captured, plundered, and murdered the miserable fugitives who +fell in their way. One strange story have we of these times of blood and +persecution: Kirkton the historian and popular tradition tell us alike +of a flame which often would arise from the grave, in a moss near +Carnwath, of some of those poor rebels: of how it crept along the +ground; of how it covered the house of their murderer; and of how it +scared him with its lurid glare. + +Hear Daniel Defoe:[32] + +"If the poor people were by these insupportable violences made +desperate, and driven to all the extremities of a wild despair, who can +justly reflect on them when they read in the Word of God 'That +oppression makes a wise man mad'? And therefore were there no other +original of the insurrection known by the name of the Rising of +Pentland, it was nothing but what the intolerable oppressions of those +times might have justified to all the world, nature having dictated to +all people a right of defence when illegally and arbitrarily attacked in +a manner not justifiable either by laws of nature, the laws of God, or +the laws of the country." + +Bear this remonstrance of Defoe's in mind, and though it is the fashion +of the day to jeer and to mock, to execrate and to contemn, the noble +band of Covenanters,--though the bitter laugh at their old-world +religious views, the curl of the lip at their merits, and the chilling +silence on their bravery and their determination, are but too rife +through all society,--be charitable to what was evil and honest to what +was good about the Pentland insurgents, who fought for life and liberty, +for country and religion, on the 28th of November 1666, now just two +hundred years ago. + + EDINBURGH, 28_th November_ 1866. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [22] "Cloud of Witnesses," p. 389; Edin. 1765. + + [23] Kirkton, p. 247. + + [24] Kirkton, p. 254. + + [25] _Ibid._ p. 247. + + [26] _Ibid._ pp. 247, 248. + + [27] _Ibid._ p. 248. + + [28] Kirkton, p. 249. + + [29] "Naphtali," p. 205; Glasgow, 1721. + + [30] Wodrow, p. 59. + + [31] Kirkton, p. 246. + + [32] Defoe's "History of the Church of Scotland." + + + + +SKETCHES + + + + +SKETCHES + +I + +THE SATIRIST + + +My companion enjoyed a cheap reputation for wit and insight. He was by +habit and repute a satirist. If he did occasionally condemn anything or +anybody who richly deserved it, and whose demerits had hitherto escaped, +it was simply because he condemned everything and everybody. While I was +with him he disposed of St. Paul with an epigram, shook my reverence for +Shakespeare in a neat antithesis, and fell foul of the Almighty Himself, +on the score of one or two out of the ten commandments. Nothing escaped +his blighting censure. At every sentence he overthrew an idol, or +lowered my estimation of a friend. I saw everything with new eyes, and +could only marvel at my former blindness. How was it possible that I had +not before observed A's false hair, B's selfishness, or C's boorish +manners? I and my companion, methought, walked the streets like a couple +of gods among a swarm of vermin; for every one we saw seemed to bear +openly upon his brow the mark of the apocalyptic beast. I half expected +that these miserable beings, like the people of Lystra, would recognise +their betters and force us to the altar; in which case, warned by the +fate of Paul and Barnabas, I do not know that my modesty would have +prevailed upon me to decline. But there was no need for such churlish +virtue. More blinded than the Lycaonians, the people saw no divinity in +our gait; and as our temporary godhead lay more in the way of observing +than healing their infirmities, we were content to pass them by in +scorn. + +I could not leave my companion, not from regard or even from interest, +but from a very natural feeling, inseparable from the case. To +understand it, let us take a simile. Suppose yourself walking down the +street with a man who continues to sprinkle the crowd out of a flask of +vitriol. You would be much diverted with the grimaces and contortions of +his victims; and at the same time you would fear to leave his arm until +his bottle was empty, knowing that, when once among the crowd, you would +run a good chance yourself of baptism with his biting liquor. Now my +companion's vitriol was inexhaustible. + +It was perhaps the consciousness of this, the knowledge that I was being +anointed already out of the vials of his wrath, that made me fall to +criticising the critic, whenever we had parted. + +After all, I thought, our satirist has just gone far enough into his +neighbours to find that the outside is false, without caring to go +farther and discover what is really true. He is content to find that +things are not what they seem, and broadly generalises from it that they +do not exist at all. He sees our virtues are not what they pretend they +are; and, on the strength of that, he denies us the possession of virtue +altogether. He has learnt the first lesson, that no man is wholly good; +but he has not even suspected that there is another equally true, to +wit, that no man is wholly bad. Like the inmate of a coloured star, he +has eyes for one colour alone. He has a keen scent after evil, but his +nostrils are plugged against all good, as people plugged their nostrils +before going about the streets of the plague-struck city. + +Why does he do this? It is most unreasonable to flee the knowledge of +good like the infection of a horrible disease, and batten and grow fat +in the real atmosphere of a lazar-house. This was my first thought; but +my second was not like unto it, and I saw that our satirist was wise, +wise in his generation, like the unjust steward. He does not want +light, because the darkness is more pleasant. He does not wish to see +the good, because he is happier without it. I recollect that when I +walked with him, I was in a state of divine exaltation, such as Adam and +Eve must have enjoyed when the savour of the fruit was still unfaded +between their lips; and I recognise that this must be the man's habitual +state. He has the forbidden fruit in his waistcoat pocket, and can make +himself a god as often and as long as he likes. He has raised himself +upon a glorious pedestal above his fellows; he has touched the summit of +ambition; and he envies neither King nor Kaiser, Prophet nor Priest, +content in an elevation as high as theirs, and much more easily +attained. Yes, certes, much more easily attained. He has not risen by +climbing himself, but by pushing others down. He has grown great in his +own estimation, not by blowing himself out, and risking the fate of +Aesop's frog, but simply by the habitual use of a diminishing glass on +everybody else. And I think altogether that his is a better, a safer, +and a surer recipe than most others. + +After all, however, looking back on what I have written, I detect a +spirit suspiciously like his own. All through, I have been comparing +myself with our satirist, and all through, I have had the best of the +comparison. Well, well, contagion is as often mental as physical; and I +do not think my readers, who have all been under his lash, will blame me +very much for giving the headsman a mouthful of his own sawdust. + + + + +II + +NUITS BLANCHES + + +If any one should know the pleasure and pain of a sleepless night, it +should be I. I remember, so long ago, the sickly child that woke from +his few hours' slumber with the sweat of a nightmare on his brow, to lie +awake and listen and long for the first signs of life among the silent +streets. These nights of pain and weariness are graven on my mind; and +so when the same thing happened to me again, everything that I heard or +saw was rather a recollection than a discovery. + +Weighed upon by the opaque and almost sensible darkness, I listened +eagerly for anything to break the sepulchral quiet. But nothing came, +save, perhaps, an emphatic crack from the old cabinet that was made by +Deacon Brodie, or the dry rustle of the coals on the extinguished fire. +It was a calm; or I know that I should have heard in the roar and +clatter of the storm, as I have not heard it for so many years, the wild +career of a horseman, always scouring up from the distance and passing +swiftly below the window; yet always returning again from the place +whence first he came, as though, baffled by some higher power, he had +retraced his steps to gain impetus for another and another attempt. + +As I lay there, there arose out of the utter stillness the rumbling of a +carriage a very great way off, that drew near, and passed within a few +streets of the house, and died away as gradually as it had arisen. This, +too, was as a reminiscence. + +I rose and lifted a corner of the blind. Over the black belt of the +garden I saw the long line of Queen Street, with here and there a +lighted window. How often before had my nurse lifted me out of bed and +pointed them out to me, while we wondered together if, there also, there +were children that could not sleep, and if these lighted oblongs were +signs of those that waited like us for the morning. + +I went out into the lobby, and looked down into the great deep well of +the staircase. For what cause I know not, just as it used to be in the +old days that the feverish child might be the better served, a peep of +gas illuminated a narrow circle far below me. But where I was, all was +darkness and silence, save the dry monotonous ticking of the clock that +came ceaselessly up to my ear. + +The final crown of it all, however, the last touch of reproduction on +the pictures of my memory, was the arrival of that time for which, all +night through, I waited and longed of old. It was my custom, as the +hours dragged on, to repeat the question, "When will the carts come in?" +and repeat it again and again until at last those sounds arose in the +street that I have heard once more this morning. The road before our +house is a great thoroughfare for early carts. I know not, and I never +have known, what they carry, whence they come, or whither they go. But I +know that, long ere dawn, and for hours together, they stream +continuously past, with the same rolling and jerking of wheels and the +same clink of horses' feet. It was not for nothing that they made the +burthen of my wishes all night through. They are really the first +throbbings of life, the harbingers of day; and it pleases you as much to +hear them as it must please a shipwrecked seaman once again to grasp a +hand of flesh and blood after years of miserable solitude. They have the +freshness of the daylight life about them. You can hear the carters +cracking their whips and crying hoarsely to their horses or to one +another; and sometimes even a peal of healthy, harsh horse-laughter +comes up to you through the darkness. There is now an end of mystery and +fear. Like the knocking at the door in _Macbeth_,[33] or the cry of the +watchman in the _Tour de Nesle_, they show that the horrible caesura is +over and the nightmares have fled away, because the day is breaking and +the ordinary life of men is beginning to bestir itself among the +streets. + +In the middle of it all I fell asleep, to be wakened by the officious +knocking at my door, and I find myself twelve years older than I had +dreamed myself all night. + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [33] See a short essay of De Quincey's. + + + + +III + +THE WREATH OF IMMORTELLES + + +It is all very well to talk of death as "a pleasant potion of +immortality"; but the most of us, I suspect, are of "queasy stomachs," +and find it none of the sweetest.[34] The graveyard may be cloak-room to +Heaven; but we must admit that it is a very ugly and offensive vestibule +in itself, however fair may be the life to which it leads. And though +Enoch and Elias went into the temple through a gate which certainly may +be called Beautiful, the rest of us have to find our way to it through +Ezekiel's low-bowed door and the vault full of creeping things and all +manner of abominable beasts. Nevertheless, there is a certain frame of +mind to which a cemetery is, if not an antidote, at least an +alleviation. If you are in a fit of the blues, go nowhere else. It was +in obedience to this wise regulation that the other morning found me +lighting my pipe at the entrance to Old Greyfriars', thoroughly sick of +the town, the country, and myself. + +Two of the men were talking at the gate, one of them carrying a spade in +hands still crusted with the soil of graves. Their very aspect was +delightful to me; and I crept nearer to them, thinking to pick up some +snatch of sexton gossip, some "talk fit for a charnel,"[35] something, +in fine, worthy of that fastidious logician, that adept in coroner's +law, who has come down to us as the patron of Yaughan's liquor, and the +very prince of gravediggers. Scots people in general are so much wrapped +up in their profession that I had a good chance of overhearing such +conversation: the talk of fishmongers running usually on stockfish and +haddocks; while of the Scots sexton I could repeat stories and speeches +that positively smell of the graveyard. But on this occasion I was +doomed to disappointment. My two friends were far into the region of +generalities. Their profession was forgotten in their electorship. +Politics had engulfed the narrower economy of gravedigging. "Na, na," +said the one, "ye're a' wrang." "The English and Irish Churches," +answered the other, in a tone as if he had made the remark before, and +it had been called in question--"The English and Irish Churches have +_impoverished_ the country." + +"Such are the results of education," thought I as I passed beside them +and came fairly among the tombs. Here, at least, there were no +commonplace politics, no diluted this-morning's leader, to distract or +offend me. The old shabby church showed, as usual, its quaint extent of +roofage and the relievo skeleton on one gable, still blackened with the +fire of thirty years ago. A chill dank mist lay over all. The Old +Greyfriars' churchyard was in perfection that morning, and one could go +round and reckon up the associations with no fear of vulgar +interruption. On this stone the Covenant was signed. In that vault, as +the story goes, John Knox took hiding in some Reformation broil. From +that window Burke the murderer looked out many a time across the tombs, +and perhaps o' nights let himself down over the sill to rob some +new-made grave. Certainly he would have a selection here. The very walks +have been carried over forgotten resting-places; and the whole ground is +uneven, because (as I was once quaintly told) "when the wood rots it +stands to reason the soil should fall in," which, from the law of +gravitation, is certainly beyond denial. But it is round the boundary +that there are the finest tombs. The whole irregular space is, as it +were, fringed with quaint old monuments, rich in death's-heads and +scythes and hour-glasses, and doubly rich in pious epitaphs and Latin +mottoes--rich in them to such an extent that their proper space has run +over, and they have crawled end-long up the shafts of columns and +ensconced themselves in all sorts of odd corners among the sculpture. +These tombs raise their backs against the rabble of squalid +dwelling-houses, and every here and there a clothes-pole projects +between two monuments its fluttering trophy of white and yellow and red. +With a grim irony they recall the banners in the Invalides, banners as +appropriate perhaps over the sepulchres of tailors and weavers as these +others above the dust of armies. Why they put things out to dry on that +particular morning it was hard to imagine. The grass was grey with drops +of rain, the headstones black with moisture. Yet, in despite of weather +and common-sense, there they hung between the tombs; and beyond them I +could see through open windows into miserable rooms where whole families +were born and fed, and slept and died. At one a girl sat singing merrily +with her back to the graveyard; and from another came the shrill tones +of a scolding woman. Every here and there was a town garden full of +sickly flowers, or a pile of crockery inside upon the window-seat. But +you do not grasp the full connection between these houses of the dead +and the living, the unnatural marriage of stately sepulchres and squalid +houses, till, lower down, where the road has sunk far below the surface +of the cemetery, and the very roofs are scarcely on a level with its +wall, you observe that a proprietor has taken advantage of a tall +monument and trained a chimney-stack against its back. It startles you +to see the red, modern pots peering over the shoulder of the tomb. + +A man was at work on a grave, his spade clinking away the drift of bones +that permeates the thin brown soil; but my first disappointment had +taught me to expect little from Greyfriars' sextons, and I passed him by +in silence. A slater on the slope of a neighbouring roof eyed me +curiously. A lean black cat, looking as if it had battened on strange +meats, slipped past me. A little boy at a window put his finger to his +nose in so offensive a manner that I was put upon my dignity, and turned +grandly off to read old epitaphs and peer through the gratings into the +shadow of vaults. + +Just then I saw two women coming down a path, one of them old, and the +other younger, with a child in her arms. Both had faces eaten with +famine and hardened with sin, and both had reached that stage of +degradation, much lower in a woman than a man, when all care for dress +is lost. As they came down they neared a grave, where some pious friend +or relative had laid a wreath of immortelles, and put a bell glass over +it, as is the custom. The effect of that ring of dull yellow among so +many blackened and dusty sculptures was more pleasant than it is in +modern cemeteries, where every second mound can boast a similar coronal; +and here, where it was the exception and not the rule, I could even +fancy the drops of moisture that dimmed the covering were the tears of +those who laid it where it was. As the two women came up to it, one of +them kneeled down on the wet grass and looked long and silently through +the clouded shade, while the second stood above her, gently oscillating +to and fro to lull the muling baby. I was struck a great way off with +something religious in the attitude of these two unkempt and haggard +women; and I drew near faster, but still cautiously, to hear what they +were saying. Surely on them the spirit of death and decay had descended; +I had no education to dread here: should I not have a chance of seeing +nature? Alas! a pawnbroker could not have been more practical and +commonplace, for this was what the kneeling woman said to the woman +upright--this and nothing more: "Eh, what extravagance!" + +O nineteenth century, wonderful art thou indeed--wonderful, but +wearisome in thy stale and deadly uniformity. Thy men are more like +numerals than men. They must bear their idiosyncrasies or their +professions written on a placard about their neck, like the scenery in +Shakespeare's theatre. The precepts of economy have pierced into the +lowest ranks of life; and there is now a decorum in vice, a +respectability among the disreputable, a pure spirit of Philistinism +among the waifs and strays of thy Bohemia. For lo! thy very gravediggers +talk politics; and thy castaways kneel upon new graves, to discuss the +cost of the monument and grumble at the improvidence of love. + +Such was the elegant apostrophe that I made as I went out of the gates +again, happily satisfied in myself, and feeling that I alone of all whom +I had seen was able to profit by the silent poem of these green mounds +and blackened headstones. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [34] "Religio Medici," Part ii. + + [35] "Duchess of Malfi." + + + + +IV + +NURSES + + +I knew one once, and the room where, lonely and old, she waited for +death. It was pleasant enough, high up above the lane, and looking forth +upon a hill-side, covered all day with sheets and yellow blankets, and +with long lines of underclothing fluttering between the battered posts. +There were any number of cheap prints, and a drawing by one of "her +children," and there were flowers in the window, and a sickly canary +withered into consumption in an ornamental cage. The bed, with its +checked coverlid, was in a closet. A great Bible lay on the table; and +her drawers were full of "scones," which it was her pleasure to give to +young visitors such as I was then. + +You may not think this a melancholy picture; but the canary, and the +cat, and the white mouse that she had for a while, and that died, were +all indications of the want that ate into her heart. I think I know a +little of what that old woman felt; and I am as sure as if I had seen +her, that she sat many an hour in silent tears, with the big Bible open +before her clouded eyes. + +If you could look back upon her life, and feel the great chain that had +linked her to one child after another, sometimes to be wrenched suddenly +through, and sometimes, which is infinitely worse, to be torn gradually +off through years of growing neglect, or perhaps growing dislike! She +had, like the mother, overcome that natural repugnance--repugnance which +no man can conquer--towards the infirm and helpless mass of putty of the +earlier stage. She had spent her best and happiest years in tending, +watching, and learning to love like a mother this child, with which she +has no connection and to which she has no tie. Perhaps she refused some +sweetheart (such things have been), or put him off and off, until he +lost heart and turned to some one else, all for fear of leaving this +creature that had wound itself about her heart. And the end of it +all,--her month's warning, and a present perhaps, and the rest of the +life to vain regret. Or, worse still, to see the child gradually +forgetting and forsaking her, fostered in disrespect and neglect on the +plea of growing manliness, and at last beginning to treat her as a +servant whom he had treated a few years before as a mother. She sees the +Bible or the Psalm-book, which with gladness and love unutterable in her +heart she had bought for him years ago out of her slender savings, +neglected for some newer gift of his father, lying in dust in the +lumber-room or given away to a poor child, and the act applauded for its +unfeeling charity. Little wonder if she becomes hurt and angry, and +attempts to tyrannise and to grasp her old power back again. We are not +all patient Grizzels, by good fortune, but the most of us human beings +with feelings and tempers of our own. + +And so in the end, behold her in the room that I described. Very likely +and very naturally, in some fling of feverish misery or recoil of +thwarted love, she has quarrelled with her old employers and the +children are forbidden to see her or to speak to her; or at best she +gets her rent paid and a little to herself, and now and then her late +charges are sent up (with another nurse, perhaps) to pay her a short +visit. How bright these visits seem as she looks forward to them on her +lonely bed! How unsatisfactory their realisation, when the forgetful +child, half wondering, checks with every word and action the outpouring +of her maternal love! How bitter and restless the memories that they +leave behind! And for the rest, what else has she?--to watch them with +eager eyes as they go to school, to sit in church where she can see them +every Sunday, to be passed some day unnoticed in the street, or +deliberately cut because the great man or the great woman are with +friends before whom they are ashamed to recognise the old woman that +loved them. + +When she goes home that night, how lonely will the room appear to her! +Perhaps the neighbours may hear her sobbing to herself in the dark, with +the fire burnt out for want of fuel, and the candle still unlit upon the +table. + +And it is for this that they live, these quasi-mothers--mothers in +everything but the travail and the thanks. It is for this that they have +remained virtuous in youth, living the dull life of a household servant. +It is for this that they refused the old sweetheart, and have no +fireside or offspring of their own. + +I believe in a better state of things, that there will be no more +nurses, and that every mother will nurse her own offspring; for what can +be more hardening and demoralising than to call forth the tenderest +feelings of a woman's heart and cherish them yourself as long as you +need them, as long as your children require a nurse to love them, and +then to blight and thwart and destroy them, whenever your own use for +them is at an end? This may be Utopian; but it is always a little thing +if one mother or two mothers can be brought to feel more tenderly to +those who share their toil and have no part in their reward. + + + + +V + +A CHARACTER + + +The man has a red, bloated face, and his figure is short and squat. So +far there is nothing in him to notice, but when you see his eyes, you +can read in these hard and shallow orbs a depravity beyond measure +depraved, a thirst after wickedness, the pure, disinterested love of +Hell for its own sake. The other night, in the street, I was watching an +omnibus passing with lit-up windows, when I heard some one coughing at +my side as though he would cough his soul out; and turning round, I saw +him stopping under a lamp, with a brown greatcoat buttoned round him and +his whole face convulsed. It seemed as if he could not live long; and so +the sight set my mind upon a train of thought, as I finished my cigar up +and down the lighted streets. + +He is old, but all these years have not yet quenched his thirst for +evil, and his eyes still delight themselves in wickedness. He is dumb; +but he will not let that hinder his foul trade, or perhaps I should say, +his yet fouler amusement, and he has pressed a slate into the service of +corruption. Look at him, and he will sign to you with his bloated head, +and when you go to him in answer to the sign, thinking perhaps that the +poor dumb man has lost his way, you will see what he writes upon his +slate. He haunts the doors of schools, and shows such inscriptions as +these to the innocent children that come out. He hangs about +picture-galleries, and makes the noblest pictures the text for some +silent homily of vice. His industry is a lesson to ourselves. Is it not +wonderful how he can triumph over his infirmities and do such an amount +of harm without a tongue? Wonderful industry--strange, fruitless, +pleasureless toil? Must not the very devil feel a soft emotion to see +his disinterested and laborious service? Ah, but the devil knows better +than this: he knows that this man is penetrated with the love of evil +and that all his pleasure is shut up in wickedness: he recognises him, +perhaps, as a fit type for mankind of his satanic self, and watches over +his effigy as we might watch over a favourite likeness. As the business +man comes to love the toil, which he only looked upon at first as a +ladder towards other desires and less unnatural gratifications, so the +dumb man has felt the charm of his trade and fallen captivated before +the eyes of sin. It is a mistake when preachers tell us that vice is +hideous and loathsome; for even vice has her Hoersel and her devotees, +who love her for her own sake. + + + + +COLLEGE PAPERS + + + + +COLLEGE PAPERS + +I + +EDINBURGH STUDENTS IN 1824 + + +On the 2nd of January 1824 was issued the prospectus of the _Lapsus +Linguae; or, the College Tatler_; and on the 7th the first number +appeared. On Friday the 2nd of April "_Mr. Tatler_ became speechless." +Its history was not all one success; for the editor (who applies to +himself the words of Iago, "I am nothing if I am not critical") +over-stepped the bounds of caution, and found himself seriously +embroiled with the powers that were. There appeared in No. XVI. a most +bitter satire upon Sir John Leslie, in which he was compared to +Falstaff, charged with puffing himself, and very prettily censured for +publishing only the first volume of a class-book, and making all +purchasers pay for both. Sir John Leslie took up the matter angrily, +visited Carfrae the publisher, and threatened him with an action, till +he was forced to turn the hapless _Lapsus_ out of doors. The maltreated +periodical found shelter in the shop of Huie, Infirmary Street; and NO. +XVII. was duly issued from the new office. NO. XVII. beheld _Mr. +Tatler's_ humiliation, in which, with fulsome apology and not very +credible assurances of respect and admiration, he disclaims the article +in question, and advertises a new issue of NO. XVI. with all +objectionable matter omitted. This, with pleasing euphemism, he terms in +a later advertisement, "a new and improved edition." This was the only +remarkable adventure of _Mr. Tatler's_ brief existence; unless we +consider as such a silly Chaldee manuscript in imitation of +_Blackwood_, and a letter of reproof from a divinity student on the +impiety of the same dull effusion. He laments the near approach of his +end in pathetic terms. "How shall we summon up sufficient courage," says +he, "to look for the last time on our beloved little devil and his +inestimable proof-sheet? How shall we be able to pass No. 14 Infirmary +Street and feel that all its attractions are over? How shall we bid +farewell for ever to that excellent man, with the long greatcoat, wooden +leg and wooden board, who acts as our representative at the gate of +_Alma Mater?_" But alas! he had no choice: _Mr. Tatler_, whose career, +he says himself, had been successful, passed peacefully away, and has +ever since dumbly implored "the bringing home of bell and burial." + +_Alter et idem_. A very different affair was the _Lapsus Linguae_ from +the _Edinburgh University Magazine_. The two prospectuses alone, laid +side by side, would indicate the march of luxury and the repeal of the +paper duty. The penny bi-weekly broadside of session 1823-4 was almost +wholly dedicated to Momus. Epigrams, pointless letters, amorous verses, +and University grievances are the continual burthen of the song. But +_Mr. Tatler_ was not without a vein of hearty humour; and his pages +afford what is much better: to wit, a good picture of student life as it +then was. The students of those polite days insisted on retaining their +hats in the class-room. There was a cab-stance in front of the College; +and "Carriage Entrance" was posted above the main arch, on what the +writer pleases to call "coarse, unclassic boards." The benches of the +"Speculative" then, as now, were red; but all other Societies (the +"Dialectic" is the only survivor) met downstairs, in some rooms of which +it is pointedly said that "nothing else could conveniently be made of +them." However horrible these dungeons may have been, it is certain that +they were paid for, and that far too heavily for the taste of session +1823-4, which found enough calls upon its purse for porter and toasted +cheese at Ambrose's, or cranberry tarts and ginger-wine at Doull's. +Duelling was still a possibility; so much so that when two medicals fell +to fisticuffs in Adam Square, it was seriously hinted that single combat +would be the result. Last and most wonderful of all, Gall and Spurzheim +were in every one's mouth; and the Law student, after having exhausted +Byron's poetry and Scott's novels, informed the ladies of his belief in +phrenology. In the present day he would dilate on "Red as a rose is +she," and then mention that he attends Old Greyfriars', as a tacit claim +to intellectual superiority. I do not know that the advance is much. + +But _Mr. Tatler's_ best performances were three short papers in which he +hit off pretty smartly the idiosyncrasies of the "_Divinity_," the +"_Medical_," and the "_Law_" of session 1823-4. The fact that there was +no notice of the "_Arts_" seems to suggest that they stood in the same +intermediate position as they do now--the epitome of student-kind. _Mr. +Tatler's_ satire is, on the whole, good-humoured, and has not grown +superannuated in _all_ its limbs. His descriptions may limp at some +points, but there are certain broad traits that apply equally well to +session 1870-71. He shows us the _Divinity_ of the period--tall, pale, +and slender--his collar greasy, and his coat bare about the seams--"his +white neckcloth serving four days, and regularly turned the +third,"--"the rim of his hat deficient in wool,"--and "a weighty volume +of theology under his arm." He was the man to buy cheap "a snuff-box, or +a dozen of pencils, or a six-bladed knife, or a quarter of a hundred +quills," at any of the public sale-rooms. He was noted for cheap +purchases, and for exceeding the legal tender in halfpence. He haunted +"the darkest and remotest corner of the Theatre Gallery." He was to be +seen issuing from "aerial lodging-houses." Withal, says mine author, +"there were many good points about him: he paid his landlady's bill, +read his Bible, went twice to church on Sunday, seldom swore, was not +often tipsy, and bought the _Lapsus Linguae_." + +The _Medical_, again, "wore a white greatcoat, and consequently talked +loud"--(there is something very delicious in that _consequently_). He +wore his hat on one side. He was active, volatile, and went to the top +of Arthur's Seat on the Sunday forenoon. He was as quiet in a debating +society as he was loud in the streets. He was reckless and imprudent: +yesterday he insisted on your sharing a bottle of claret with him (and +claret was claret then, before the cheap-and-nasty treaty), and +to-morrow he asks you for the loan of a penny to buy the last number of +the _Lapsus_. + +The student of _Law_, again, was a learned man. "He had turned over the +leaves of Justinian's 'Institutes,' and knew that they were written in +Latin. He was well acquainted with the title-page of 'Blackstone's +Commentaries,' and _argal_ (as the gravedigger in _Hamlet_ says) he was +not a person to be laughed at." He attended the Parliament House in the +character of a critic, and could give you stale sneers at all the +celebrated speakers. He was the terror of essayists at the Speculative +or the Forensic. In social qualities he seems to have stood unrivalled. +Even in the police-office we find him shining with undiminished lustre. +"If a _Charlie_ should find him rather noisy at an untimely hour, and +venture to take him into custody, he appears next morning like a Daniel +come to judgment. He opens his mouth to speak, and the divine precepts +of unchanging justice and Scots law flow from his tongue. The magistrate +listens in amazement, and fines him only a couple of guineas." + +Such then were our predecessors and their College Magazine. Barclay, +Ambrose, Young Amos, and Fergusson were to them what the Cafe, the +Rainbow, and Rutherford's are to us. An hour's reading in these old +pages absolutely confuses us, there is so much that is similar and so +much that is different; the follies and amusements are so like our own, +and the manner of frolicking and enjoying are so changed, that one +pauses and looks about him in philosophic judgment. The muddy quadrangle +is thick with living students; but in our eyes it swarms also with the +phantasmal white greatcoats and tilted hats of 1824. Two races meet: +races alike and diverse. Two performances are played before our eyes; +but the change seems merely of impersonators, of scenery, of costume. +Plot and passion are the same. It is the fall of the spun shilling +whether seventy-one or twenty-four has the best of it. + +In a future number we hope to give a glance at the individualities of +the present, and see whether the cast shall be head or tail--whether we +or the readers of the _Lapsus_ stand higher in the balance. + + + + +II + +THE MODERN STUDENT CONSIDERED GENERALLY + + +We have now reached the difficult portion of our task. _Mr. Tatler_, for +all that we care, may have been as virulent as he liked about the +students of a former day; but for the iron to touch our sacred selves, +for a brother of the Guild to betray its most privy infirmities, let +such a Judas look to himself as he passes on his way to the Scots Law or +the Diagnostic, below the solitary lamp at the corner of the dark +quadrangle. We confess that this idea alarms us. We enter a protest. We +bind ourselves over verbally to keep the peace. We hope, moreover, that +having thus made you secret to our misgivings, you will excuse us if we +be dull, and set that down to caution which you might before have +charged to the account of stupidity. + +The natural tendency of civilisation is to obliterate those distinctions +which are the best salt of life. All the fine old professional flavour +in language has evaporated. Your very gravedigger has forgotten his +avocation in his electorship, and would quibble on the Franchise over +Ophelia's grave, instead of more appropriately discussing the duration +of bodies under ground. From this tendency, from this gradual attrition +of life, in which everything pointed and characteristic is being rubbed +down, till the whole world begins to slip between our fingers in smooth +undistinguishable sands, from this, we say, it follows that we must not +attempt to join _Mr. Tatler_ in his simple division of students into +_Law_, _Divinity_, and _Medical_. Nowadays the Faculties may shake hands +over their follies; and, like Mrs. Frail and Mrs. Foresight (in _Love +for Love_) they may stand in the doors of opposite class-rooms, crying: +"Sister, Sister--Sister everyway!" A few restrictions, indeed, remain to +influence the followers of individual branches of study. The _Divinity_, +for example, must be an avowed believer; and as this, in the present +day, is unhappily considered by many as a confession of weakness, he is +fain to choose one of two ways of gilding the distasteful orthodox +bolus. Some swallow it in a thin jelly of metaphysics; for it is even a +credit to believe in God on the evidence of some crack-jaw philosopher, +although it is a decided slur to believe in Him on His own authority. +Others again (and this we think the worst method), finding German +grammar a somewhat dry morsel, run their own little heresy as a proof of +independence; and deny one of the cardinal doctrines that they may hold +the others without being laughed at. + +Besides, however, such influences as these, there is little more +distinction between the faculties than the traditionary ideal, handed +down through a long sequence of students, and getting rounder and more +featureless at each successive session. The plague of uniformity has +descended on the College. Students (and indeed all sorts and conditions +of men) now require their faculty and character hung round their neck on +a placard, like the scenes in Shakespeare's theatre. And in the midst of +all this weary sameness, not the least common feature is the gravity of +every face. No more does the merry medical run eagerly in the clear +winter morning up the rugged sides of Arthur's Seat, and hear the church +bells begin and thicken and die away below him among the gathered smoke +of the city. He will not break Sunday to so little purpose. He no longer +finds pleasure in the mere output of his surplus energy. He husbands his +strength, and lays out walks, and reading, and amusement with deep +consideration, so that he may get as much work and pleasure out of his +body as he can, and waste none of his energy on mere impulse, or such +flat enjoyment as an excursion in the country. + +See the quadrangle in the interregnum of classes, in those two or three +minutes when it is full of passing students, and we think you will admit +that, if we have not made it "an habitation of dragons," we have at +least transformed it into "a court for owls." Solemnity broods heavily +over the enclosure; and wherever you seek it, you will find a dearth of +merriment, an absence of real youthful enjoyment. You might as well try + + "To move wild laughter in the throat of death" + +as to excite any healthy stir among the bulk of this staid company. + +The studious congregate about the doors of the different classes, +debating the matter of the lecture, or comparing note-books. A reserved +rivalry sunders them. Here are some deep in Greek particles: there, +others are already inhabitants of that land + + "Where entity and quiddity, + Like ghosts of defunct bodies fly-- + Where Truth in person does appear + Like words congealed in northern air." + +But none of them seem to find any relish for their studies--no pedantic +love of this subject or that lights up their eyes--science and learning +are only means for a livelihood, which they have considerately embraced +and which they solemnly pursue. "Labour's pale priests," their lips seem +incapable of laughter, except in the way of polite recognition of +professorial wit. The stains of ink are chronic on their meagre fingers. +They walk like Saul among the asses. + +The dandies are not less subdued. In 1824 there was a noisy dapper +dandyism abroad. Vulgar, as we should now think, but yet genial--a +matter of white greatcoats and loud voices--strangely different from the +stately frippery that is rife at present. These men are out of their +element in the quadrangle. Even the small remains of boisterous humour, +which still clings to any collection of young men, jars painfully on +their morbid sensibilities; and they beat a hasty retreat to resume +their perfunctory march along Princes Street. Flirtation is to them a +great social duty, a painful obligation, which they perform on every +occasion in the same chill official manner, and with the same +commonplace advances, the same dogged observance of traditional +behaviour. The shape of their raiment is a burden almost greater than +they can bear, and they halt in their walk to preserve the due +adjustment of their trouser-knees, till one would fancy he had mixed in +a procession of Jacobs. We speak, of course, for ourselves; but we would +as soon associate with a herd of sprightly apes as with these gloomy +modern beaux. Alas, that our Mirabels, our Valentines, even our +Brummels, should have left their mantles upon nothing more amusing! + +Nor are the fast men less constrained. Solemnity, even in dissipation, +is the order of the day; and they go to the devil with a perverse +seriousness, a systematic rationalism of wickedness that would have +surprised the simpler sinners of old. Some of these men whom we see +gravely conversing on the steps have but a slender acquaintance with +each other. Their intercourse consists principally of mutual bulletins +of depravity; and, week after week, as they meet they reckon up their +items of transgression, and give an abstract of their downward progress +for approval and encouragement. These folk form a freemasonry of their +own. An oath is the shibboleth of their sinister fellowship. Once they +hear a man swear, it is wonderful how their tongues loosen and their +bashful spirits take enlargement under the consciousness of brotherhood. +There is no folly, no pardoning warmth of temper about them; they are as +steady-going and systematic in their own way as the studious in theirs. + +Not that we are without merry men. No. We shall not be ungrateful to +those, whose grimaces, whose ironical laughter, whose active feet in the +"College Anthem" have beguiled so many weary hours and added a pleasant +variety to the strain of close attention. But even these are too +evidently professional in their antics. They go about cogitating puns +and inventing tricks. It is their vocation, Hal. They are the gratuitous +jesters of the class-room; and, like the clown when he leaves the stage, +their merriment too often sinks as the bell rings the hour of liberty, +and they pass forth by the Post-Office, grave and sedate, and meditating +fresh gambols for the morrow. + +This is the impression left on the mind of any observing student by too +many of his fellows. They seem all frigid old men; and one pauses to +think how such an unnatural state of matters is produced. We feel +inclined to blame for it the unfortunate absence of _University feeling_ +which is so marked a characteristic of our Edinburgh students. +Academical interests are so few and far between--students, as students, +have so little in common, except a peevish rivalry--there is such an +entire want of broad college sympathies and ordinary college +friendships, that we fancy that no University in the kingdom is in so +poor a plight. Our system is full of anomalies. A, who cut B whilst he +was a shabby student, curries sedulously up to him and cudgels his +memory for anecdotes about him when he becomes the great so-and-so. Let +there be an end of this shy, proud reserve on the one hand, and this +shuddering fine ladyism on the other; and we think we shall find both +ourselves and the College bettered. Let it be a sufficient reason for +intercourse that two men sit together on the same benches. Let the great +A be held excused for nodding to the shabby B in Princes Street, if he +can say, "That fellow is a student." Once this could be brought about, +we think you would find the whole heart of the University beat faster. +We think you would find a fusion among the students, a growth of common +feelings, an increasing sympathy between class and class, whose +influence (in such a heterogeneous company as ours) might be of +incalculable value in all branches of politics and social progress. It +would do more than this. If we could find some method of making the +University a real mother to her sons--something beyond a building of +class-rooms, a Senatus and a lottery of somewhat shabby prizes--we +should strike a death-blow at the constrained and unnatural attitude of +our Society. At present we are not a united body, but a loose gathering +of individuals, whose inherent attraction is allowed to condense them +into little knots and coteries. Our last snowball riot read us a plain +lesson on our condition. There was no party spirit--no unity of +interests. A few, who were mischievously inclined, marched off to the +College of Surgeons in a pretentious file; but even before they reached +their destination the feeble inspiration had died out in many, and their +numbers were sadly thinned. Some followed strange gods in the direction +of Drummond Street, and others slunk back to meek good-boyism at the +feet of the Professors. The same is visible in better things. As you +send a man to an English University that he may have his prejudices +rubbed off, you might send him to Edinburgh that he may have them +ingrained--rendered indelible--fostered by sympathy into living +principles of his spirit. And the reason of it is quite plain. From this +absence of University feeling it comes that a man's friendships are +always the direct and immediate results of these very prejudices. A +common weakness is the best master of ceremonies in our quadrangle: a +mutual vice is the readiest introduction. The studious associate with +the studious alone--the dandies with the dandies. There is nothing to +force them to rub shoulders with the others; and so they grow day by day +more wedded to their own original opinions and affections. They see +through the same spectacles continually. All broad sentiments, all real +catholic humanity expires; and the mind gets gradually stiffened into +one position--becomes so habituated to a contracted atmosphere, that it +shudders and withers under the least draught of the free air that +circulates in the general field of mankind. + +Specialism in Society then, is, we think, one cause of our present +state. Specialism in study is another. We doubt whether this has ever +been a good thing since the world began; but we are sure it is much +worse now than it was. Formerly, when a man became a specialist, it was +out of affection for his subject. With a somewhat grand devotion he left +all the world of Science to follow his true love; and he contrived to +find that strange pedantic interest which inspired the man who + + "Settled _Hoti's_ business--let it be-- + Properly based _Oun_-- + Gave us the doctrine of the enclitic _D_ + Dead from the waist down." + +Nowadays it is quite different. Our pedantry wants even the saving +clause of Enthusiasm. The election is now matter of necessity and not of +choice. Knowledge is now too broad a field for your Jack-of-all-Trades; +and, from beautifully utilitarian reasons, he makes his choice, draws +his pen through a dozen branches of study, and behold--John the +Specialist. That this is the way to be wealthy we shall not deny; but we +hold that it is _not_ the way to be healthy or wise. The whole mind +becomes narrowed and circumscribed to one "punctual spot" of knowledge. +A rank unhealthy soil breeds a harvest of prejudices. Feeling himself +above others in his one little branch--in the classification of +toadstools, or Carthaginian history--he waxes great in his own eyes and +looks down on others. Having all his sympathies educated in one way, +they die out in every other; and he is apt to remain a peevish, narrow, +and intolerant bigot. Dilettante is now a term of reproach; but there is +a certain form of dilettantism to which no one can object. It is this +that we want among our students. We wish them to abandon no subject +until they have seen and felt its merit--to act under a general interest +in all branches of knowledge, not a commercial eagerness to excel in +one. + +In both these directions our sympathies are constipated. We are apostles +of our own caste and our own subject of study, instead of being, as we +should, true men and _loving_ students. Of course both of these could be +corrected by the students themselves; but this is nothing to the +purpose: it is more important to ask whether the Senatus or the body of +alumni could do nothing towards the growth of better feeling and wider +sentiments. Perhaps in another paper we may say something upon this +head. + +One other word, however, before we have done. What shall we be when we +grow really old? Of yore, a man was thought to lay on restrictions and +acquire new deadweight of mournful experience with every year, till he +looked back on his youth as the very summer of impulse and freedom. We +please ourselves with thinking that it cannot be so with us. We would +fain hope that, as we have begun in one way, we may end in another; and +that when we _are_ in fact the octogenarians that we _seem_ at present, +there shall be no merrier men on earth. It is pleasant to picture us, +sunning ourselves in Princes Street of a morning, or chirping over our +evening cups, with all the merriment that we wanted in youth. + + + + +III + +DEBATING SOCIETIES + + +A debating society is at first somewhat of a disappointment. You do not +often find the youthful Demosthenes chewing his pebbles in the same room +with you; or, even if you do, you will probably think the performance +little to be admired. As a general rule, the members speak shamefully +ill. The subjects of debate are heavy; and so are the fines. The Ballot +Question--oldest of dialectic nightmares--is often found astride of a +somnolent sederunt. The Greeks and Romans, too, are reserved as sort of +_general-utility_ men, to do all the dirty work of illustration; and +they fill as many functions as the famous waterfall scene at the +"Princess's," which I found doing duty on one evening as a gorge in +Peru, a haunt of German robbers, and a peaceful vale in the Scottish +borders. There is a sad absence of striking argument or real lively +discussion. Indeed, you feel a growing contempt for your fellow-members; +and it is not until you rise yourself to hawk and hesitate and sit +shamefully down again, amid eleemosynary applause, that you begin to +find your level and value others rightly. Even then, even when failure +has damped your critical ardour, you will see many things to be laughed +at in the deportment of your rivals. + +Most laughable, perhaps, are your indefatigable strivers after +eloquence. They are of those who "pursue with eagerness the phantoms of +hope," and who, since they expect that "the deficiencies of last +sentence will be supplied by the next," have been recommended by Dr. +Samuel Johnson to "attend to the History of Rasselas, Prince of +Abyssinia." They are characterised by a hectic hopefulness. Nothing +damps them. They rise from the ruins of one abortive sentence, to launch +forth into another with unabated vigour. They have all the manner of an +orator. From the tone of their voice, you would expect a splendid +period--and lo! a string of broken-backed, disjointed clauses, eked out +with stammerings and throat-clearings. They possess the art (learned +from the pulpit) of rounding an uneuphonious sentence by dwelling on a +single syllable--of striking a balance in a top-heavy period by +lengthening out a word into a melancholy quaver. Withal, they never +cease to hope. Even at last, even when they have exhausted all their +ideas, even after the would-be peroration has finally refused to +perorate, they remain upon their feet with their mouths open, waiting +for some further inspiration, like Chaucer's widow's son in the +dung-hole, after + + "His throat was kit unto the nekke bone," + +in vain expectation of that seed that was to be laid upon his tongue, +and give him renewed and clearer utterance. + +These men may have something to say, if they could only say it--indeed +they generally have; but the next class are people who, having nothing +to say, are cursed with a facility and an unhappy command of words, that +makes them the prime nuisances of the society they affect. They try to +cover their absence of matter by an unwholesome vitality of delivery. +They look triumphantly round the room, as if courting applause, after a +torrent of diluted truism. They talk in a circle, harping on the same +dull round of argument, and returning again and again to the same remark +with the same sprightliness, the same irritating appearance of novelty. + +After this set, any one is tolerable; so we shall merely hint at a few +other varieties. There is your man who is pre-eminently conscientious, +whose face beams with sincerity as he opens on the negative, and who +votes on the affirmative at the end, looking round the room with an air +of chastened pride. There is also the irrelevant speaker, who rises, +emits a joke or two, and then sits down again, without ever attempting +to tackle the subject of debate. Again, we have men who ride +pick-a-back on their family reputation, or, if their family have none, +identify themselves with some well-known statesman, use his opinions, +and lend him their patronage on all occasions. This is a dangerous plan, +and serves oftener, I am afraid, to point a difference than to adorn a +speech. + +But alas! a striking failure may be reached without tempting Providence +by any of these ambitious tricks. Our own stature will be found high +enough for shame. The success of three simple sentences lures us into a +fatal parenthesis in the fourth, from whose shut brackets we may never +disentangle the thread of our discourse. A momentary flush tempts us +into a quotation; and we may be left helpless in the middle of one of +Pope's couplets, a white film gathering before our eyes, and our kind +friends charitably trying to cover our disgrace by a feeble round of +applause. _Amis lecteurs_, this is a painful topic. It is possible that +we too, we, the "potent, grave, and reverend" editor, may have suffered +these things, and drunk as deep as any of the cup of shameful failure. +Let us dwell no longer on so delicate a subject. + +In spite, however, of these disagreeables, I should recommend any +student to suffer them with Spartan courage, as the benefits he receives +should repay him an hundredfold for them all. The life of the debating +society is a handy antidote to the life of the class-room and +quadrangle. Nothing could be conceived more excellent as a weapon +against many of those _peccant humours_ that we have been railing +against in the jeremiad of our last "College Paper"--particularly in the +field of intellect. It is a sad sight to see our heather-scented +students, our boys of seventeen, coming up to College with determined +views--_roues_ in speculation--having gauged the vanity of philosophy or +learned to shun it as the middle-man of heresy--a company of determined, +deliberate opinionists, not to be moved by all the sleights of logic. +What have such men to do with study? If their minds are made up +irrevocably, why burn the "studious lamp" in search of further +confirmation? Every set opinion I hear a student deliver I feel a +certain lowering of my regard. He who studies, he who is yet employed in +groping for his premises, should keep his mind fluent and sensitive, +keen to mark flaws, and willing to surrender untenable positions. He +should keep himself teachable, or cease the expensive farce of being +taught. It is to further this docile spirit that we desire to press the +claims of debating societies. It is as a means of melting down this +museum of premature petrifactions into living and impressionable soul +that we insist on their utility. If we could once prevail on our +students to feel no shame in avowing an uncertain attitude towards any +subject, if we could teach them that it was unnecessary for every lad to +have his _opinionette_ on every topic, we should have gone a far way +towards bracing the intellectual tone of the coming race of thinkers; +and this it is which debating societies are so well fitted to perform. + +We there meet people of every shade of opinion, and make friends with +them. We are taught to rail against a man the whole session through, and +then hob-a-nob with him at the concluding entertainment. We find men of +talent far exceeding our own, whose conclusions are widely different +from ours; and we are thus taught to distrust ourselves. But the best +means of all towards catholicity is that wholesome rule which some folk +are most inclined to condemn,--I mean the law of _obliged speeches_. +Your senior member commands; and you must take the affirmative or the +negative, just as suits his best convenience. This tends to the most +perfect liberality. It is no good hearing the arguments of an opponent, +for in good verity you rarely follow them; and even if you do take the +trouble to listen, it is merely in a captious search for weaknesses. +This is proved, I fear, in every debate; when you hear each speaker +arguing out his own prepared _specialite_ (he never intended speaking, +of course, until some remarks of, etc.), arguing out, I say, his own +_coached-up_ subject without the least attention to what has gone +before, as utterly at sea about the drift of his adversary's speech as +Panurge when he argued with Thaumaste, and merely linking his own +prelection to the last by a few flippant criticisms. Now, as the rule +stands, you are saddled with the side you disapprove, and so you are +forced, by regard for your own fame, to argue out, to feel with, to +elaborate completely, the case as it stands against yourself; and what a +fund of wisdom do you not turn up in this idle digging of the vineyard! +How many new difficulties take form before your eyes? how many +superannuated arguments cripple finally into limbo, under the glance of +your enforced eclecticism! + +Nor is this the only merit of Debating Societies. They tend also to +foster taste, and to promote friendship between University men. This +last, as we have had occasion before to say, is the great requirement of +our student life; and it will therefore be no waste of time if we devote +a paragraph to this subject in its connection with Debating Societies. +At present they partake too much of the nature of a _clique._ Friends +propose friends, and mutual friends second them, until the society +degenerates into a sort of family party. You may confirm old +acquaintances, but you can rarely make new ones. You find yourself in +the atmosphere of your own daily intercourse. Now, this is an +unfortunate circumstance, which it seems to me might readily be +rectified. Our Principal has shown himself so friendly towards all +College improvements that I cherish the hope of seeing shortly realised +a certain suggestion, which is not a new one with me, and which must +often have been proposed and canvassed heretofore--I mean, a real +_University Debating Society_, patronised by the Senatus, presided over +by the Professors, to which every one might gain ready admittance on +sight of his matriculation ticket, where it would be a favour and not a +necessity to speak, and where the obscure student might have another +object for attendance besides the mere desire to save his fines: to wit, +the chance of drawing on himself the favourable consideration of his +teachers. This would be merely following in the good tendency, which +has been so noticeable during all this session, to increase and multiply +student societies and clubs of every sort. Nor would it be a matter of +much difficulty. The united societies would form a nucleus: one of the +class-rooms at first, and perhaps afterwards the great hall above the +library, might be the place of meeting. There would be no want of +attendance or enthusiasm, I am sure; for it is a very different thing to +speak under the bushel of a private club on the one hand, and, on the +other, in a public place, where a happy period or a subtle argument may +do the speaker permanent service in after life. Such a club might end, +perhaps, by rivalling the "Union" at Cambridge or the "Union" at Oxford. + + + + +IV + +THE PHILOSOPHY OF UMBRELLAS[36] + + +It is wonderful to think what a turn has been given to our whole Society +by the fact that we live under the sign of Aquarius,--that our climate +is essentially wet. A mere arbitrary distinction, like the +walking-swords of yore, might have remained the symbol of foresight and +respectability, had not the raw mists and dropping showers of our island +pointed the inclination of Society to another exponent of those virtues. +A ribbon of the Legion of Honour or a string of medals may prove a +person's courage; a title may prove his birth; a professorial chair his +study and acquirement; but it is the habitual carriage of the umbrella +that is the stamp of Respectability. The umbrella has become the +acknowledged index of social position. + +Robinson Crusoe presents us with a touching instance of the hankering +after them inherent in the civilised and educated mind. To the +superficial, the hot suns of Juan Fernandez may sufficiently account for +his quaint choice of a luxury; but surely one who had borne the hard +labour of a seaman under the tropics for all these years could have +supported an excursion after goats or a peaceful _constitutional_ arm in +arm with the nude Friday. No, it was not this: the memory of a vanished +respectability called for some outward manifestation, and the result +was--an umbrella. A pious castaway might have rigged up a belfry and +solaced his Sunday mornings with the mimicry of church-bells; but Crusoe +was rather a moralist than a pietist, and his leaf-umbrella is as fine +an example of the civilised mind striving to express itself under +adverse circumstances as we have ever met with. + +It is not for nothing, either, that the umbrella has become the very +foremost badge of modern civilisation--the Urim and Thummim of +respectability. Its pregnant symbolism has taken its rise in the most +natural manner. Consider, for a moment, when umbrellas were first +introduced into this country, what manner of men would use them, and +what class would adhere to the useless but ornamental cane. The first, +without doubt, would be the hypochondriacal, out of solicitude for their +health, or the frugal, out of care for their raiment; the second, it is +equally plain, would include the fop, the fool, and the Bobadil. Any one +acquainted with the growth of Society, and knowing out of what small +seeds of cause are produced great revolutions, and wholly new conditions +of intercourse, sees from this simple thought how the carriage of an +umbrella came to indicate frugality, judicious regard for bodily +welfare, and scorn for mere outward adornment, and, in one word, all +those homely and solid virtues implied in the term RESPECTABILITY. Not +that the umbrella's costliness has nothing to do with its great +influence. Its possession, besides symbolising (as we have already +indicated) the change from wild Esau to plain Jacob dwelling in tents, +implies a certain comfortable provision of fortune. It is not every one +that can expose twenty-six shillings' worth of property to so many +chances of loss and theft. So strongly do we feel on this point, indeed, +that we are almost inclined to consider all who possess really +well-conditioned umbrellas as worthy of the Franchise. They have a +qualification standing in their lobbies; they carry a sufficient stake +in the common-weal below their arm. One who bears with him an +umbrella--such a complicated structure of whalebone, of silk, and of +cane, that it becomes a very microcosm of modern industry--is +necessarily a man of peace. A half-crown cane may be applied to an +offender's head on a very moderate provocation; but a six-and-twenty +shilling silk is a possession too precious to be adventured in the shock +of war. + +These are but a few glances at how umbrellas (in the general) came to +their present high estate. But the true Umbrella-Philosopher meets with +far stranger applications as he goes about the streets. + +Umbrellas, like faces, acquire a certain sympathy with the individual +who carries them: indeed, they are far more capable of betraying his +trust; for whereas a face is given to us so far ready made, and all our +power over it is in frowning, and laughing, and grimacing, during the +first three or four decades of life, each umbrella is selected from a +whole shopful, as being most consonant to the purchaser's disposition. +An undoubted power of diagnosis rests with the practised +Umbrella-Philosopher. O you who lisp, and amble, and change the fashion +of your countenances--you who conceal all these, how little do you think +that you left a proof of your weakness in our umbrella-stand--that even +now, as you shake out the folds to meet the thickening snow, we read in +its ivory handle the outward and visible sign of your snobbery, or from +the exposed gingham of its cover detect, through coat and waistcoat, the +hidden hypocrisy of the "_dickey_"! But alas! even the umbrella is no +certain criterion. The falsity and the folly of the human race have +degraded that graceful symbol to the ends of dishonesty; and while some +umbrellas, from carelessness in selection, are not strikingly +characteristic (for it is only in what a man loves that he displays his +real nature), others, from certain prudential motives, are chosen +directly opposite to the person's disposition. A mendacious umbrella is +a sign of great moral degradation. Hypocrisy naturally shelters itself +below a silk; while the fast youth goes to visit his religious friends +armed with the decent and reputable gingham. May it not be said of the +bearers of these inappropriate umbrellas that they go about the streets +"with a lie in their right hand"? + +The kings of Siam, as we read, besides having a graduated social scale +of umbrellas (which was a good thing), prevented the great bulk of their +subjects from having any at all, which was certainly a bad thing. We +should be sorry to believe that this Eastern legislator was a fool--the +idea of an aristocracy of umbrellas is too philosophic to have +originated in a nobody,--and we have accordingly taken exceeding pains +to find out the reason of this harsh restriction. We think we have +succeeded; but, while admiring the principle at which he aimed, and +while cordially recognising in the Siamese potentate the only man before +ourselves who had taken a real grasp of the umbrella, we must be allowed +to point out how unphilosophically the great man acted in this +particular. His object, plainly, was to prevent any unworthy persons +from bearing the sacred symbol of domestic virtues. We cannot excuse his +limiting these virtues to the circle of his court. We must only remember +that such was the feeling of the age in which he lived. Liberalism had +not yet raised the war-cry of the working classes. But here was his +mistake: it was a needless regulation. Except in a very few cases of +hypocrisy joined to a powerful intellect, men, not by nature +_umbrellarians_, have tried again and again to become so by art, and yet +have failed--have expended their patrimony in the purchase of umbrella +after umbrella, and yet have systematically lost them, and have finally, +with contrite spirits and shrunken purses, given up their vain struggle, +and relied on theft and borrowing for the remainder of their lives. This +is the most remarkable fact that we have had occasion to notice; and yet +we challenge the candid reader to call it in question. Now, as there +cannot be any _moral selection_ in a mere dead piece of furniture--as +the umbrella cannot be supposed to have an affinity for individual men +equal and reciprocal to that which men certainly feel toward individual +umbrellas,--we took the trouble of consulting a scientific friend as to +whether there was any possible physical explanation of the phenomenon. +He was unable to supply a plausible theory, or even hypothesis; but we +extract from his letter the following interesting passage relative to +the physical peculiarities of umbrellas: "Not the least important, and +by far the most curious property of the umbrella, is the energy which it +displays in affecting the atmospheric strata. There is no fact in +meteorology better established--indeed, it is almost the only one on +which meteorologists are agreed--than that the carriage of an umbrella +produces desiccation of the air; while if it be left at home, aqueous +vapour is largely produced, and is soon deposited in the form of rain. +No theory," my friend continues, "competent to explain this hygrometric +law has been given (as far as I am aware) by Herschel, Dove, Glaisher, +Tait, Buchan, or any other writer; nor do I pretend to supply the +defect. I venture, however, to throw out the conjecture that it will be +ultimately found to belong to the same class of natural laws as that +agreeable to which a slice of toast always descends with the buttered +surface downwards." + +But it is time to draw to a close. We could expatiate much longer upon +this topic, but want of space constrains us to leave unfinished these +few desultory remarks--slender contributions towards a subject which has +fallen sadly backward, and which, we grieve to say, was better +understood by the king of Siam in 1686 than by all the philosophers of +to-day. If, however, we have awakened in any rational mind an interest +in the symbolism of umbrellas--in any generous heart a more complete +sympathy with the dumb companion of his daily walk,--or in any grasping +spirit a pure notion of respectability strong enough to make him expend +his six-and-twenty shillings--we shall have deserved well of the world, +to say nothing of the many industrious persons employed in the +manufacture of the article. + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [36] "This paper was written in collaboration with James Walter + Ferrier, and if reprinted this is to be stated, though his principal + collaboration was to lie back in an easy-chair and laugh."--[R. L. S., + _Oct_. 25, 1894.] + + + + +V + +THE PHILOSOPHY OF NOMENCLATURE + + "How many Caesars and Pompeys, by mere inspirations of the names, have + been rendered worthy of them? And how many are there, who might have + done exceeding well in the world, had not their characters and spirits + been totally depressed and Nicodemus'd into nothing?"--"Tristram + Shandy," vol. i. chap. xix. + + +Such were the views of the late Walter Shandy, Esq., Turkey merchant. To +the best of my belief, Mr. Shandy is the first who fairly pointed out +the incalculable influence of nomenclature upon the whole life--who +seems first to have recognised the one child, happy in an heroic +appellation, soaring upwards on the wings of fortune, and the other, +like the dead sailor in his shotted hammock, haled down by sheer weight +of name into the abysses of social failure. Solomon possibly had his eye +on some such theory when he said that "a good name is better than +precious ointment"; and perhaps we may trace a similar spirit in the +compilers of the English Catechism, and the affectionate interest with +which they linger round the catechumen's name at the very threshold of +their work. But, be these as they may, I think no one can censure me for +appending, in pursuance of the expressed wish of his son, the Turkey +merchant's name to his system, and pronouncing, without further +preface, a short epitome of the "Shandean Philosophy of Nomenclature." + +To begin, then: the influence of our name makes itself felt from the +very cradle. As a schoolboy I remember the pride with which I hailed +Robin Hood, Robert Bruce, and Robert le Diable as my name-fellows; and +the feeling of sore disappointment that fell on my heart when I found a +freebooter or a general who did not share with me a single one of my +numerous _praenomina_. Look at the delight with which two children find +they have the same name. They are friends from that moment forth; they +have a bond of union stronger than exchange of nuts and sweetmeats. This +feeling, I own, wears off in later life. Our names lose their freshness +and interest, become trite and indifferent. But this, dear reader, is +merely one of the sad effects of those "shades of the prison-house" +which come gradually betwixt us and nature with advancing years; it +affords no weapon against the philosophy of names. + +In after life, although we fail to trace its working, that name which +careless godfathers lightly applied to your unconscious infancy will +have been moulding your character, and influencing with irresistible +power the whole course of your earthly fortunes. But the last name, +overlooked by Mr. Shandy, is no whit less important as a condition of +success. Family names, we must recollect, are but inherited nicknames; +and if the _sobriquet_ were applicable to the ancestor, it is most +likely applicable to the descendant also. You would not expect to find +Mr. M'Phun acting as a mute, or Mr. M'Lumpha excelling as a professor of +dancing. Therefore, in what follows, we shall consider names, +independent of whether they are first or last. And to begin with, look +what a pull _Cromwell_ had over _Pym_--the one name full of a resonant +imperialism, the other, mean, pettifogging, and unheroic to a degree. +Who would expect eloquence from _Pym_--who would read poems by +_Pym_--who would bow to the opinion of _Pym_? He might have been a +dentist, but he should never have aspired to be a statesman. I can only +wonder that he succeeded as he did. Pym and Habakkuk stand first upon +the roll of men who have triumphed, by sheer force of genius, over the +most unfavourable appellations. But even these have suffered; and, had +they been more fitly named, the one might have been Lord Protector, and +the other have shared the laurels with Isaiah. In this matter we must +not forget that all our great poets have borne great names. Chaucer, +Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Wordsworth, Shelley--what a +constellation of lordly words! Not a single common-place name among +them--not a Brown, not a Jones, not a Robinson; they are all names that +one would stop and look at on a door-plate. Now, imagine if _Pepys_ had +tried to clamber somehow into the enclosure of poetry, what a blot would +that word have made upon the list! The thing was impossible. In the +first place a certain natural consciousness that men would have held him +down to the level of his name, would have prevented him from rising +above the Pepsine standard, and so haply withheld him altogether from +attempting verse. Next, the book-sellers would refuse to publish, and +the world to read them, on the mere evidence of the fatal appellation. +And now, before I close this section, I must say one word as to +_punnable_ names, names that stand alone, that have a significance and +life apart from him that bears them. These are the bitterest of all. One +friend of mine goes bowed and humbled through life under the weight of +this misfortune; for it is an awful thing when a man's name is a joke, +when he cannot be mentioned without exciting merriment, and when even +the intimation of his death bids fair to carry laughter into many a +home. + +So much for people who are badly named. Now for people who are _too_ +well named, who go top-heavy from the font, who are baptized into a +false position, and find themselves beginning life eclipsed under the +fame of some of the great ones of the past. A man, for instance, called +William Shakespeare could never dare to write plays. He is thrown into +too humbling an apposition with the author of _Hamlet._ His own name +coming after is such an anti-climax. "The plays of William Shakespeare"? +says the reader--"O no! The plays of William Shakespeare Cockerill," and +he throws the book aside. In wise pursuance of such views, Mr. John +Milton Hengler, who not long since delighted us in this favoured town, +has never attempted to write an epic, but has chosen a new path, and has +excelled upon the tight-rope. A marked example of triumph over this is +the case of Mr. Dante Gabriel Rossetti. On the face of the matter, I +should have advised him to imitate the pleasing modesty of the +last-named gentleman, and confine his ambition to the sawdust. But Mr. +Rossetti has triumphed. He has even dared to translate from his mighty +name-father; and the voice of fame supports him in his boldness. + +Dear readers, one might write a year upon this matter. A lifetime of +comparison and research could scarce suffice for its elucidation. So +here, if it please you, we shall let it rest. Slight as these notes have +been, I would that the great founder of the system had been alive to see +them. How he had warmed and brightened, how his persuasive eloquence +would have fallen on the ears of Toby; and what a letter of praise and +sympathy would not the editor have received before the month was out! +Alas, the thing was not to be. Walter Shandy died and was duly buried, +while yet his theory lay forgotten and neglected by his +fellow-countrymen. But, reader, the day will come, I hope, when a +paternal government will stamp out, as seeds of national weakness, all +depressing patronymics, and when godfathers and godmothers will soberly +and earnestly debate the interest of the nameless one, and not rush +blindfold to the christening. In these days there shall be written a +"Godfather's Assistant," in shape of a dictionary of names, with their +concomitant virtues and vices; and this book shall be scattered +broadcast through the land, and shall be on the table of every one +eligible for god-fathership, until such a thing as a vicious or untoward +appellation shall have ceased from off the face of the earth. + + + + +NOTES AND ESSAYS CHIEFLY OF THE ROAD + + + + +NOTES AND ESSAYS CHIEFLY OF THE ROAD + +I + +A RETROSPECT + +(_A Fragment: written at Dunoon, 1870_) + + +If there is anything that delights me in Hazlitt, beyond the charm of +style and the unconscious portrait of a vain and powerful spirit, which +his works present, it is the loving and tender way in which he returns +again to the memory of the past. These little recollections of bygone +happiness were too much a part of the man to be carelessly or poorly +told. The imaginary landscapes and visions of the most ecstatic dreamer +can never rival such recollections, told simply perhaps, but still told +(as they could not fail to be) with precision, delicacy, and evident +delight. They are too much loved by the author not to be palated by the +reader. But beyond the mere felicity of pencil, the nature of the piece +could never fail to move my heart. When I read his essay "On the Past +and Future," every word seemed to be something I had said myself. I +could have thought he had been eavesdropping at the doors of my heart, +so entire was the coincidence between his writing and my thought. It is +a sign perhaps of a somewhat vain disposition. The future is nothing; +but the past is myself, my own history, the seed of my present thoughts, +the mould of my present disposition. It is not in vain that I return to +the nothings of my childhood; for every one of them has left some stamp +upon me or put some fetter on my boasted free-will. In the past is my +present fate; and in the past also is my real life. It is not the past +only, but the past that has been many years in that tense. The doings +and actions of last year are as uninteresting and vague to me as the +blank gulf of the future, the _tabula rasa_ that may never be anything +else. I remember a confused hotch-potch of unconnected events, a "chaos +without form, and void"; but nothing salient or striking rises from the +dead level of "flat, stale, and unprofitable" generality. When we are +looking at a landscape we think ourselves pleased; but it is only when +it comes back upon us by the fire o' nights that we can disentangle the +main charm from the thick of particulars. It is just so with what is +lately past. It is too much loaded with detail to be distinct; and the +canvas is too large for the eye to encompass. But this is no more the +case when our recollections have been strained long enough through the +hour-glass of time; when they have been the burthen of so much thought, +the charm and comfort of so many a vigil. All that is worthless has been +sieved and sifted out of them. Nothing remains but the brightest lights +and the darkest shadows. When we see a mountain country near at hand, +the spurs and haunches crowd up in eager rivalry, and the whole range +seems to have shrugged its shoulders to its ears, till we cannot tell +the higher from the lower: but when we are far off, these lesser +prominences are melted back into the bosom of the rest, or have set +behind the round horizon of the plain, and the highest peaks stand forth +in lone and sovereign dignity against the sky. It is just the same with +our recollections. We require to draw back and shade our eyes before the +picture dawns upon us in full breadth and outline. Late years are still +in limbo to us; but the more distant past is all that we possess in +life, the corn already harvested and stored for ever in the grange of +memory. The doings of to-day at some future time will gain the required +offing; I shall learn to love the things of my adolescence, as Hazlitt +loved them, and as I love already the recollections of my childhood. +They will gather interest with every year. They will ripen in forgotten +corners of my memory; and some day I shall waken and find them vested +with new glory and new pleasantness. + +It is for stirring the chords of memory, then, that I love Hazlitt's +essays, and for the same reason (I remember) he himself threw in his +allegiance to Rousseau, saying of him, what was so true of his own +writings: "He seems to gather up the past moments of his being like +drops of honey-dew to distil some precious liquor from them; his +alternate pleasures and pains are the bead-roll that he tells over and +piously worships; he makes a rosary of the flowers of hope and fancy +that strewed his earliest years." How true are these words when applied +to himself! and how much I thank him that it was so! All my childhood is +a golden age to me. I have no recollection of bad weather. Except one or +two storms where grandeur had impressed itself on my mind, the whole +time seems steeped in sunshine. "_Et ego in Arcadia vixi_" would be no +empty boast upon my grave. If I desire to live long, it is that I may +have the more to look back upon. Even to one, like the unhappy Duchess, + + "Acquainted with sad misery + As the tamed galley-slave is with his oar," + +and seeing over the night of troubles no "lily-wristed morn" of hope +appear, a retrospect of even chequered and doubtful happiness in the +past may sweeten the bitterness of present tears. And here I may be +excused if I quote a passage from an unpublished drama (the unpublished +is perennial, I fancy) which the author believed was not all devoid of +the flavour of our elder dramatists. However this may be, it expresses +better than I could some further thoughts on this same subject. The +heroine is taken by a minister to the grave, where already some have +been recently buried, and where her sister's lover is destined to +rejoin them on the following day.[37] + + * * * * * + +What led me to the consideration of this subject, and what has made me +take up my pen to-night, is the rather strange coincidence of two very +different accidents--a prophecy of my future and a return into my past. +No later than yesterday, seated in the coffee-room here, there came into +the tap of the hotel a poor mad Highland woman. The noise of her +strained, thin voice brought me out to see her. I could conceive that +she had been pretty once, but that was many years ago. She was now +withered and fallen-looking. Her hair was thin and straggling, her dress +poor and scanty. Her moods changed as rapidly as a weathercock before a +thunderstorm. One moment she said her "mutch" was the only thing that +gave her comfort, and the next she slackened the strings and let it back +upon her neck, in a passion at it for making her too hot. Her talk was a +wild, somewhat weird, farrago of utterly meaningless balderdash, mere +inarticulate gabble, snatches of old Jacobite ballads and exaggerated +phrases from the drama, to which she suited equally exaggerated action. +She "babbled of green fields" and Highland glens; she prophesied "the +drawing of the claymore," with a lofty disregard of cause or +common-sense; and she broke out suddenly, with uplifted hands and eyes, +into ecstatic "Heaven bless hims!" and "Heaven forgive hims!" She had +been a camp-follower in her younger days, and she was never tired of +expatiating on the gallantry, the fame, and the beauty of the 42nd +Highlanders. Her patriotism knew no bounds, and her prolixity was much +on the same scale. This Witch of Endor offered to tell my fortune, with +much dignity and proper oracular enunciation. But on my holding forth my +hand a somewhat ludicrous incident occurred. "Na, na," she said; "wait +till I have a draw of my pipe." Down she sat in the corner, puffing +vigorously and regaling the lady behind the counter with conversation +more remarkable for stinging satire than prophetic dignity. The person +in question had "mair weeg than hair on her head" (did not the chignon +plead guilty at these words?)--"wad be better if she had less +tongue"--and would come at last to the grave, a goal which, in a few +words, she invested with "warning circumstance" enough to make a Stoic +shudder. Suddenly, in the midst of this, she rose up and beckoned me to +approach. The oracles of my Highland sorceress had no claim to +consideration except in the matter of obscurity. In "question hard and +sentence intricate" she beat the priests of Delphi; in bold, unvarnished +falsity (as regards the past) even spirit-rapping was a child to her. +All that I could gather may be thus summed up shortly: that I was to +visit America, that I was to be very happy, and that I was to be much +upon the sea, predictions which, in consideration of an uneasy stomach, +I can scarcely think agreeable with one another. Two incidents alone +relieved the dead level of idiocy and incomprehensible gabble. The first +was the comical announcement that "when I drew fish to the Marquis of +Bute, I should take care of my sweetheart," from which I deduce the fact +that at some period of my life I shall drive a fishmonger's cart. The +second, in the middle of such nonsense, had a touch of the tragic. She +suddenly looked at me with an eager glance, and dropped my hand saying, +in what were tones of misery or a very good affectation of them, "Black +eyes!" A moment after she was at work again. It is as well to mention +that I have not black eyes.[38] + +This incident, strangely blended of the pathetic and the ludicrous, set +my mind at work upon the future; but I could find little interest in the +study. Even the predictions of my sibyl failed to allure me, nor could +life's prospect charm and detain my attention like its retrospect. + +Not far from Dunoon is Rosemore, a house in which I had spent a week or +so in my very distant childhood, how distant I have no idea; and one may +easily conceive how I looked forward to revisiting this place and so +renewing contact with my former self. I was under necessity to be early +up, and under necessity also, in the teeth of a bitter spring +north-easter, to clothe myself warmly on the morning of my long-promised +excursion. The day was as bright as it was cold. Vast irregular masses +of white and purple cumulus drifted rapidly over the sky. The great +hills, brown with the bloomless heather, were here and there buried in +blue shadows, and streaked here and there with sharp stripes of sun. The +new-fired larches were green in the glens; and "pale primroses" hid +themselves in mossy hollows and under hawthorn roots. All these things +were new to me; for I had noticed none of these beauties in my younger +days, neither the larch woods, nor the winding road edged in between +field and flood, nor the broad, ruffled bosom of the hill-surrounded +loch. It was, above all, the height of these hills that astonished me. I +remembered the existence of hills, certainly, but the picture in my +memory was low, featureless, and uninteresting. They seemed to have kept +pace with me in my growth, but to a gigantic scale; and the villas that +I remembered as half-way up the slope seemed to have been left behind +like myself, and now only ringed their mighty feet, white among the +newly kindled woods. As I felt myself on the road at last that I had +been dreaming for these many days before, a perfect intoxication of joy +took hold upon me; and I was so pleased at my own happiness that I could +let none past me till I had taken them into my confidence. I asked my +way from every one, and took good care to let them all know, before +they left me, what my object was, and how many years had elapsed since +my last visit. I wonder what the good folk thought of me and my +communications. + +At last, however, after much inquiry, I arrive at the place, make my +peace with the gardener, and enter. My disillusion dates from the +opening of the garden door. I repine, I find a reluctation of spirit +against believing that this is the place. What, is this kailyard that +inexhaustible paradise of a garden in which M---- and I found +"elbow-room," and expatiated together without sensible constraint? Is +that little turfed slope the huge and perilous green bank down which I +counted it a feat, and the gardener a sin, to run? Are these two squares +of stone, some two feet high, the pedestals on which I walked with such +a penetrating sense of dizzy elevation, and which I had expected to find +on a level with my eyes? Ay, the place is no more like what I expected +than this bleak April day is like the glorious September with which it +is incorporated in my memory. I look at the gardener, disappointment in +my face, and tell him that the place seems sorrily shrunken from the +high estate that it had held in my remembrance, and he returns, with +quiet laughter, by asking me how long it is since I was there. I tell +him, and he remembers me. Ah! I say, I was a great nuisance, I believe. +But no, my good gardener will plead guilty to having kept no record of +my evil-doings, and I find myself much softened toward the place and +willing to take a kinder view and pardon its shortcomings for the sake +of the gardener and his pretended recollection of myself. And it is just +at this stage (to complete my re-establishment) that I see a little +boy--the gardener's grandchild--just about the same age and the same +height that I must have been in the days when I was here last. My first +feeling is one of almost anger, to see him playing on the gravel where I +had played before, as if he had usurped something of my identity; but +next moment I feel a softening and a sort of rising and qualm of the +throat, accompanied by a pricking heat in the eye balls. I hastily join +conversation with the child, and inwardly felicitate myself that the +gardener is opportunely gone for the key of the house. But the child is +a sort of homily to me. He is perfectly quiet and resigned, an +unconscious hermit. I ask him jocularly if he gets as much abused as I +used to do for running down the bank; but the child's perfect +seriousness of answer staggers me--"O no, grandpapa doesn't allow +it--why should he?" I feel caught: I stand abashed at the reproof; I +must not expose my childishness again to this youthful disciplinarian, +and so I ask him very stately what he is going to be--a good serious +practical question, out of delicacy for his parts. He answers that he is +going to be a missionary to China, and tells me how a missionary once +took him on his knee and told him about missionary work, and asked him +if he, too, would not like to become one, to which the child had simply +answered in the affirmative. The child is altogether so different from +what I have been, is so absolutely complementary to what I now am, that +I turn away not a little abashed from the conversation, for there is +always something painful in sudden contact with the good qualities that +we do not possess. Just then the grandfather returns; and I go with him +to the summer-house, where I used to learn my Catechism, to the wall on +which M----and I thought it no small exploit to walk upon, and all the +other places that I remembered. + +In fine, the matter being ended, I turn and go my way home to the hotel, +where, in the cold afternoon, I write these notes with the table and +chair drawn as near the fire as the rug and the French polish will +permit. + +One other thing I may as well make a note of, and that is how there +arises that strange contradiction of the hills being higher than I had +expected and everything near at hand being so ridiculously smaller. This +is a question I think easily answered: the very terms of the problem +suggest the solution. To everything near at hand I applied my own +stature, as a sort of natural unit of measurement, so that I had no +actual image of their dimensions but their ratio to myself; so, of +course, as one term of the proportion changed, the other changed +likewise, and as my own height increased my notion of things near at +hand became equally expanded. But the hills, mark you, were out of my +reach: I could not apply myself to them: I had an actual, instead of a +proportional eidolon of their magnitude; so that, of course (my eye +being larger and flatter nowadays, and so the image presented to me then +being in sober earnest smaller than the image presented to me now), I +found the hills nearly as much too great as I had found the other things +too small. + + * * * * * + +[_Added the next morning_.]--He who indulges habitually in the +intoxicating pleasures of imagination, for the very reason that he reaps +a greater pleasure than others, must resign himself to a keener pain, a +more intolerable and utter prostration. It is quite possible, and even +comparatively easy, so to enfold oneself in pleasant fancies that the +realities of life may seem but as the white snow-shower in the street, +that only gives a relish to the swept hearth and lively fire within. By +such means I have forgotten hunger, I have sometimes eased pain, and I +have invariably changed into the most pleasant hours of the day those +very vacant and idle seasons which would otherwise have hung most +heavily upon my hand. But all this is attained by the undue prominence +of purely imaginative joys, and consequently the weakening and almost +the destruction of reality. This is buying at too great a price. There +are seasons when the imagination becomes somehow tranced and surfeited, +as it is with me this morning; and then upon what can we fall back? The +very faculty that we have fostered and trusted has failed us in the hour +of trial; and we have so blunted and enfeebled our appetite for the +others that they are subjectively dead to us. It is just as though a +farmer should plant all his fields in potatoes, instead of varying them +with grain and pasture; and so, when the disease comes, lose all his +harvest, while his neighbours, perhaps, may balance the profit and the +loss. Do not suppose that I am exaggerating when I talk about all +pleasures seeming stale. To me, at least, the edge of almost everything +is put on by imagination; and even nature, in these days when the fancy +is drugged and useless, wants half the charm it has in better moments. I +can no longer see satyrs in the thicket, or picture a highwayman riding +down the lane. The fiat of indifference has gone forth: I am vacant, +unprofitable: a leaf on a river with no volition and no aim: a mental +drunkard the morning after an intellectual debauch. Yes, I have a more +subtle opium in my own mind than any apothecary's drug; but it has a +sting of its own, and leaves me as flat and helpless as does the other. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [37] The quotation here promised from one of the author's own early + dramatic efforts (a tragedy of Semiramis) is not supplied in the + MS.--[SIR SIDNEY COLVIN'S NOTE.] + + [38] "The old pythoness was right," adds the author in a note appended + to his MS. in 1887; "I have been happy: I did go to America (am even + going again--unless----): and I have been twice and once upon the + deep." The seafaring part of the prophecy remained to be fulfilled + on a far more extended scale in his Pacific voyages of + 1888-90.--[SIR SIDNEY COLVIN'S NOTE.] + + + + +II + +COCKERMOUTH AND KESWICK + +(_A Fragment_: 1871) + + +Very much as a painter half closes his eyes so that some salient unity +may disengage itself from among the crowd of details, and what he sees +may thus form itself into a whole; very much on the same principle, I +may say, I allow a considerable lapse of time to intervene between any +of my little journeyings and the attempt to chronicle them. I cannot +describe a thing that is before me at the moment, or that has been +before me only a very little while before; I must allow my recollections +to get thoroughly strained free from all chaff till nothing be except +the pure gold; allow my memory to choose out what is truly memorable by +a process of natural selection; and I piously believe that in this way +I ensure the Survival of the Fittest. If I make notes for future use, or +if I am obliged to write letters during the course of my little +excursion, I so interfere with the process that I can never again find +out what is worthy of being preserved, or what should be given in full +length, what in torso, or what merely in profile. This process of +incubation may be unreasonably prolonged; and I am somewhat afraid that +I have made this mistake with the present journey. Like a bad +daguerreotype, great part of it has been entirely lost; I can tell you +nothing about the beginning and nothing about the end; but the doings of +some fifty or sixty hours about the middle remain quite distinct and +definite, like a little patch of sunshine on a long, shadowy plain, or +the one spot on an old picture that has been restored by the dexterous +hand of the cleaner. I remember a tale of an old Scots minister, called +upon suddenly to preach, who had hastily snatched an old sermon out of +his study and found himself in the pulpit before he noticed that the +rats had been making free with his manuscript and eaten the first two or +three pages away; he gravely explained to the congregation how he found +himself situated; "And now," said he, "let us just begin where the rats +have left off." I must follow the divine's example, and take up the +thread of my discourse where it first distinctly issues from the limbo +of forgetfulness. + + +COCKERMOUTH + +I was lighting my pipe as I stepped out of the inn at Cockermouth, and +did not raise my head until I was fairly in the street. When I did so, +it flashed upon me that I was in England; the evening sunlight lit up +English houses, English faces, an English conformation of street,--as it +were, an English atmosphere blew against my face. There is nothing +perhaps more puzzling (if one thing in sociology can ever really be more +unaccountable than another) than the great gulf that is set between +England and Scotland--a gulf so easy in appearance, in reality so +difficult to traverse. Here are two people almost identical in blood; +pent up together on one small island, so that their intercourse (one +would have thought) must be as close as that of prisoners who shared one +cell of the Bastille; the same in language and religion; and yet a few +years of quarrelsome isolation--a mere forenoon's tiff, as one may call +it, in comparison with the great historical cycles--has so separated +their thoughts and ways that not unions, not mutual dangers, nor +steamers, nor railways, nor all the king's horses and all the king's +men, seem able to obliterate the broad distinction. In the trituration +of another century or so the corners may disappear; but in the meantime, +in the year of grace 1871, I was as much in a new country as if I had +been walking out of the Hotel St. Antoine at Antwerp. + +I felt a little thrill of pleasure at my heart as I realised the change, +and strolled away up the street with my hands behind my back, noting in +a dull, sensual way how foreign, and yet how friendly, were the slopes +of the gables and the colour of the tiles, and even the demeanour and +voices of the gossips round about me. + +Wandering in this aimless humour, I turned up a lane and found myself +following the course of the bright little river. I passed first one and +then another, then a third, several couples out love-making in the +spring evening; and a consequent feeling of loneliness was beginning to +grow upon me, when I came to a dam across the river, and a mill--a +great, gaunt promontory of building,--half on dry ground and half arched +over the stream. The road here drew in its shoulders, and crept through +between the landward extremity of the mill and a little garden +enclosure, with a small house and a large signboard within its privet +hedge. I was pleased to fancy this an inn, and drew little etchings in +fancy of a sanded parlour, and three-cornered spittoons, and a society +of parochial gossips seated within over their churchwardens; but as I +drew near, the board displayed its superscription, and I could read the +name of Smethurst, and the designation of "Canadian Felt Hat +Manufacturers." There was no more hope of evening fellowship, and I +could only stroll on by the river-side, under the trees. The water was +dappled with slanting sunshine, and dusted all over with a little mist +of flying insects. There were some amorous ducks, also, whose +love-making reminded me of what I had seen a little farther down. But +the road grew sad, and I grew weary; and as I was perpetually haunted +with the terror of a return of the tic that had been playing such ruin +in my head a week ago, I turned and went back to the inn, and supper, +and my bed. + +The next morning, at breakfast, I communicated to the smart waitress my +intention of continuing down the coast and through Whitehaven to +Furness, and, as I might have expected, I was instantly confronted by +that last and most worrying form of interference, that chooses to +introduce tradition and authority into the choice of a man's own +pleasures. I can excuse a person combating my religious or philosophical +heresies, because them I have deliberately accepted, and am ready to +justify by present argument. But I do not seek to justify my pleasures. +If I prefer tame scenery to grand, a little hot sunshine over lowland +parks and woodlands to the war of the elements round the summit of Mont +Blanc; or if I prefer a pipe of mild tobacco, and the company of one or +two chosen companions, to a ball where I feel myself very hot, awkward, +and weary, I merely state these preferences as facts, and do not seek to +establish them as principles. This is not the general rule, however, and +accordingly the waitress was shocked, as one might be at a heresy, to +hear the route that I had sketched out for myself. Everybody who came to +Cockermouth for pleasure, it appeared, went on to Keswick. It was in +vain that I put up a little plea for the liberty of the subject; it was +in vain that I said I should prefer to go to Whitehaven. I was told that +there was "nothing to see there"--that weary, hackneyed, old falsehood; +and at last, as the handmaiden began to look really concerned, I gave +way, as men always do in such circumstances, and agreed that I was to +leave for Keswick by a train in the early evening. + + +AN EVANGELIST + +Cockermouth itself, on the same authority, was a place with "nothing to +see"; nevertheless I saw a good deal, and retain a pleasant, vague +picture of the town and all its surroundings. I might have dodged +happily enough all day about the main street and up to the castle and in +and out of byways, but the curious attraction that leads a person in a +strange place to follow, day after day, the same round, and to make set +habits for himself in a week or ten days, led me half unconsciously up +the same road that I had gone the evening before. When I came up to the +hat manufactory, Smethurst himself was standing in the garden gate. He +was brushing one Canadian felt hat, and several others had been put to +await their turn one above the other on his own head, so that he looked +something like the typical Jew old-clothesman. As I drew near, he came +sidling out of the doorway to accost me, with so curious an expression +on his face that I instinctively prepared myself to apologise for some +unwitting trespass. His first question rather confirmed me in this +belief, for it was whether or not he had seen me going up this way last +night; and after having answered in the affirmative, I waited in some +alarm for the rest of my indictment. But the good man's heart was full +of peace; and he stood there brushing his hats and prattling on about +fishing, and walking, and the pleasures of convalescence, in a bright +shallow stream that kept me pleased and interested, I could scarcely say +how. As he went on, he warmed to his subject, and laid his hats aside to +go along the water-side and show me where the large trout commonly lay, +underneath an overhanging bank; and he was much disappointed, for my +sake, that there were none visible just then. Then he wandered off on to +another tack, and stood a great while out in the middle of a meadow in +the hot sunshine, trying to make out that he had known me before, or, if +not me, some friend of mine--merely, I believe, out of a desire that we +should feel more friendly and at our ease with one another. At last he +made a little speech to me, of which I wish I could recollect the very +words, for they were so simple and unaffected that they put all the best +writing and speaking to the blush; as it is, I can recall only the +sense, and that perhaps imperfectly. He began by saying that he had +little things in his past life that it gave him especial pleasure to +recall; and that the faculty of receiving such sharp impressions had now +died out in himself, but must at my age be still quite lively and +active. Then he told me that he had a little raft afloat on the river +above the dam which he was going to lend me, in order that I might be +able to look back, in after years, upon having done so, and get great +pleasure from the recollection. Now, I have a friend of my own who will +forego present enjoyments and suffer much present inconvenience for the +sake of manufacturing "a reminiscence" for himself; but there was +something singularly refined in this pleasure that the hatmaker found in +making reminiscences for others; surely no more simple or unselfish +luxury can be imagined. After he had unmoored his little embarkation, +and seen me safely shoved off into mid-stream, he ran away back to his +hats with the air of a man who had only just recollected that he had +anything to do. + +I did not stay very long on the raft. It ought to have been very nice +punting about there in the cool shade of the trees, or sitting moored to +an overhanging root; but perhaps the very notion that I was bound in +gratitude specially to enjoy my little cruise, and cherish its +recollection, turned the whole thing from a pleasure into a duty. Be +that as it may, there is no doubt that I soon wearied and came ashore +again, and that it gives me more pleasure to recall the man himself and +his simple, happy conversation, so full of gusto and sympathy, than +anything possibly connected with his crank, insecure embarkation. In +order to avoid seeing him, for I was not a little ashamed of myself for +having failed to enjoy this treat sufficiently, I determined to continue +up the river, and, at all prices, to find some other way back into the +town in time for dinner. As I went, I was thinking of Smethurst with +admiration; a look into that man's mind was like a retrospect over the +smiling champaign of his past life, and very different from the +Sinai-gorges up which one looks for a terrified moment into the dark +souls of many good, many wise, and many prudent men. I cannot be very +grateful to such men for their excellence, and wisdom, and prudence. I +find myself facing as stoutly as I can a hard, combative existence, full +of doubt, difficulties, defeats, disappointments, and dangers, quite a +hard enough life without their dark countenances at my elbow, so that +what I want is a happy-minded Smethurst placed here and there at ugly +corners of my life's wayside, preaching his gospel of quiet and +contentment. + + +ANOTHER + +I was shortly to meet with an evangelist of another stamp. After I had +forced my way through a gentleman's grounds, I came out on the high +road, and sat down to rest myself on a heap of stones at the top of a +long hill, with Cockermouth lying snugly at the bottom. An Irish +beggar-woman, with a beautiful little girl by her side, came up to ask +for alms, and gradually fell to telling me the little tragedy of her +life. Her own sister, she told me, had seduced her husband from her +after many years of married life, and the pair had fled, leaving her +destitute, with the little girl upon her hands. She seemed quite hopeful +and cheery, and, though she was unaffectedly sorry for the loss of her +husband's earnings, she made no pretence of despair at the loss of his +affection; some day she would meet the fugitives, and the law would see +her duly righted, and in the meantime the smallest contribution was +gratefully received. While she was telling all this in the most +matter-of-fact way, I had been noticing the approach of a tall man, with +a high white hat and darkish clothes. He came up the hill at a rapid +pace, and joined our little group with a sort of half salutation. +Turning at once to the woman, he asked her in a business-like way +whether she had anything to do, whether she were a Catholic or a +Protestant, whether she could read, and so forth; and then, after a few +kind words and some sweeties to the child, he despatched the mother with +some tracts about Biddy and the Priest, and the Orangeman's Bible. I was +a little amused at his abrupt manner, for he was still a young man, and +had somewhat the air of a navy officer; but he tackled me with great +solemnity. I could make fun of what he said, for I do not think it was +very wise; but the subject does not appear to me just now in a jesting +light, so I shall only say that he related to me his own conversion, +which had been effected (as is very often the case) through the agency +of a gig accident, and that, after having examined me and diagnosed my +case, he selected some suitable tracts from his repertory, gave them to +me, and, bidding me God-speed, went on his way. + + +LAST OF SMETHURST + +That evening I got into a third-class carriage on my way for Keswick, +and was followed almost immediately by a burly man in brown clothes. +This fellow-passenger was seemingly ill at ease, and kept continually +putting his head out of the window, and asking the bystanders if they +saw _him_ coming. At last, when the train was already in motion, there +was a commotion on the platform, and a way was left clear to our +carriage door. _He_ had arrived. In the hurry I could just see +Smethurst, red and panting, thrust a couple of clay pipes into my +companion's outstretched hand, and hear him crying his farewells after +us as we slipped out of the station at an ever accelerating pace. I said +something about its being a close run, and the broad man, already +engaged in filling one of the pipes, assented, and went on to tell me of +his own stupidity in forgetting a necessary, and of how his friend had +good-naturedly gone down town at the last moment to supply the omission. +I mentioned that I had seen Mr. Smethurst already, and that he had been +very polite to me; and we fell into a discussion of the hatter's merits +that lasted some time and left us quite good friends at its conclusion. +The topic was productive of goodwill. We exchanged tobacco and talked +about the season, and agreed at last that we should go to the same hotel +at Keswick and sup in company. As he had some business in the town which +would occupy him some hour or so, on our arrival I was to improve the +time and go down to the lake, that I might see a glimpse of the promised +wonders. + +The night had fallen already when I reached the water-side, at a place +where many pleasure-boats are moored and ready for hire; and as I went +along a stony path, between wood and water, a strong wind blew in gusts +from the far end of the lake. The sky was covered with flying scud; and, +as this was ragged, there was quite a wild chase of shadow and +moon-glimpse over the surface of the shuddering water. I had to hold my +hat on, and was growing rather tired, and inclined to go back in +disgust, when a little incident occurred to break the tedium. A sudden +and violent squall of wind sundered the low underwood, and at the same +time there came one of those brief discharges of moonlight, which leaped +into the opening thus made, and showed me three girls in the prettiest +flutter and disorder. It was as though they had sprung out of the +ground. I accosted them very politely in my capacity of stranger, and +requested to be told the names of all manner of hills and woods and +places that I did not wish to know, and we stood together for a while +and had an amusing little talk. The wind, too, made himself of the +party, brought the colour into their faces, and gave them enough to do +to repress their drapery; and one of them, amid much giggling, had to +pirouette round and round upon her toes (as girls do) when some +specially strong gust had got the advantage over her. They were just +high enough up in the social order not to be afraid to speak to a +gentleman; and just low enough to feel a little tremor, a nervous +consciousness of wrong-doing--of stolen waters, that gave a considerable +zest to our most innocent interview. They were as much discomposed and +fluttered, indeed, as if I had been a wicked baron proposing to elope +with the whole trio; but they showed no inclination to go away, and I +had managed to get them off hills and waterfalls and on to more +promising subjects, when a young man was descried coming along the path +from the direction of Keswick. Now whether he was the young man of one +of my friends, or the brother of one of them, or indeed the brother of +all, I do not know; but they incontinently said that they must be going, +and went away up the path with friendly salutations. I need not say that +I found the lake and the moonlight rather dull after their departure and +speedily found my way back to potted herrings and whisky-and-water in +the commercial room with my late fellow-traveller. In the smoking-room +there was a tall dark man with a moustache, in an ulster coat, who had +got the best place and was monopolising most of the talk; and, as I came +in, a whisper came round to me from both sides, that this was the +manager of a London theatre. The presence of such a man was a great +event for Keswick, and I must own that the manager showed himself equal +to his position. He had a large fat pocket-book, from which he produced +poem after poem, written on the backs of letters or hotel-bills; and +nothing could be more humorous than his recitation of these elegant +extracts, except perhaps the anecdotes with which he varied the +entertainment. Seeing, I suppose, something less countrified in my +appearance than in most of the company, he singled me out to +corroborate some statements as to the depravity and vice of the +aristocracy, and when he went on to describe some gilded saloon +experiences, I am proud to say that he honoured my sagacity with one +little covert wink before a second time appealing to me for +confirmation. The wink was not thrown away; I went in up to the elbows +with the manager, until I think that some of the glory of that great man +settled by reflection upon me, and that I was as noticeably the second +person in the smoking-room as he was the first. For a young man, this +was a position of some distinction, I think you will admit.... + + + + +III + +ROADS + +(1873) + + +No amateur will deny that he can find more pleasure in a single drawing, +over which he can sit a whole quiet forenoon, and so gradually study +himself into humour with the artist, than he can ever extract from the +dazzle and accumulation of incongruous impressions that send him, weary +and stupefied, out of some famous picture-gallery. But what is thus +admitted with regard to art is not extended to the (so-called) natural +beauties: no amount of excess in sublime mountain outline or the graces +of cultivated lowland can do anything, it is supposed, to weaken or +degrade the palate. We are not at all sure, however, that moderation, +and a regimen tolerably austere, even in scenery, are not healthful and +strengthening to the taste; and that the best school for a lover of +nature is not to be found in one of those countries where there is no +stage effect--nothing salient or sudden,--but a quiet spirit of orderly +and harmonious beauty pervades all the details, so that we can +patiently attend to each of the little touches that strike in us, all of +them together, the subdued note of the landscape. It is in scenery such +as this that we find ourselves in the right temper to seek out small +sequestered loveliness. The constant recurrence of similar combinations +of colour and outline gradually forces upon us a sense of how the +harmony has been built up, and we become familiar with something of +nature's mannerism. This is the true pleasure of your "rural +voluptuary,"--not to remain awe-stricken before a Mount Chimborazo; not +to sit deafened over the big drum in the orchestra, but day by day to +teach himself some new beauty--to experience some new vague and tranquil +sensation that has before evaded him. It is not the people who "have +pined and hungered after nature many a year, in the great city pent," as +Coleridge said in the poem that made Charles Lamb so much ashamed of +himself; it is not those who make the greatest progress in this intimacy +with her, or who are most quick to see and have the greatest gusto to +enjoy. In this, as in everything else, it is minute knowledge and +long-continued loving industry that make the true dilettante. A man must +have thought much over scenery before he begins fully to enjoy it. It is +no youngling enthusiasm on hill-tops that can possess itself of the last +essence of beauty. Probably most people's heads are growing bare before +they can see all in a landscape that they have the capability of seeing; +and, even then, it will be only for one little moment of consummation +before the faculties are again on the decline, and they that look out of +the windows begin to be darkened and restrained in sight. Thus the study +of nature should be carried forward thoroughly and with system. Every +gratification should be rolled long under the tongue, and we should be +always eager to analyse and compare, in order that we may be able to +give some plausible reason for our admirations. True, it is difficult to +put even approximately into words the kind of feelings thus called into +play. There is a dangerous vice inherent in any such intellectual +refining upon vague sensation. The analysis of such satisfactions lends +itself very readily to literary affectations; and we can all think of +instances where it has shown itself apt to exercise a morbid influence, +even upon an author's choice of language and the turn of his sentences. +And yet there is much that makes the attempt attractive; for any +expression, however imperfect, once given to a cherished feeling, seems +a sort of legitimation of the pleasure we take in it. A common sentiment +is one of those great goods that make life palatable and ever new. The +knowledge that another has felt as we have felt, and seen things, even +if they are little things, not much otherwise than we have seen them, +will continue to the end to be one of life's choicest pleasures. + +Let the reader, then, betake himself in the spirit we have recommended +to some of the quieter kinds of English landscape. In those homely and +placid agricultural districts, familiarity will bring into relief many +things worthy of notice, and urge them pleasantly home to him by a sort +of loving repetition; such as the wonderful life-giving speed of +windmill sails above the stationary country; the occurrence and +recurrence of the same church tower at the end of one long vista after +another; and, conspicuous among these sources of quiet pleasure, the +character and variety of the road itself, along which he takes his way. +Not only near at hand, in the lithe contortions with which it adapts +itself to the interchanges of level and slope, but far away also, when +he sees a few hundred feet of it upheaved against a hill and shining in +the afternoon sun, he will find it an object so changeful and enlivening +that he can always pleasurably busy his mind about it. He may leave the +river-side, or fall out of the way of villages, but the road he has +always with him; and, in the true humour of observation, will find in +that sufficient company. From its subtle windings and changes of level +there arises a keen and continuous interest, that keeps the attention +ever alert and cheerful. Every sensitive adjustment to the contour of +the ground, every little dip and swerve, seems instinct with life and +an exquisite sense of balance and beauty. The road rolls upon the easy +slopes of the country, like a long ship in the hollows of the sea. The +very margins of waste ground, as they trench a little farther on the +beaten way, or recede again to the shelter of the hedge, have something +of the same free delicacy of line--of the same swing and wilfulness. You +might think for a whole summer's day (and not have thought it any nearer +an end by evening) what concourse and succession of circumstances has +produced the least of these deflections; and it is, perhaps, just in +this that we should look for the secret of their interest. A footpath +across a meadow--in all its human waywardness and unaccountability, in +all the _grata protervitas_ of its varying direction--will always be +more to us than a railroad well engineered through a difficult +country.[39] No reasoned sequence is thrust upon our attention: we seem +to have slipped for one lawless little moment out of the iron rule of +cause and effect; and so we revert at once to some of the pleasant old +heresies of personification, always poetically orthodox, and attribute a +sort of free will, an active and spontaneous life, to the white riband +of road that lengthens out, and bends, and cunningly adapts itself to +the inequalities of the land before our eyes. We remember, as we write, +some miles of fine wide highway laid out with conscious aesthetic +artifice through a broken and richly cultivated tract of country. It is +said that the engineer had Hogarth's line of beauty in his mind as he +laid them down. And the result is striking. One splendid satisfying +sweep passes with easy transition into another, and there is nothing to +trouble or dislocate the strong continuousness of the main line of the +road. And yet there is something wanting. There is here no saving +imperfection, none of these secondary curves and little trepidations of +direction that carry, in natural roads, our curiosity actively along +with them. One feels at once that this road has not grown like a natural +road, but has been laboriously made to pattern; and that, while a model +may be academically correct in outline, it will always be inanimate and +cold. The traveller is also aware of a sympathy of mood between himself +and the road he travels. We have all seen ways that have wandered into +heavy sand near the sea-coast, and trail wearily over the dunes like a +trodden serpent: here we too must plod forward at a dull, laborious +pace; and so a sympathy is preserved between our frame of mind and the +expression of the relaxed, heavy curves of the roadway. Such a +phenomenon, indeed, our reason might perhaps resolve with a little +trouble. We might reflect that the present road had been developed out +of a track spontaneously followed by generations of primitive wayfarers; +and might see in its expression a testimony that those generations had +been affected at the same ground, one after another, in the same manner +as we are affected to-day. Or we might carry the reflection further, and +remind ourselves that where the air is invigorating and the ground firm +under the traveller's foot, his eye is quick to take advantage of small +undulations, and he will turn carelessly aside from the direct way +wherever there is anything beautiful to examine or some promise of a +wider view; so that even a bush of wild roses may permanently bias and +deform the straight path over the meadow; whereas, where the soil is +heavy, one is preoccupied with the labour of mere progression, and goes +with a bowed head heavily and unobservantly forward. Reason, however, +will not carry us the whole way; for the sentiment often recurs in +situations where it is very hard to imagine any possible explanation; +and indeed, if we drive briskly along a good, well-made road in an open +vehicle, we shall experience this sympathy almost at its fullest. We +feel the sharp settle of the springs at some curiously twisted corner; +after a steep ascent, the fresh air dances in our faces as we rattle +precipitately down the other side, and we find It difficult to avoid +attributing something headlong, a sort of _abandon_, to the road itself. + +The mere winding of the path is enough to enliven a long day's walk in +even a commonplace or dreary country-side. Something that we have seen +from miles back, upon an eminence, is so long hid from us, as we wander +through folded valleys or among woods, that our expectation of seeing it +again is sharpened into a violent appetite, and as we draw nearer we +impatiently quicken our steps and turn every corner with a beating +heart. It is through these prolongations of expectancy, this succession +of one hope to another, that we live out long seasons of pleasure in a +few hours' walk. It is in following these capricious sinuosities that we +learn, only bit by bit and through one coquettish reticence after +another, much as we learn the heart of a friend, the whole loveliness of +the country. This disposition always preserves something new to be seen, +and takes us, like a careful cicerone, to many different points of +distant view before it allows us finally to approach the hoped-for +destination. + +In its connection with the traffic, and whole friendly intercourse with +the country, there is something very pleasant in that succession of +saunterers and brisk and business-like passers-by, that peoples our ways +and helps to build up what Walt Whitman calls "the cheerful voice of the +public road, the gay, fresh sentiment of the road." But out of the great +network of ways that binds all life together from the hill-farm to the +city, there is something individual to most, and, on the whole, nearly +as much choice on the score of company as on the score of beauty or easy +travel. On some we are never long without the sound of wheels, and folk +pass us by so thickly that we lose the sense of their number. But on +others, about little-frequented districts, a meeting is an affair of +moment; we have the sight far off of some one coming towards us, the +growing definiteness of the person, and then the brief passage and +salutation, and the road left empty in front of us for perhaps a great +while to come. Such encounters have a wistful interest that can hardly +be understood by the dweller in places more populous. We remember +standing beside a countryman once, in the mouth of a quiet by-street in +a city that was more than ordinarily crowded and bustling; he seemed +stunned and bewildered by the continual passage of different faces; and +after a long pause, during which he appeared to search for some suitable +expression, he said timidly that there seemed to be a _great deal of +meeting thereabouts_. The phrase is significant. It is the expression of +town-life in the language of the long, solitary country highways. A +meeting of one with one was what this man had been used to in the +pastoral uplands from which he came; and the concourse of the streets +was in his eyes only an extraordinary multiplication of such "meetings." + +And now we come to that last and most subtle quality of all, to that +sense of prospect, of outlook, that is brought so powerfully to our +minds by a road. In real nature as well as in old landscapes, beneath +that impartial daylight in which a whole variegated plain is plunged and +saturated, the line of the road leads the eye forth with the vague sense +of desire up to the green limit of the horizon. Travel is brought home +to us, and we visit in spirit every grove and hamlet that tempts us in +the distance. _Sehnsucht_--the passion for what is ever beyond--is +livingly expressed in that white riband of possible travel that severs +the uneven country; not a ploughman following his plough up the shining +furrow, not the blue smoke of any cottage in a hollow, but is brought to +us with a sense of nearness and attainability by this wavering line of +junction. There is a passionate paragraph in Werther that strikes the +very key. "When I came hither," he writes, "how the beautiful valley +invited me on every side, as I gazed down into it from the hill-top! +There the wood--ah, that I might mingle in its shadows! there the +mountain summits--ah, that I might look down from them over the broad +country! the interlinked hills! the secret valleys! O, to lose myself +among their mysteries! I hurried into the midst, and came back without +finding aught I hoped for. Alas! the distance is like the future. A vast +whole lies in the twilight before our spirit; sight and feeling alike +plunge and lose themselves in the prospect, and we yearn to surrender +our whole being, and let it be filled full with all the rapture of one +single glorious sensation; and alas! when we hasten to the fruition, +when _there_ is changed to _here_, all is afterwards as it was before, +and we stand in our indigent and cramped estate, and our soul thirsts +after a still ebbing elixir." It is to this wandering and uneasy spirit +of anticipation that roads minister. Every little vista, every little +glimpse that we have of what lies before us, gives the impatient +imagination rein, so that it can outstrip the body and already plunge +into the shadow of the woods, and overlook from the hilltop the plain +beyond it, and wander in the windings of the valleys that are still far +in front. The road is already there--we shall not be long behind. It is +as if we were marching with the rear of a great army, and, from far +before, heard the acclamation of the people as the vanguard entered some +friendly and jubilant city. Would not every man, through all the long +miles of march, feel as if he also were within the gates? + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [39] Compare Blake, in the "Marriage of Heaven and Hell": "Improvement + makes straight roads; but the crooked roads, without improvement, + are roads of Genius." + + + + +IV + +NOTES ON THE MOVEMENTS OF YOUNG CHILDREN + +(1874) + + +I wish to direct the reader's attention to a certain quality in the +movements of children when young, which is somehow lovable in them, +although it would be even unpleasant in any grown person. Their +movements are not graceful, but they fall short of grace by something so +sweetly humorous that we only admire them the more. The imperfection is +so pretty and pathetic, and it gives so great a promise of something +different in the future, that it attracts us more than many forms of +beauty. They have something of the merit of a rough sketch by a master, +in which we pardon what is wanting or excessive for the sake of the very +bluntness and directness of the thing. It gives us pleasure to see the +beginning of gracious impulses and the springs of harmonious movement +laid bare to us with innocent simplicity. + +One night some ladies formed a sort of impromptu dancing-school in the +drawing-room of an hotel in France. One of the ladies led the ring, and +I can recall her as a model of accomplished, cultured movement. Two +little girls, about eight years old, were the pupils; that is an age of +great interest in girls, when natural grace comes to its consummation of +justice and purity, with little admixture of that other grace of +forethought and discipline that will shortly supersede it altogether. In +these two, particularly, the rhythm was sometimes broken by an excess of +energy, as though the pleasure of the music in their light bodies could +endure no longer the restraint of regulated dance. So that, between +these and the lady, there was not only some beginning of the very +contrast I wish to insist upon, but matter enough to set one thinking a +long while on the beauty of motion. I do not know that, here in England, +we have any good opportunity of seeing what that is; the generation of +British dancing men and women are certainly more remarkable for other +qualities than for grace: they are, many of them, very conscientious +artists, and give quite a serious regard to the technical parts of their +performance; but the spectacle, somehow, is not often beautiful, and +strikes no note of pleasure. If I had seen no more, therefore, this +evening might have remained in my memory as a rare experience. But the +best part of it was yet to come. For after the others had desisted, the +musician still continued to play, and a little button between two and +three years old came out into the cleared space and began to figure +before us as the music prompted. I had an opportunity of seeing her, not +on this night only, but on many subsequent nights; and the wonder and +comical admiration she inspired was only deepened as time went on. She +had an admirable musical ear; and each new melody, as it struck in her a +new humour, suggested wonderful combinations and variations of movement. +Now it would be a dance with which she would suit the music, now rather +an appropriate pantomime, and now a mere string of disconnected +attitudes. But whatever she did, she did it with the same verve and +gusto. The spirit of the air seemed to have entered into her, and to +possess her like a passion; and you could see her struggling to find +expression for the beauty that was in her against the inefficacy of the +dull, half-informed body. Though her footing was uneven, and her +gestures often ludicrously helpless, still the spectacle was not merely +amusing; and though subtle inspirations of movement miscarried in +tottering travesty, you could still see that they had been inspirations; +you could still see that she had set her heart on realising something +just and beautiful, and that, by the discipline of these abortive +efforts, she was making for herself in the future a quick, supple, and +obedient body. It was grace in the making. She was not to be daunted by +any merriment of people looking on critically; the music said something +to her, and her whole spirit was intent on what the music said: she must +carry out its suggestions, she must do her best to translate its +language into that other dialect of the modulated body into which it can +be translated most easily and fully. + +Just the other day I was witness to a second scene, in which the motive +was something similar; only this time with quite common children, and in +the familiar neighbourhood of Hampstead. A little congregation had +formed itself in the lane underneath my window, and was busy over a +skipping-rope. There were two sisters, from seven to nine perhaps, with +dark faces and dark hair, and slim, lithe, little figures clad in lilac +frocks. The elder of these two was mistress of the art of skipping. She +was just and adroit in every movement; the rope passed over her black +head and under her scarlet-stockinged legs with a precision and +regularity that was like machinery; but there was nothing mechanical in +the infinite variety and sweetness of her inclinations, and the +spontaneous agile flexure of her lean waist and hips. There was one +variation favourite with her, in which she crossed her hands before her +with a motion not unlike that of weaving, which was admirably intricate +and complete. And when the two took the rope together and whirled in and +out with occasional interruptions, there was something Italian in the +type of both--in the length of nose, in the slimness and accuracy of the +shapes--and something gay and harmonious in the double movement, that +added to the whole scene a southern element, and took me over sea and +land into distant and beautiful places. Nor was this impression lessened +when the elder girl took in her arms a fair-headed baby, while the +others held the rope for her, turned and gyrated, and went in and out +over it lightly, with a quiet regularity that seemed as if it might go +on for ever. Somehow, incongruous as was the occupation, she reminded me +of Italian Madonnas. And now, as before in the hotel drawing-room, the +humorous element was to be introduced; only this time it was in broad +farce. The funniest little girl, with a mottled complexion and a big, +damaged nose, and looking for all the world like any dirty, broken-nosed +doll in a nursery lumber-room, came forward to take her turn. While the +others swung the rope for her as gently as it could be done--a mere +mockery of movement--and playfully taunted her timidity, she passaged +backwards and forwards in a pretty flutter of indecision, putting up her +shoulders and laughing with the embarrassed laughter of children by the +water's edge, eager to bathe and yet fearful. There never was anything +at once so droll and so pathetic. One did not know whether to laugh or +to cry. And when at last she had made an end of all her deprecations and +drawings back, and summoned up heart enough to straddle over the rope, +one leg at a time, it was a sight to see her ruffle herself up like a +peacock and go away down the lane with her damaged nose, seeming to +think discretion the better part of valour, and rather uneasy lest they +should ask her to repeat the exploit. Much as I had enjoyed the grace of +the older girls, it was now just as it had been before in France, and +the clumsiness of the child seemed to have a significance and a sort of +beauty of its own, quite above this grace of the others in power to +affect the heart. I had looked on with a certain sense of balance and +completion at the silent, rapid, masterly evolutions of the eldest; I +had been pleased by these in the way of satisfaction. But when little +broken-nose began her pantomime of indecision I grew excited. There was +something quite fresh and poignant in the delight I took in her +imperfect movements. I remember, for instance, that I moved my own +shoulders, as if to imitate her; really, I suppose, with an inarticulate +wish to help her out. + +Now, there are many reasons why this gracelessness of young children +should be pretty and sympathetic to us. And, first, there is an interest +as of battle. It is in travail and laughable _fiasco_ that the young +school their bodies to beautiful expression, as they school their minds. +We seem, in watching them, to divine antagonists pitted one against the +other; and, as in other wars, so in this war of the intelligence against +the unwilling body, we do not wish to see even the cause of progress +triumph without some honourable toil; and we are so sure of the ultimate +result, that it pleases us to linger in pathetic sympathy over these +reverses of the early campaign, just as we do over the troubles that +environ the heroine of a novel on her way to the happy ending. Again, +people are very ready to disown the pleasure they take in a thing +merely because it is big, as an Alp, or merely because it is little, as +a little child; and yet this pleasure is surely as legitimate as +another. There is much of it here; we have an irrational indulgence for +small folk; we ask but little where there is so little to ask it of; we +cannot overcome our astonishment that they should be able to move at +all, and are interested in their movements somewhat as we are interested +in the movements of a puppet. And again, there is a prolongation of +expectancy when, as in these movements of children, we are kept +continually on the very point of attainment and ever turned away and +tantalised by some humorous imperfection. This is altogether absent in +the secure and accomplished movements of persons more fully grown. The +tight-rope walker does not walk so freely or so well as any one else can +walk upon a good road; and yet we like to watch him for the mere sake of +the difficulty; we like to see his vacillations; we like this last so +much even, that I am told a really artistic tight-rope walker must feign +to be troubled in his balance, even if he is not so really. And again, +we have in these baby efforts an assurance of spontaneity that we do not +have often. We know this at least certainly, that the child tries to +dance for its own pleasure, and not for any by-end of ostentation and +conformity. If we did not know it we should see it. There is a +sincerity, a directness, an impulsive truth, about their free gestures +that shows throughout all imperfection, and it is to us as a +reminiscence of primitive festivals and the Golden Age. Lastly, there is +in the sentiment much of a simple human compassion for creatures more +helpless than ourselves. One nearly ready to die is pathetic; and so is +one scarcely ready to live. In view of their future, our heart is +softened to these clumsy little ones. They will be more adroit when they +are not so happy. + +Unfortunately, then, this character that so much delights us is not one +that can be preserved by any plastic art. It turns, as we have seen, +upon consideration not really aesthetic. Art may deal with the slim +freedom of a few years later; but with this fettered impulse, with these +stammering motions, she is powerless to do more than stereotype what is +ungraceful, and, in the doing of it, lose all pathos and humanity. So +these humorous little ones must go away into the limbo of beautiful +things that are not beautiful for art, there to wait a more perfect age +before they sit for their portraits. + + + + +V + +ON THE ENJOYMENT OF UNPLEASANT PLACES + +(1874) + + +It is a difficult matter to make the most of any given place, and we +have much in our own power. Things looked at patiently from one side +after another generally end by showing a side that is beautiful. A few +months ago some words were said in the _Portfolio_ as to an "austere +regimen in scenery"; and such a discipline was then recommended as +"healthful and strengthening to the taste." That is the test, so to +speak, of the present essay. This discipline in scenery, it must be +understood, is something more than a mere walk before breakfast to whet +the appetite. For when we are put down in some unsightly neighbourhood, +and especially if we have come to be more or less dependent on what we +see, we must set ourselves to hunt out beautiful things with all the +ardour and patience of a botanist after a rare plant. Day by day we +perfect ourselves in the art of seeing nature more favourably. We learn +to live with her, as people learn to live with fretful or violent +spouses: to dwell lovingly on what is good, and shut our eyes against +all that is bleak or inharmonious. We learn, also, to come to each +place in the right spirit. The traveller, as Brantome quaintly tells us, +"_fait des discours en soi pour se soutenir en chemin_"; and into these +discourses he weaves something out of all that he sees and suffers by +the way; they take their tone greatly from the varying character of the +scene; a sharp ascent brings different thoughts from a level road; and +the man's fancies grow lighter as he comes out of the wood into a +clearing. Nor does the scenery any more affect the thoughts than the +thoughts affect the scenery. We see places through our humours as +through differently-coloured glasses. We are ourselves a term in the +equation, a note of the chord, and make discord or harmony almost at +will. There is no fear for the result, if we can but surrender ourselves +sufficiently to the country that surrounds and follows us, so that we +are ever thinking suitable thoughts or telling ourselves some suitable +sort of story as we go. We become thus, in some sense, a centre of +beauty; we are provocative of beauty, much as a gentle and sincere +character is provocative of sincerity and gentleness in others. And even +where there is no harmony to be elicited by the quickest and most +obedient of spirits, we may still embellish a place with some attraction +of romance. We may learn to go far afield for associations, and handle +them lightly when we have found them. Sometimes an old print comes to +our aid; I have seen many a spot lit up at once with picturesque +imaginations, by a reminiscence of Callot, or Sadeler, or Paul Brill. +Dick Turpin has been my lay figure for many an English lane. And I +suppose the Trossachs would hardly be the Trossachs for most tourists if +a man of admirable romantic instinct had not peopled it for them with +harmonious figures, and brought them thither with minds rightly prepared +for the impression. There is half the battle in this preparation. For +instance: I have rarely been able to visit, in the proper spirit, the +wild and inhospitable places of our own Highlands. I am happier where it +is tame and fertile, and not readily pleased without trees. I +understand that there are some phases of mental trouble that harmonise +well with such surroundings, and that some persons, by the dispensing +power of the imagination, can go back several centuries in spirit, and +put themselves into sympathy with the hunted, houseless, unsociable way +of life that was in its place upon these savage hills. Now, when I am +sad, I like nature to charm me out of my sadness, like David before +Saul; and the thought of these past ages strikes nothing in me but an +unpleasant pity; so that I can never hit on the right humour for this +sort of landscape, and lose much pleasure in consequence. Still, even +here, if I were only let alone, and time enough were given, I should +have all manner of pleasures, and take many clear and beautiful images +away with me when I left. When we cannot think ourselves into sympathy +with the great features of a country, we learn to ignore them, and put +our head among the grass for flowers, or pore, for long times together, +over the changeful current of a stream. We come down to the sermon in +stones, when we are shut out from any poem in the spread landscape. We +begin to peep and botanise, we take an interest in birds and insects, we +find many things beautiful in miniature. The reader will recollect the +little summer scene in "Wuthering Heights"--the one warm scene, perhaps, +in all that powerful, miserable novel--and the great feature that is +made therein by grasses and flowers and a little sunshine: this is in +the spirit of which I now speak. And, lastly, we can go indoors; +interiors are sometimes as beautiful, often more picturesque, than the +shows of the open air, and they have that quality of shelter of which I +shall presently have more to say. + +With all this in mind, I have often been tempted to put forth the +paradox that any place is good enough to live a life in, while it is +only in a few, and those highly favoured, that we can pass a few hours +agreeably. For, if we only stay long enough, we become at home in the +neighbourhood. Reminiscences spring up, like flowers, about +uninteresting corners. We forget to some degree the superior loveliness +of other places, and fall into a tolerant and sympathetic spirit which +is its own reward and justification. Looking back the other day on some +recollections of my own, I was astonished to find how much I owed to +such a residence; six weeks in one unpleasant country-side had done +more, it seemed, to quicken and educate my sensibilities than many years +in places that jumped more nearly with my inclination. + +The country to which I refer was a level and treeless plateau over which +the winds cut like a whip. For miles on miles it was the same. A river, +indeed, fell into the sea near the town where I resided; but the valley +of the river was shallow and bald, for as far up as ever I had the heart +to follow it. There were roads, certainly, but roads that had no beauty +or interest; for, as there was no timber, and but little irregularity of +surface, you saw your whole walk exposed to you from the beginning: +there was nothing left to fancy, nothing to expect, nothing to see by +the wayside, save here and there an unhomely-looking homestead, and here +and there a solitary, spectacled stone-breaker; and you were only +accompanied, as you went doggedly forward, by the gaunt telegraph-posts +and the hum of the resonant wires in the keen sea-wind. To one who had +learned to know their song in warm pleasant places by the Mediterranean, +it seemed to taunt the country, and make it still bleaker by suggested +contrast. Even the waste places by the side of the road were not, as +Hawthorne liked to put it, "taken back to Nature" by any decent covering +of vegetation. Wherever the land had the chance, it seemed to lie +fallow. There is a certain tawny nudity of the South, bare sun-burnt +plains, coloured like a lion, and hills clothed only in the blue +transparent air; but this was of another description--this was the +nakedness of the North; the earth seemed to know that it was naked, and +was ashamed and cold. + +It seemed to be always blowing on that coast. Indeed, this had passed +into the speech of the inhabitants, and they saluted each other when +they met with "Breezy, breezy," instead of the customary "Fine day" of +farther south. These continual winds were not like the harvest breeze, +that just keeps an equable pressure against your face as you walk, and +serves to set all the trees talking over your head, or bring round you +the smell of the wet surface of the country after a shower. They were of +the bitter, hard, persistent sort, that interferes with sight and +respiration, and makes the eyes sore. Even such winds as these have +their own merit in proper time and place. It is pleasant to see them +brandish great masses of shadow. And what a power they have over the +colour of the world! How they ruffle the solid woodlands in their +passage, and make them shudder and whiten like a single willow! There is +nothing more vertiginous than a wind like this among the woods, with all +its sights and noises; and the effect gets between some painters and +their sober eyesight, so that, even when the rest of their picture is +calm, the foliage is coloured like foliage in a gale. There was nothing, +however, of this sort to be noticed in a country where there were no +trees and hardly any shadows, save the passive shadows of clouds or +those of rigid houses and walls. But the wind was nevertheless an +occasion of pleasure; for nowhere could you taste more fully the +pleasure of a sudden lull, or a place of opportune shelter. The reader +knows what I mean; he must remember how, when he has sat himself down +behind a dyke on a hill-side, he delighted to hear the wind hiss vainly +through the crannies at his back; how his body tingled all over with +warmth, and it began to dawn upon him, with a sort of slow surprise, +that the country was beautiful, the heather purple, and the far-away +hills all marbled with sun and shadow. Wordsworth, in a beautiful +passage of the "Prelude," has used this as a figure for the feeling +struck in us by the quiet by-streets of London after the uproar of the +great thoroughfares; and the comparison may be turned the other way with +as good effect: + + "Meanwhile the roar continues, till at length, + Escaped as from an enemy, we turn + Abruptly into some sequester'd nook, + Still as a shelter'd place when winds blow loud!" + +I remember meeting a man once, in a train, who told me of what must have +been quite the most perfect instance of this pleasure of escape. He had +gone up, one sunny, windy morning, to the top of a great cathedral +somewhere abroad; I think it was Cologne Cathedral, the great unfinished +marvel by the Rhine; and after a long while in dark stairways, he issued +at last into the sunshine, on a platform high above the town. At that +elevation it was quite still and warm; the gale was only in the lower +strata of the air, and he had forgotten it in the quiet interior of the +church and during his long ascent; and so you may judge of his surprise +when, resting his arms on the sunlit balustrade and looking over into +the "Place" far below him, he saw the good people holding on their hats +and leaning hard against the wind as they walked. There is something, to +my fancy, quite perfect in this little experience of my +fellow-traveller's. The ways of men seem always very trivial to us when +we find ourselves alone on a church top, with the blue sky and a few +tall pinnacles, and see far below us the steep roofs and foreshortened +buttresses, and the silent activity of the city streets; but how much +more must they not have seemed so to him as he stood, not only above +other men's business, but above other men's climate, in a golden zone +like Apollo's! + +This was the sort of pleasure I found in the country of which I write. +The pleasure was to be out of the wind, and to keep it in memory all the +time, and hug oneself upon the shelter. And it was only by the sea that +any such sheltered places were to be found. Between the black worm-eaten +headlands there are little bights and havens, well screened from the +wind and the commotion of the external sea, where the sand and weeds +look up into the gazer's face from a depth of tranquil water, and the +sea-birds, screaming and flickering from the ruined crags, alone disturb +the silence and the sunshine. One such place has impressed itself on my +memory beyond all others. On a rock by the water's edge, old fighting +men of the Norse breed had planted a double castle; the two stood wall +to wall like semi-detached villas; and yet feud had run so high between +their owners, that one, from out of a window, shot the other as he stood +in his own doorway. There is something in the juxtaposition of these two +enemies full of tragic irony. It is grim to think of bearded men and +bitter women taking hateful counsel together about the two hall-fires at +night, when the sea boomed against the foundations and the wild winter +wind was loose over the battlements. And in the study we may reconstruct +for ourselves some pale figure of what life then was. Not so when we are +there; when we are there such thoughts come to us only to intensify a +contrary impression, and association is turned against itself. I +remember walking thither three afternoons in succession, my eyes weary +with being set against the wind, and how, dropping suddenly over the +edge of the down, I found myself in a new world of warmth and shelter. +The wind, from which I had escaped, "as from an enemy," was seemingly +quite local. It carried no clouds with it, and came from such a quarter +that it did not trouble the sea within view. The two castles, black and +ruinous as the rocks about them, were still distinguishable from these +by something more insecure and fantastic in the outline, something that +the last storm had left imminent and the next would demolish entirely. +It would be difficult to render in words the sense of peace that took +possession of me on these three afternoons. It was helped out, as I +have said, by the contrast. The shore was battered and bemauled by +previous tempests; I had the memory at heart of the insane strife of the +pigmies who had erected these two castles and lived in them in mutual +distrust and enmity, and knew I had only to put my head out of this +little cup of shelter to find the hard wind blowing in my eyes; and yet +there were the two great tracts of motionless blue air and peaceful sea +looking on, unconcerned and apart, at the turmoil of the present moment +and the memorials of the precarious past. There is ever something +transitory and fretful in the impression of a high wind under a +cloudless sky; it seems to have no root in the constitution of things; +it must speedily begin to faint and wither away like a cut flower. And +on those days the thought of the wind and the thought of human life came +very near together in my mind. Our noisy years did indeed seem moments +in the being of the eternal silence: and the wind, in the face of that +great field of stationary blue, was as the wind of a butterfly's wing. +The placidity of the sea was a thing likewise to be remembered. Shelley +speaks of the sea as "hungering for calm," and in this place one learned +to understand the phrase. Looking down into these green waters from the +broken edge of the rock, or swimming leisurely in the sunshine, it +seemed to me that they were enjoying their own tranquillity; and when +now and again it was disturbed by a wind ripple on the surface, or the +quick black passage of a fish far below, they settled back again (one +could fancy) with relief. + +On shore too, in the little nook of shelter, everything was so subdued +and still that the least particular struck in me a pleasurable surprise. +The desultory crackling of the whin-pods in the afternoon sun usurped +the ear. The hot, sweet breath of the bank, that had been saturated all +day long with sunshine, and now exhaled it into my face, was like the +breath of a fellow-creature. I remember that I was haunted by two lines +of French verse; in some dumb way they seemed to fit my surroundings and +give expression to the contentment that was in me, and I kept repeating +to myself-- + + "Mon coeur est un luth suspendu; + Sitot qu'on le touche, il resonne." + +I can give no reason why these lines came to me at this time; and for +that very cause I repeat them here. For all I know, they may serve to +complete the impression in the mind of the reader, as they were +certainly a part of it for me. + +And this happened to me in the place of all others where I liked least +to stay. When I think of it I grow ashamed of my own ingratitude. "Out +of the strong came forth sweetness." There, in the bleak and gusty +North, I received, perhaps, my strongest impression of peace. I saw the +sea to be great and calm; and the earth, in that little corner, was all +alive and friendly to me. So, wherever a man is, he will find something +to please and pacify him: in the town he will meet pleasant faces of men +and women, and see beautiful flowers at a window, or hear a cage-bird +singing at the corner of the gloomiest street; and for the country, +there is no country without some amenity--let him only look for it in +the right spirit, and he will surely find. + + + + +VI + +AN AUTUMN EFFECT + +(1875) + + "Nous ne decrivons jamais mieux la nature que lorsque nous nous + efforcons d'exprimer sobrement et simplement l'impression que nous en + avons recue."--M. ANDRE THEURIET, "L'Automne dans les Bois," _Revue + des Deux Mondes_, 1st Oct. 1874, p. 562.[40] + + +A country rapidly passed through under favourable auspices may leave +upon us a unity of impression that would only be disturbed and +dissipated if we stayed longer. Clear vision goes with the quick foot. +Things fall for us into a sort of natural perspective when we see them +for a moment in going by; we generalise boldly and simply, and are gone +before the sun is overcast, before the rain falls, before the season can +steal like a dial-hand from his figure, before the lights and shadows, +shifting round towards nightfall, can show us the other side of things, +and belie what they showed us in the morning. We expose our mind to the +landscape (as we would expose the prepared plate in the camera) for the +moment only during which the effect endures; and we are away before the +effect can change. Hence we shall have in our memories a long scroll of +continuous wayside pictures, all imbued already with the prevailing +sentiment of the season, the weather, and the landscape, and certain to +be unified more and more, as time goes on, by the unconscious processes +of thought. So that we who have only looked at a country over our +shoulder, so to speak, as we went by, will have a conception of it far +more memorable and articulate than a man who has lived there all his +life from a child upwards, and had his impression of to-day modified by +that of to-morrow, and belied by that of the day after, till at length +the stable characteristics of the country are all blotted out from him +behind the confusion of variable effect. + +I began my little pilgrimage in the most enviable of all humours: that +in which a person, with a sufficiency of money and a knapsack, turns his +back on a town and walks forward into a country of which he knows only +by the vague report of others. Such an one has not surrendered his will +and contracted for the next hundred miles, like a man on a railway. He +may change his mind at every finger-post, and, where ways meet, follow +vague preferences freely and go the low road or the high, choose the +shadow or the sunshine, suffer himself to be tempted by the lane that +turns immediately into the woods, or the broad road that lies open +before him into the distance, and shows him the far-off spires of some +city, or a range of mountain-tops, or a rim of sea, perhaps, along a low +horizon. In short, he may gratify his every whim and fancy, without a +pang of reproving conscience, or the least jostle to his self-respect. +It is true, however, that most men do not possess the faculty of free +action, the priceless gift of being able to live for the moment only; +and as they begin to go forward on their journey, they will find that +they have made for themselves new fetters. Slight projects they may have +entertained for a moment, half in jest, become iron laws to them, they +know not why. They will be led by the nose by these vague reports of +which I spoke above; and the mere fact that their informant mentioned +one village and not another will compel their footsteps with +inexplicable power. And yet a little while, yet a few days of this +fictitious liberty, and they will begin to hear imperious voices calling +on them to return; and some passion, some duty, some worthy or unworthy +expectation, will set its hand upon their shoulder and lead them back +into the old paths. Once and again we have all made the experiment. We +know the end of it right well. And yet if we make it for the hundredth +time to-morrow, it will have the same charm as ever; our heart will beat +and our eyes will be bright, as we leave the town behind us, and we +shall feel once again (as we have felt so often before) that we are +cutting ourselves loose for ever from our whole past life, with all its +sins and follies and circumscriptions, and go forward as a new creature +into a new world. + +It is well, perhaps, that I had this first enthusiasm to encourage me up +the long hill above High Wycombe; for the day was a bad day for walking +at best, and now began to draw towards afternoon, dull, heavy, and +lifeless. A pall of grey cloud covered the sky, and its colour reacted +on the colour of the landscape. Near at hand, indeed, the hedgerow trees +were still fairly green, shot through with bright autumnal yellows, +bright as sunshine. But a little way off, the solid bricks of woodland +that lay squarely on slope and hill-top were not green, but russet and +grey, and ever less russet and more grey as they drew off into the +distance. As they drew off into the distance, also, the woods seemed to +mass themselves together, and lay thin and straight, like clouds, upon +the limit of one's view. Not that this massing was complete, or gave the +idea of any extent of forest, for every here and there the trees would +break up and go down into a valley in open order, or stand in long +Indian file along the horizon, tree after tree relieved, foolishly +enough, against the sky. I say foolishly enough, although I have seen +the effect employed cleverly in art, and such long line of single trees +thrown out against the customary sunset of a Japanese picture with a +certain fantastic effect that was not to be despised; but this was over +water and level land, where it did not jar, as here, with the soft +contour of hills and valleys. The whole scene had an indefinable look of +being painted, the colour was so abstract and correct, and there was +something so sketchy and merely impressional about these distant single +trees on the horizon that one was forced to think of it all as of a +clever French landscape. For it is rather in nature that we see +resemblance to art, than in art to nature; and we say a hundred times, +"How like a picture!" for once that we say, "How like the truth!" The +forms in which we learn to think of landscape are forms that we have got +from painted canvas. Any man can see and understand a picture; it is +reserved for the few to separate anything out of the confusion of +nature, and see that distinctly and with intelligence. + +The sun came out before I had been long on my way; and as I had got by +that time to the top of the ascent, and was now treading a labyrinth of +confined by-roads, my whole view brightened considerably in colour, for +it was the distance only that was grey and cold, and the distance I +could see no longer. Overhead there was a wonderful carolling of larks +which seemed to follow me as I went. Indeed, during all the time I was +in that country the larks did not desert me. The air was alive with them +from High Wycombe to Tring; and as, day after day, their "shrill +delight" fell upon me out of the vacant sky, they began to take such a +prominence over other conditions, and form so integral a part of my +conception of the country, that I could have baptised it "The Country of +Larks." This, of course, might just as well have been in early spring; +but everything else was deeply imbued with the sentiment of the later +year. There was no stir of insects in the grass. The sunshine was more +golden, and gave less heat than summer sunshine; and the shadows under +the hedge were somewhat blue and misty. It was only in autumn that you +could have seen the mingled green and yellow of the elm foliage, and the +fallen leaves that lay about the road, and covered the surface of +wayside pools so thickly that the sun was reflected only here and there +from little joints and pin-holes in that brown coat of proof; or that +your ear would have been troubled, as you went forward, by the +occasional report of fowling-pieces from all directions and all degrees +of distance. + +For a long time this dropping fire was the one sign of human activity +that came to disturb me as I walked. The lanes were profoundly still. +They would have been sad but for the sunshine and the singing of the +larks. And as it was, there came over me at times a feeling of isolation +that was not disagreeable, and yet was enough to make me quicken my +steps eagerly when I saw some one before me on the road. This +fellow-voyager proved to be no less a person than the parish constable. +It had occurred to me that in a district which was so little populous +and so well wooded, a criminal of any intelligence might play +hide-and-seek with the authorities for months; and this idea was +strengthened by the aspect of the portly constable as he walked by my +side with deliberate dignity and turned-out toes. But a few minutes' +converse set my heart at rest. These rural criminals are very tame +birds, it appeared. If my informant did not immediately lay his hand on +an offender, he was content to wait; some evening after nightfall there +would come a tap at his door, and the outlaw, weary of outlawry, would +give himself quietly up to undergo sentence, and resume his position in +the life of the country-side. Married men caused him no disquietude +whatever; he had them fast by the foot. Sooner or later they would come +back to see their wives, a peeping neighbour would pass the word, and my +portly constable would walk quietly over and take the bird sitting. And +if there were a few who had no particular ties in the neighbourhood, and +preferred to shift into another county when they fell into trouble, +their departure moved the placid constable in no degree. He was of +Dogberry's opinion; and if a man would not stand in the Prince's name, +he took no note of him, but let him go, and thanked God he was rid of a +knave. And surely the crime and the law were in admirable keeping: +rustic constable was well met with rustic offender. The officer sitting +at home over a bit of fire until the criminal came to visit him, and the +criminal coming--it was a fair match. One felt as if this must have been +the order in that delightful seaboard Bohemia where Florizel and Perdita +courted in such sweet accents, and the Puritan sang psalms to hornpipes, +and the four-and-twenty shearers danced with nosegays in their bosoms, +and chanted their three songs apiece at the old shepherd's festival; and +one could not help picturing to oneself what havoc among good people's +purses, and tribulation for benignant constable, might be worked here by +the arrival, over stile and footpath, of a new Autolycus. + +Bidding good-morning to my fellow-traveller, I left the road and struck +across country. It was rather a revelation to pass from between the +hedgerows and find quite a bustle on the other side, a great coming and +going of school-children upon by-paths, and, in every second field, +lusty horses and stout country-folk a-ploughing. The way I followed took +me through many fields thus occupied, and through many strips of +plantation, and then over a little space of smooth turf, very pleasant +to the feet, set with tall fir-trees and clamorous with rooks making +ready for the winter, and so back again into the quiet road. I was now +not far from the end of my day's journey. A few hundred yards farther, +and, passing through a gap in the hedge, I began to go down hill through +a pretty extensive tract of young beeches. I was soon in shadow myself, +but the afternoon sun still coloured the upmost boughs of the wood, and +made a fire over my head in the autumnal foliage. A little faint vapour +lay among the slim tree-stems in the bottom of the hollow; and from +farther up I heard from time to time an outburst of gross laughter, as +though clowns were making merry in the bush. There was something about +the atmosphere that brought all sights and sounds home to one with a +singular purity, so that I felt as if my senses had been washed with +water. After I had crossed the little zone of mist, the path began to +remount the hill; and just as I, mounting along with it, had got back +again, from the head downwards, into the thin golden sunshine, I saw in +front of me a donkey tied to a tree. Now, I have a certain liking for +donkeys, principally, I believe, because of the delightful things that +Sterne has written of them. But this was not after the pattern of the +ass at Lyons. He was of a white colour, that seemed to fit him rather +for rare festal occasions than for constant drudgery. Besides, he was +very small, and of the daintiest proportions you can imagine in a +donkey. And so, sure enough, you had only to look at him to see he had +never worked. There was something too roguish and wanton in his face, a +look too like that of a schoolboy or a street Arab, to have survived +much cudgelling. It was plain that these feet had kicked off sportive +children oftener than they had plodded with a freight through miry +lanes. He was altogether a fine-weather, holiday sort of donkey; and +though he was just then somewhat solemnised and rueful, he still gave +proof of the levity of his disposition by impudently wagging his ears at +me as I drew near. I say he was somewhat solemnised just then; for, with +the admirable instinct of all men and animals under restraint, he had so +wound and wound the halter about the tree that he could go neither back +nor forwards, nor so much as put down his head to browse. There he +stood, poor rogue, part puzzled, part angry, part, I believe, amused. He +had not given up hope, and dully revolved the problem in his head, +giving ever and again another jerk at the few inches of free rope that +still remained unwound. A humorous sort of sympathy for the creature +took hold upon me. I went up, and, not without some trouble on my part, +and much distrust and resistance on the part of Neddy, got him forced +backward until the whole length of the halter was set loose, and he was +once more as free a donkey as I dared to make him. I was pleased (as +people are) with this friendly action to a fellow-creature in +tribulation, and glanced back over my shoulder to see how he was +profiting by his freedom. The brute was looking after me; and no sooner +did he catch my eye than he put up his long white face into the air, +pulled an impudent mouth at me, and began to bray derisively. If ever +any one person made a grimace at another, that donkey made a grimace at +me. The hardened ingratitude of his behaviour, and the impertinence that +inspired his whole face as he curled up his lip, and showed his teeth, +and began to bray, so tickled me, and was so much in keeping with what I +had imagined to myself about his character, that I could not find it in +my heart to be angry, and burst into a peal of hearty laughter. This +seemed to strike the ass as a repartee, so he brayed at me again by way +of rejoinder; and we went on for a while, braying and laughing, until I +began to grow a-weary of it, and, shouting a derisive farewell, turned +to pursue my way. In so doing--it was like going suddenly into cold +water--I found myself face to face with a prim little old maid. She was +all in a flutter, the poor old dear! She had concluded beyond question +that this must be a lunatic who stood laughing aloud at a white donkey +in the placid beech-woods. I was sure, by her face, that she had already +recommended her spirit most religiously to Heaven, and prepared herself +for the worst. And so, to reassure her, I uncovered and besought her, +after a very staid fashion, to put me on my way to Great Missenden. Her +voice trembled a little, to be sure, but I think her mind was set at +rest; and she told me, very explicitly, to follow the path until I came +to the end of the wood, and then I should see the village below me in +the bottom of the valley. And, with mutual courtesies, the little old +maid and I went on our respective ways. + +Nor had she misled me. Great Missenden was close at hand, as she had +said, in the trough of a gentle valley, with many great elms about it. +The smoke from its chimneys went up pleasantly in the afternoon +sunshine. The sleepy hum of a threshing-machine filled the neighbouring +fields and hung about the quaint street corners. A little above, the +church sits well back on its haunches against the hill-side--an attitude +for a church, you know, that makes it look as if it could be ever so +much higher if it liked; and the trees grew about it thickly, so as to +make a density of shade in the churchyard. A very quiet place it looks; +and yet I saw many boards and posters about threatening dire punishment +against those who broke the church windows or defaced the precinct, and +offering rewards for the apprehension of those who had done the like +already. It was fair-day in Great Missenden. There were three stalls set +up _sub jove_, for the sale of pastry and cheap toys; and a great number +of holiday children thronged about the stalls, and noisily invaded every +corner of the straggling village. They came round me by coveys, blowing +simultaneously upon penny trumpets as though they imagined I should fall +to pieces like the battlements of Jericho. I noticed one among them who +could make a wheel of himself like a London boy, and seemingly enjoyed a +grave pre-eminence upon the strength of the accomplishment. By and by, +however, the trumpets began to weary me, and I went indoors, leaving the +fair, I fancy at its height. + +Night had fallen before I ventured forth again. It was pitch dark in the +village street, and the darkness seemed only the greater for a light +here and there in an uncurtained window or from an open door. Into one +such window I was rude enough to peep, and saw within a charming _genre_ +picture. In a room, all white wainscot and crimson wall-paper, a perfect +gem of colour after the black, empty darkness in which I had been +groping, a pretty girl was telling a story, as well as I could make out, +to an attentive child upon her knee, while an old woman sat placidly +dozing over the fire. You may be sure I was not behindhand with a story +for myself--a good old story after the manner of G.P.R. James and the +village melodramas, with a wicked squire, and poachers, and an +attorney, and a virtuous young man with a genius for mechanics, who +should love, and protect, and ultimately marry the girl in the crimson +room. Baudelaire has a few dainty sentences on the fancies that we are +inspired with when we look through a window into other people's lives; +and I think Dickens has somewhat enlarged on the same text. The subject, +at least, is one that I am seldom weary of entertaining. I remember, +night after night, at Brussels, watching a good family sup together, +make merry, and retire to rest; and night after night I waited to see +the candles lit, and the salad made, and the last salutations dutifully +exchanged, without any abatement of interest. Night after night I found +the scene rivet my attention and keep me awake in bed with all manner of +quaint imaginations. Much of the pleasure of the "Arabian Nights" hinges +upon this Asmodean interest; and we are not weary of lifting other +people's roofs and going about behind the scenes of life with the Caliph +and the serviceable Giaffar. It is a salutary exercise, besides; it is +salutary to get out of ourselves and see people living together in +perfect unconsciousness of our existence, as they will live when we are +gone. If to-morrow the blow falls, and the worst of our ill fears is +realised, the girl will none the less tell stories to the child on her +lap in the cottage at Great Missenden, nor the good Belgians light their +candle, and mix their salad, and go orderly to bed. + +The next morning was sunny overhead and damp underfoot, with a thrill in +the air like a reminiscence of frost. I went up into the sloping garden +behind the inn and smoked a pipe pleasantly enough, to the tune of my +landlady's lamentations over sundry cabbages and cauliflowers that had +been spoiled by caterpillars. She had been so much pleased in the +summer-time, she said, to see the garden all hovered over by white +butterflies. And now, look at the end of it! She could nowise reconcile +this with her moral sense. And, indeed, unless these butterflies are +created with a side-look to the composition of improving apologues, it +is not altogether easy, even for people who have read Hegel and Dr. +M'Cosh, to decide intelligibly upon the issue raised. Then I fell into a +long and abstruse calculation with my landlord; having for object to +compare the distance driven by him during eight years' service on the +box of the Wendover coach with the girth of the round world itself. We +tackled the question most conscientiously, made all necessary allowance +for Sundays and leap-years, and were just coming to a triumphant +conclusion of our labours when we were stayed by a small lacuna in my +information. I did not know the circumference of the earth. The landlord +knew it, to be sure--plainly he had made the same calculation twice and +once before,--but he wanted confidence in his own figures, and from the +moment I showed myself so poor a second seemed to lose all interest in +the result. + +Wendover (which was my next stage) lies in the same valley with Great +Missenden, but at the foot of it, where the hills trend off on either +hand like a coast-line, and a great hemisphere of plain lies, like a +sea, before one. I went up a chalky road, until I had a good outlook +over the place. The vale, as it opened out into the plain, was shallow, +and a little bare, perhaps, but full of graceful convolutions. From the +level to which I have now attained the fields were exposed before me +like a map, and I could see all that bustle of autumn field-work which +had been hid from me yesterday behind the hedgerows, or shown to me only +for a moment as I followed the footpath. Wendover lay well down in the +midst, with mountains of foliage about it. The great plain stretched +away to the northward, variegated near at hand with the quaint pattern +of the fields, but growing ever more and more indistinct, until it +became a mere hurly-burly of trees and bright crescents of river, and +snatches of slanting road, and finally melted into the ambiguous +cloud-land over the horizon. The sky was an opal-grey, touched here and +there with blue, and with certain faint russets that looked as if they +were reflections of the colour of the autumnal woods below. I could hear +the ploughmen shouting to their horses, the uninterrupted carol of larks +innumerable overhead, and, from a field where the shepherd was +marshalling his flock, a sweet tumultuous tinkle of sheep-bells. All +these noises came to me very thin and distinct in the clear air. There +was a wonderful sentiment of distance and atmosphere about the day and +the place. + +I mounted the hill yet farther by a rough staircase of chalky footholds +cut in the turf. The hills about Wendover, and, as far as I could see, +all the hills in Buckinghamshire, wear a sort of hood of beech +plantation; but in this particular case the hood had been suffered to +extend itself into something more like a cloak, and hung down about the +shoulders of the hill in wide folds, instead of lying flatly along the +summit. The trees grew so close, and their boughs were so matted +together, that the whole wood looked as dense as a bush of heather. The +prevailing colour was a dull, smouldering red, touched here and there +with vivid yellow. But the autumn had scarce advanced beyond the +outworks; it was still almost summer in the heart of the wood; and as +soon as I had scrambled through the hedge, I found myself in a dim green +forest atmosphere under eaves of virgin foliage. In places where the +wood had itself for a background and the trees were massed together +thickly, the colour became intensified and almost gem-like: a perfect +fire of green, that seemed none the less green for a few specks of +autumn gold. None of the trees were of any considerable age or stature; +but they grew well together, I have said; and as the road turned and +wound among them, they fell into pleasant groupings and broke the light +up pleasantly. Sometimes there would be a colonnade of slim, straight +tree-stems with the light running down them as down the shafts of +pillars, that looked as if it ought to lead to something, and led only +to a corner of sombre and intricate jungle. Sometimes a spray of +delicate foliage would be thrown out flat, the light lying flatly along +the top of it, so that against a dark background it seemed almost +luminous. There was a great hush over the thicket (for, indeed, it was +more of a thicket than a wood); and the vague rumours that went among +the tree-tops, and the occasional rustling of big birds or hares among +the undergrowth, had in them a note of almost treacherous stealthiness, +that put the imagination on its guard and made me walk warily on the +russet carpeting of last year's leaves. The spirit of the place seemed +to be all attention; the wood listened as I went, and held its breath to +number my footfalls. One could not help feeling that there ought to be +some reason for this stillness: whether, as the bright old legend goes, +Pan lay somewhere near in a siesta, or whether, perhaps, the heaven was +meditating rain, and the first drops would soon come pattering through +the leaves. It was not unpleasant, in such an humour, to catch sight, +ever and anon, of large spaces of the open plain. This happened only +where the path lay much upon the slope, and there was a flaw in the +solid leafy thatch of the wood at some distance below the level at which +I chanced myself to be walking; then, indeed, little scraps of +foreshortened distance, miniature fields, and Liliputian houses and +hedgerow trees would appear for a moment in the aperture, and grow +larger and smaller, and change and melt one into another, as I continued +to go forward, and so shift my point of view. + +For ten minutes, perhaps, I had heard from somewhere before me in the +wood a strange, continuous noise, as of clucking, cooing, and gobbling, +now and again interrupted by a harsh scream. As I advanced towards this +noise, it began to grow lighter about me, and I caught sight, through +the trees, of sundry gables and enclosure walls, and something like the +tops of a rickyard. And sure enough, a rickyard it proved to be, and a +neat little farm-steading, with the beech-woods growing almost to the +door of it. Just before me, however, as I came up the path, the trees +drew back and let in a wide flood of daylight on to a circular lawn. It +was here that the noises had their origin. More than a score of peacocks +(there are altogether thirty at the farm), a proper contingent of +peahens, and a great multitude that I could not number of more ordinary +barn-door fowls, were all feeding together on this little open lawn +among the beeches. They fed in a dense crowd, which swayed to and fro, +and came hither and thither as by a sort of tide, and of which the +surface was agitated like the surface of a sea as each bird guzzled his +head along the ground after the scattered corn. The clucking, cooing +noise that had led me thither was formed by the blending together of +countless expressions of individual contentment into one collective +expression of contentment, or general grace during meat. Every now and +again a big peacock would separate himself from the mob and take a +stately turn or two about the lawn, or perhaps mount for a moment upon +the rail, and there shrilly publish to the world his satisfaction with +himself and what he had to eat. It happened, for my sins, that none of +these admirable birds had anything beyond the merest rudiment of a tail. +Tails, it seemed, were out of season just then. But they had their necks +for all that; and by their necks alone they do as much surpass all the +other birds of our grey climate as they fall in quality of song below +the blackbird or the lark. Surely the peacock, with its incomparable +parade of glorious colour and the scrannel voice of it issuing forth, as +in mockery, from its painted throat, must, like my landlady's +butterflies at Great Missenden, have been invented by some skilful +fabulist for the consolation and support of homely virtue: or rather, +perhaps, by a fabulist not quite so skilful, who made points for the +moment without having a studious enough eye to the complete effect; for +I thought these melting greens and blues so beautiful that afternoon, +that I would have given them my vote just then before the sweetest pipe +in all the spring woods. For indeed there is no piece of colour of the +same extent in nature, that will so flatter and satisfy the lust of a +man's eyes; and to come upon so many of them, after these acres of +stone-coloured heavens and russet woods, and grey-brown ploughlands and +white roads, was like going three whole days' journey to the southward, +or a month back into the summer. + +I was sorry to leave "Peacock Farm"--for so the place is called, after +the name of its splendid pensioners--and go forward again in the quiet +woods. It began to grow both damp and dusk under the beeches: and as the +day declined the colour faded out of the foliage: and shadow, without +form and void, took the place of all the fine tracery of leaves and +delicate gradations of living green that had before accompanied my walk. +I had been sorry to leave "Peacock Farm," but I was not sorry to find +myself once more in the open road, under a pale and somewhat +troubled-looking evening sky, and put my best foot foremost for the inn +at Wendover. + +Wendover, in itself, is a straggling, purposeless sort of place. +Everybody seems to have had his own opinion as to how the street should +go; or rather, every now and then a man seems to have arisen with a new +idea on the subject, and led away a little sect of neighbours to join in +his heresy. It would have somewhat the look of an abortive +watering-place, such as we may now see them here and there along the +coast, but for the age of the houses, the comely quiet design of some of +them, and the look of long habitation, of a life that is settled and +rooted, and makes it worth while to train flowers about the windows, and +otherwise shape the dwelling to the humour of the inhabitant. The +church, which might perhaps have served as rallying-point for these +loose houses, and pulled the township into something like intelligible +unity, stands some distance off among great trees; but the inn (to take +the public buildings in order of importance) is in what I understand to +be the principal street: a pleasant old house, with bay windows, and +three peaked gables, and many swallows' nests plastered about the eaves. + +The interior of the inn was answerable to the outside: indeed, I never +saw any room much more to be admired than the low wainscoted parlour in +which I spent the remainder of the evening. It was a short oblong in +shape, save that the fireplace was built across one of the angles so as +to cut it partially off, and the opposite angle was similarly truncated +by a corner cupboard. The wainscot was white, and there was a Turkey +carpet on the floor, so old that it might have been imported by Walter +Shandy before he retired, worn almost through in some places, but in +others making a good show of blues and oranges, none the less harmonious +for being somewhat faded. The corner cupboard was agreeable in design; +and there were just the right things upon the shelves--decanters and +tumblers, and blue plates, and one red rose in a glass of water. The +furniture was old-fashioned and stiff. Everything was in keeping, down +to the ponderous leaden inkstand on the round table. And you may fancy +how pleasant it looked all flushed and flickered over by the light of a +brisk companionable fire, and seen, in a strange, tilted sort of +perspective, in the three compartments of the old mirror above the +chimney. As I sat reading in the great arm-chair, I kept looking round +with the tail of my eye at the quaint, bright picture that was about me, +and could not help some pleasure and a certain childish pride in forming +part of it. The book I read was about Italy in the early Renaissance, +the pageantries and the light loves of princes, the passion of men for +learning, and poetry, and art; but it was written, by good luck, after a +solid, prosaic fashion, that suited the room infinitely more nearly than +the matter; and the result was that I thought less, perhaps, of Lippo +Lippi, or Lorenzo, or Politian, than of the good Englishman who had +written in that volume what he knew of them, and taken so much pleasure +in his solemn polysyllables. + +I was not left without society. My landlord had a very pretty little +daughter whom we shall call Lizzie. If I had made any notes at the time, +I might be able to tell you something definite of her appearance. But +faces have a trick of growing more and more spiritualised and abstract +in the memory, until nothing remains of them but a look, a haunting +expression; just that secret quality in a face that is apt to slip out +somehow under the cunningest painter's touch, and leave the portrait +dead for the lack of it. And if it is hard to catch with the finest of +camel's hair pencils, you may think how hopeless it must be to pursue +after it with clumsy words. If I say, for instance, that this look, +which I remember as Lizzie, was something wistful that seemed partly to +come of slyness and in part of simplicity, and that I am inclined to +imagine it had something to do with the daintiest suspicion of a cast in +one of her large eyes, I shall have said all that I can, and the reader +will not be much advanced towards comprehension. I had struck up an +acquaintance with this little damsel in the morning, and professed much +interest in her dolls, and an impatient desire to see the large one +which was kept locked away for great occasions. And so I had not been +very long in the parlour before the door opened, and in came Miss Lizzie +with two dolls tucked clumsily under her arm. She was followed by her +brother John, a year or so younger than herself, not simply to play +propriety at our interview, but to show his own two whips in emulation +of his sister's dolls. I did my best to make myself agreeable to my +visitors, showing much admiration for the dolls and dolls' dresses, and, +with a very serious demeanour, asking many questions about their age and +character. I did not think that Lizzie distrusted my sincerity, but it +was evident she was both bewildered and a little contemptuous. Although +she was ready herself to treat her dolls as if they were alive, she +seemed to think rather poorly of any grown person who could fall +heartily into the spirit of the fiction. Sometimes she would look at me +with gravity and a sort of disquietude, as though she really feared I +must be out of my wits. Sometimes, as when I inquired too particularly +into the question of their names, she laughed at me so long and heartily +that I began to feel almost embarrassed. But when, in an evil moment, I +asked to be allowed to kiss one of them, she could keep herself no +longer to herself. Clambering down from the chair on which she sat +perched to show me, Cornelia-like, her jewels, she ran straight out of +the room and into the bar--it was just across the passage,--and I could +hear her telling her mother in loud tones, but apparently more in sorrow +than in merriment, that _the gentleman in the parlour wanted to kiss +Dolly_. I fancy she was determined to save me from this humiliating +action, even in spite of myself, for she never gave me the desired +permission. She reminded me of an old dog I once knew, who would never +suffer the master of the house to dance, out of an exaggerated sense of +the dignity of that master's place and carriage. + +After the young people were gone there was but one more incident ere I +went to bed. I heard a party of children go up and down the dark street +for a while, singing together sweetly. And the mystery of this little +incident was so pleasant to me that I purposely refrained from asking +who they were, and wherefore they went singing at so late an hour. One +can rarely be in a pleasant place without meeting with some pleasant +accident. I have a conviction that these children would not have gone +singing before the inn unless the inn-parlour had been the delightful +place it was. At least, if I had been in the customary public room of +the modern hotel, with all its disproportions and discomforts, my ears +would have been dull, and there would have been some ugly temper or +other uppermost in my spirit, and so they would have wasted their songs +upon an unworthy hearer. + +Next morning I went along to visit the church. It is a long-backed +red-and-white building, very much restored, and stands in a pleasant +graveyard among those great trees of which I have spoken already. The +sky was drowned in a mist. Now and again pulses of cold wind went about +the enclosure, and set the branches busy overhead, and the dead leaves +scurrying in to the angles of the church buttresses. Now and again, +also, I could hear the dull sudden fall of a chestnut among the +grass--the dog would bark before the rectory door--or there would come a +clinking of pails from the stable-yard behind. But in spite of these +occasional interruptions--in spite, also, of the continuous autumn +twittering that filled the trees--the chief impression somehow was one +as of utter silence, inasmuch that the little greenish bell that peeped +out of a window in the tower disquieted me with a sense of some possible +and more inharmonious disturbance. The grass was wet, as if with a +hoar-frost that had just been melted. I do not know that ever I saw a +morning more autumnal. As I went to and fro among the graves, I saw some +flowers set reverently before a recently erected tomb, and drawing near +was almost startled to find they lay on the grave of a man seventy-two +years old when he died. We are accustomed to strew flowers only over the +young, where love has been cut short untimely, and great possibilities +have been restrained by death. We strew them there in token that these +possibilities, in some deeper sense, shall yet be realised, and the +touch of our dead loves remain with us and guide us to the end. And yet +there was more significance, perhaps, and perhaps a greater consolation, +in this little nosegay on the grave of one who had died old. We are apt +to make so much of the tragedy of death, and think so little of the +enduring tragedy of some men's lives, that we see more to lament for in +a life cut off in the midst of usefulness and love, than in one that +miserably survives all love and usefulness, and goes about the world the +phantom of itself, without hope, or joy, or any consolation. These +flowers seemed not so much the token of love that survived death, as of +something yet more beautiful--of love that had lived a man's life out to +an end with him, and been faithful and companionable, and not weary of +loving, throughout all these years. + +The morning cleared a little, and the sky was once more the old +stone-coloured vault over the sallow meadows and the russet woods, as I +set forth on a dog-cart from Wendover to Tring. The road lay for a good +distance along the side of the hills, with the great plain below on one +hand, and the beech-woods above on the other. The fields were busy with +people ploughing and sowing; every here and there a jug of ale stood in +the angle of the hedge, and I could see many a team wait smoking in the +furrow as ploughman or sower stepped aside for a moment to take a +draught. Over all the brown ploughlands, and under all the leafless +hedgerows, there was a stout piece of labour abroad, and, as it were, a +spirit of picnic. The horses smoked and the men laboured and shouted and +drank in the sharp autumn morning; so that one had a strong effect of +large, open-air existence. The fellow who drove me was something of a +humorist; and his conversation was all in praise of an agricultural +labourer's way of life. It was he who called my attention to these jugs +of ale by the hedgerow; he could not sufficiently express the liberality +of these men's wages; he told me how sharp an appetite was given by +breaking up the earth in the morning air, whether with plough or spade, +and cordially admired this provision of nature. He sang _O fortunatos +agricolas_! indeed, in every possible key, and with many cunning +inflections, till I began to wonder what was the use of such people as +Mr. Arch, and to sing the same air myself in a more diffident manner. + +Tring was reached, and then Tring railway station; for the two are not +very near, the good people of Tring having held the railway, of old +days, in extreme apprehension, lest some day it should break loose in +the town and work mischief. I had a last walk, among russet beeches as +usual, and the air filled, as usual, with the carolling of larks; I +heard shots fired in the distance, and saw, as a new sign of the +fulfilled autumn, two horsemen exercising a pack of fox-hounds. And then +the train came and carried me back to London. + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [40] I had nearly finished the transcription of the following pages, + when I saw on a friend's table the number containing the piece from + which this sentence is extracted, and, struck with a similarity of + title, took it home with me and read it with indescribable + satisfaction. I do not know whether I more envy M. Theuriet the + pleasure of having written this delightful article, or the reader + the pleasure, which I hope he has still before him, of reading it + once and again, and lingering over the passages that please him + most. + + + + +VII + +A WINTER'S WALK IN CARRICK AND GALLOWAY + +(_A Fragment_: 1876) + + +At the famous bridge of Doon, Kyle, the central district of the shire of +Ayr, marches with Carrick, the most southerly. On the Carrick side of +the river rises a hill of somewhat gentle conformation, cleft with +shallow dells, and sown here and there with farms and tufts of wood. +Inland, it loses itself, joining, I suppose, the great herd of similar +hills that occupies the centre of the Lowlands. Towards the sea, it +swells out the coast-line into a protuberance, like a bay window in a +plan, and is fortified against the surf behind bold crags. This hill is +known as the Brown Hill of Carrick, or, more shortly, Brown Carrick. + +It had snowed overnight. The fields were all sheeted up; they were +tucked in among the snow, and their shape was modelled through the +pliant counterpane, like children tucked in by a fond mother. The wind +had made ripples and folds upon the surface, like what the sea, in quiet +weather, leaves upon the sand. There was a frosty stifle in the air. An +effusion of coppery light on the summit of Brown Carrick showed where +the sun was trying to look through; but along the horizon clouds of cold +fog had settled down, so that there was no distinction of sky and sea. +Over the white shoulders of the headlands, or in the opening of bays, +there was nothing but a great vacancy and blackness; and the road as it +drew near the edge of the cliff seemed to skirt the shores of creation +and void space. + +The snow crunched underfoot, and at farms all the dogs broke out barking +as they smelt a passer-by upon the road. I met a fine old fellow, who +might have sat as the father in "The Cottar's Saturday Night," and who +swore most heathenishly at a cow he was driving. And a little after I +scraped acquaintance with a poor body tramping out to gather cockles. +His face was wrinkled by exposure; it was broken up into flakes and +channels, like mud beginning to dry, and weathered in two colours, an +incongruous pink and grey. He had a faint air of being surprised--which, +God knows, he might well be--that life had gone so ill with him. The +shape of his trousers was in itself a jest, so strangely were they +bagged and ravelled about his knees; and his coat was all bedaubed with +clay as though he had lain in a rain-dub during the New Year's +festivity. I will own I was not sorry to think he had had a merry New +Year, and been young again for an evening; but I was sorry to see the +mark still there. One could not expect such an old gentleman to be much +of a dandy, or a great student of respectability in dress; but there +might have been a wife at home, who had brushed out similar stains after +fifty New Years, now become old, or a round-armed daughter, who would +wish to have him neat, were it only out of self-respect and for the +ploughman sweetheart when he looks round at night. Plainly, there was +nothing of this in his life, and years and loneliness hung heavily on +his old arms. He was seventy-six, he told me; and nobody would give a +day's work to a man that age: they would think he couldn't do it. "And, +'deed," he went on, with a sad little chuckle, "'deed, I doubt if I +could." He said good-bye to me at a foot-path, and crippled wearily off +to his work. It will make your heart ache if you think of his old +fingers groping in the snow. + +He told me I was to turn down beside the school-house for Dunure. And +so, when I found a lone house among the snow, and heard a babble of +childish voices from within, I struck off into a steep road leading +downwards to the sea. Dunure lies close under the steep hill: a haven +among the rocks, a breakwater in consummate disrepair, much apparatus +for drying nets, and a score or so of fishers' houses. Hard by, a few +shards of ruined castle overhang the sea, a few vaults, and one tall +gable honeycombed with windows. The snow lay on the beach to the +tide-mark. It was daubed on to the sills of the ruin; it roosted in the +crannies of the rock like white sea-birds; even on outlying reefs there +would be a little cock of snow, like a toy lighthouse. Everything was +grey and white in a cold and dolorous sort of shepherd's plaid. In the +profound silence, broken only by the noise of oars at sea, a horn was +sounded twice; and I saw the postman, girt with two bags, pause a moment +at the end of the clachan for letters. It is, perhaps, characteristic of +Dunure that none were brought him. + +The people at the public-house did not seem well pleased to see me, and +though I would fain have stayed by the kitchen fire, sent me "ben the +hoose" into the guest-room. This guest-room at Dunure was painted in +quite aesthetic fashion. There are rooms in the same taste not a hundred +miles from London, where persons of an extreme sensibility meet together +without embarrassment. It was all in a fine dull bottle-green and black; +a grave harmonious piece of colouring, with nothing, so far as coarser +folk can judge, to hurt the better feelings of the most exquisite +purist. A cherry-red half window-blind kept up an imaginary warmth in +the cold room, and threw quite a glow on the floor. Twelve cockle-shells +and a halfpenny china figure were ranged solemnly along the +mantel-shelf. Even the spittoon was an original note, and instead of +sawdust contained sea-shells. And as for the hearthrug, it would merit +an article to itself, and a coloured diagram to help the text. It was +patchwork, but the patchwork of the poor; no glowing shreds of old +brocade and Chinese silk, shaken together in the kaleidoscope of some +tasteful housewife's fancy; but a work of art in its own way, and +plainly a labour of love. The patches came exclusively from people's +raiment. There was no colour more brilliant than a heather mixture; "My +Johnnie's grey breeks," well polished over the oar on the boat's +thwart, entered largely into its composition. And the spoils of an old +black cloth coat, that had been many a Sunday to church, added something +(save the mark!) of preciousness to the material. + +While I was at luncheon four carters came in--long-limbed, muscular +Ayrshire Scots, with lean, intelligent faces. Four quarts of stout were +ordered; they kept filling the tumbler with the other hand as they +drank; and in less time than it takes me to write these words the four +quarts were finished--another round was proposed, discussed, and +negatived--and they were creaking out of the village with their carts. + +The ruins drew you towards them. You never saw any place more desolate +from a distance, nor one that less belied its promise near at hand. Some +crows and gulls flew away croaking as I scrambled in. The snow had +drifted into the vaults. The clachan dabbled with snow, the white hills, +the black sky, the sea marked in the coves with faint circular wrinkles, +the whole world, as it looked from a loop-hole in Dunure, was cold, +wretched, and out-at-elbows. If you had been a wicked baron and +compelled to stay there all the afternoon, you would have had a rare fit +of remorse. How you would have heaped up the fire and gnawed your +fingers! I think it would have come to homicide before the evening--if +it were only for the pleasure of seeing something red! And the masters +of Dunure, it is to be noticed, were remarkable of old for inhumanity. +One of these vaults where the snow had drifted was that "black voute" +where "Mr. Alane Stewart, Commendatour of Crossraguel," endured his +fiery trials. On the 1st and 7th of September 1570 (ill dates for Mr. +Alan!), Gilbert, Earl of Cassilis, his chaplain, his baker, his cook, +his pantryman, and another servant, bound the poor Commendator "betwix +an iron chimlay and a fire," and there cruelly roasted him until he +signed away his abbacy. It is one of the ugliest stories of an ugly +period, but not, somehow, without such a flavour of the ridiculous as +makes it hard to sympathise quite seriously with the victim. And it is +consoling to remember that he got away at last, and kept his abbacy, +and, over and above, had a pension from the Earl until he died. + +Some way beyond Dunure a wide bay, of somewhat less unkindly aspect, +opened out. Colzean plantations lay all along the steep shore, and there +was a wooded hill towards the centre, where the trees made a sort of +shadowy etching over the snow. The road went down and up, and past a +blacksmith's cottage that made fine music in the valley. Three +compatriots of Burns drove up to me in a cart. They were all drunk, and +asked me jeeringly if this was the way to Dunure. I told them it was; +and my answer was received with unfeigned merriment. One gentleman was +so much tickled he nearly fell out of the cart; indeed, he was only +saved by a companion, who either had not so fine a sense of humour or +had drunken less. + +"The toune of Mayboll," says the inimitable Abercrummie,[41] "stands +upon an ascending ground from east to west, and lyes open to the south. +It hath one principall street, with houses upon both sides, built of +freestone, and it is beautifyed with the situation of two castles, one +at each end of this street. That on the east belongs to the Erle of +Cassilis. On the west end is a castle, which belonged sometime to the +laird of Blairquan, which is now the tolbuith, and is adorned with a +pyremide [conical roof], and a row of ballesters round it raised from +the top of the staircase, into which they have mounted a fyne clock. +There be four lanes which pass from the principall street; one is called +the Back Vennel, which is steep, declining to the south-west, and leads +to a lower street, which is far larger than the high chiefe street, and +it runs from the Kirkland to the Well Trees, in which there have been +many pretty buildings, belonging to the severall gentry of the +countrey, who were wont to resort thither in winter, and divert +themselves in converse together at their owne houses. It was once the +principall street of the town; but many of these houses of the gentry +having been decayed and ruined, it has lost much of its ancient beautie. +Just opposite to this vennel, there is another that leads north-west, +from the chiefe street to the green, which is a pleasant plott of +ground, enclosed round with an earthen wall, wherein they were wont to +play football, but now at the Gowff and byasse-bowls. The houses of this +towne, on both sides of the street, have their several gardens belonging +to them; and in the lower street there be some pretty orchards, that +yield store of good fruit." As Patterson says, this description is near +enough even to-day, and is mighty nicely written to boot. I am bound to +add, of my own experience, that Maybole is tumble-down and dreary. +Prosperous enough in reality, it has an air of decay; and though the +population has increased, a roofless house every here and there seems to +protest the contrary. The women are more than well-favoured, and the men +fine tall fellows; but they look slipshod and dissipated. As they +slouched at street corners, or stood about gossiping in the snow, it +seemed they would have been more at home in the slums of a large city +than here in a country place betwixt a village and a town. I heard a +great deal about drinking, and a great deal about religious revivals: +two things in which the Scottish character is emphatic and most +unlovely. In particular, I heard of clergymen who were employing their +time in explaining to a delighted audience the physics of the Second +Coming. It is not very likely any of us will be asked to help. If we +were, it is likely we should receive instructions for the occasion, and +that on more reliable authority. And so I can only figure to myself a +congregation truly curious in such flights of theological fancy, as one +of veteran and accomplished saints, who have fought the good fight to an +end and outlived all worldly passion, and are to be regarded rather as +a part of the Church Triumphant than the poor, imperfect company on +earth. And yet I saw some young fellows about the smoking-room who +seemed, in the eyes of one who cannot count himself strait-laced, in +need of some more practical sort of teaching. They seemed only eager to +get drunk, and to do so speedily. It was not much more than a week after +the New Year; and to hear them return on their past bouts with a gusto +unspeakable was not altogether pleasing. Here is one snatch of talk, for +the accuracy of which I can vouch-- + +"Ye had a spree here last Tuesday?" + +"We had that!" + +"I wasna able to be oot o' my bed. Man, I was awful bad on Wednesday." + +"Ay, ye were gey bad." + +And you should have seen the bright eyes, and heard the sensual accents! +They recalled their doings with devout gusto and a sort of rational +pride. Schoolboys, after their first drunkenness, are not more boastful; +a cock does not plume himself with a more unmingled satisfaction as he +paces forth among his harem; and yet these were grown men, and by no +means short of wit. It was hard to suppose they were very eager about +the Second Coming: it seemed as if some elementary notions of temperance +for the men and seemliness for the women would have gone nearer the +mark. And yet, as it seemed to me typical of much that is evil in +Scotland, Maybole is also typical of much that is best. Some of the +factories, which have taken the place of weaving in the town's economy, +were originally founded and are still possessed by self-made men of the +sterling, stout old breed--fellows who made some little bit of an +invention, borrowed some little pocketful of capital, and then, step by +step, in courage, thrift, and industry, fought their way upward to an +assured position. + +Abercrummie has told you enough of the Tolbooth; but, as a bit of +spelling, this inscription on the Tolbooth bell seems too delicious to +withhold: "This bell is founded at Maiboll Bi Danel Geli, a Frenchman, +the 6th November 1696, Bi appointment of the heritors of the parish of +Maiyboll." The Castle deserves more notice. It is a large and shapely +tower, plain from the ground upward, but with a zone of ornamentation +running about the top. In a general way this adornment is perched on the +very summit of the chimney-stacks; but there is one corner more +elaborate than the rest. A very heavy string-course runs round the upper +story, and just above this, facing up the street, the tower carries a +small oriel window, fluted and corbelled and carved about with stone +heads. It is so ornate it has somewhat the air of a shrine. And it was, +indeed, the casket of a very precious jewel, for in the room to which it +gives light lay, for long years, the heroine of the sweet old ballad of +"Johnnie Faa"--she who, at the call of the gipsies' songs, "came +tripping down the stair, and all her maids before her." Some people say +the ballad has no basis in fact, and have written, I believe, +unanswerable papers to the proof. But in the face of all that, the very +look of that high oriel window convinces the imagination, and we enter +into all the sorrows of the imprisoned dame. We conceive the burthen of +the long, lack-lustre days, when she leaned her sick head against the +mullions, and saw the burghers loafing in Maybole High Street, and the +children at play, and ruffling gallants riding by from hunt or foray. We +conceive the passion of odd moments, when the wind threw up to her some +snatch of song, and her heart grew hot within her, and her eyes +overflowed at the memory of the past. And even if the tale be not true +of this or that lady, or this or that old tower, it is true in the +essence of all men and women: for all of us, some time or other, hear +the gipsies singing; over all of us is the glamour cast. Some resist and +sit resolutely by the fire. Most go and are brought back again, like +Lady Cassilis. A few, of the tribe of Waring, go and are seen no more; +only now and again, at springtime, when the gipsies' song is afloat in +the amethyst evening, we can catch their voices in the glee. + +By night it was clearer, and Maybole more visible than during the day. +Clouds coursed over the sky in great masses; the full moon battled the +other way, and lit up the snow with gleams of flying silver; the town +came down the hill in a cascade of brown gables, bestridden by smooth +white roofs, and spangled here and there with lighted windows. At either +end the snow stood high up in the darkness, on the peak of the Tolbooth +and among the chimneys of the Castle. As the moon flashed a bull's-eye +glitter across the town between the racing clouds, the white roofs +leaped into relief over the gables and the chimney-stacks, and their +shadows over the white roofs. In the town itself the lit face of the +clock peered down the street; an hour was hammered out on Mr. Geli's +bell, and from behind the red curtains of a public-house some one +trolled out--a compatriot of Burns, again!--"The saut tear blin's my +e'e." + +Next morning there were sun and a flapping wind. From the street-corners +of Maybole I could catch breezy glimpses of green fields. The road +underfoot was wet and heavy--part ice, part snow, part water; and any +one I met greeted me, by way of salutation, with "A fine thowe" (thaw). +My way lay among rather bleak hills, and past bleak ponds and +dilapidated castles and monasteries, to the Highland-looking village of +Kirkoswald. It has little claim to notice save that Burns came there to +study surveying in the summer of 1777, and there also, in the kirkyard, +the original of Tam o' Shanter sleeps his last sleep. It is worth +noticing, however, that this was the first place I thought +"Highland-looking." Over the hill from Kirkoswald a farm-road leads to +the coast. As I came down above Turnberry, the sea view was indeed +strangely different from the day before. The cold fogs were all blown +away; and there was Ailsa Craig, like a refraction, magnified and +deformed, of the Bass Rock; and there were the chiselled mountain tops +of Arran, veined and tipped with snow; and behind, and fainter, the low, +blue land of Cantyre. Cottony clouds stood, in a great castle, over the +top of Arran, and blew out in long streamers to the south. The sea was +bitten all over with white; little ships, tacking up and down the Firth, +lay over at different angles in the wind. On Shanter they were ploughing +lea; a cart foal, all in a field by himself, capered and whinnied as if +the spring were in him. + +The road from Turnberry to Girvan lies along the shore, among sandhills +and by wildernesses of tumbled bent. Every here and there a few cottages +stood together beside a bridge. They had one odd feature, not easy to +describe in words: a triangular porch projected from above the door, +supported at the apex by a single upright post; a secondary door was +hinged to the post, and could be hasped on either cheek of the real +entrance; so, whether the wind was north or south, the cotter could make +himself a triangular bight of shelter where to set his chair and finish +a pipe with comfort. There is one objection to this device: for, as the +post stands in the middle of the fairway, any one precipitately issuing +from the cottage must run his chance of a broken head. So far as I am +aware, it is peculiar to the little corner of country about Girvan. And +that corner is noticeable for more reasons: it is certainly one of the +most characteristic districts in Scotland. It has this movable porch by +way of architecture; it has, as we shall see, a sort of remnant of +provincial costume, and it has the handsomest population in the +Lowlands.... + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [41] William Abercrombie. See _Fasti Ecclesiae Scoticanae_, under + "Maybole" (Part iii.). + + + + +VIII + +FOREST NOTES + +(1875-6) + +ON THE PLAIN + + +Perhaps the reader knows already the aspect of the great levels of the +Gatinais, where they border with the wooded hills of Fontainebleau. Here +and there a few grey rocks creep out of the forest as if to sun +themselves. Here and there a few apple-trees stand together on a knoll. +The quaint, undignified tartan of a myriad small fields dies out into +the distance; the strips blend and disappear; and the dead flat lies +forth open and empty, with no accident save perhaps a thin line of trees +or faint church-spire against the sky. Solemn and vast at all times, in +spite of pettiness in the near details, the impression becomes more +solemn and vast towards evening. The sun goes down, a swollen orange, as +it were into the sea. A blue-clad peasant rides home, with a harrow +smoking behind him among the dry clods. Another still works with his +wife in their little strip. An immense shadow fills the plain; these +people stand in it up to their shoulders; and their heads, as they stoop +over their work and rise again, are relieved from time to time against +the golden sky. + +These peasant farmers are well off nowadays, and not by any means +overworked; but somehow you always see in them the historical +representative of the serf of yore, and think not so much of present +times, which may be prosperous enough, as of the old days when the +peasant was taxed beyond possibility of payment, and lived, in +Michelet's image, like a hare between two furrows. These very people now +weeding their patch under the broad sunset, that very man and his wife, +it seems to us, have suffered all the wrongs of France. It is they who +have been their country's scape-goat for long ages; they who, generation +after generation, have sowed and not reaped, reaped and another has +garnered; and who have now entered into their reward, and enjoy their +good things in their turn. For the days are gone by when the Seigneur +ruled and profited. "Le Seigneur," says the old formula, "enferme ses +manants comme sous porte et gonds, du ciel a la terre. Tout est a lui, +foret chenue, oiseau dans l'air, poisson dans l'eau, bete au buisson, +l'onde qui coule, la cloche dont le son au loin roule." Such was his old +state of sovereignty, a local god rather than a mere king. And now you +may ask yourself where he is, and look round for vestiges of my late +lord, and in all the country-side there is no trace of him but his +forlorn and fallen mansion. At the end of a long avenue, now sown with +grain, in the midst of a close full of cypresses and lilacs, ducks and +crowing chanticleers and droning bees, the old chateau lifts its red +chimneys and peaked roofs and turning vanes into the wind and sun. There +is a glad spring bustle in the air, perhaps, and the lilacs are all in +flower, and the creepers green about the broken balustrade; but no +spring shall revive the honour of the place. Old women of the people, +little children of the people, saunter and gambol in the walled court or +feed the ducks in the neglected moat. Plough-horses, mighty of limb, +browse in the long stables. The dial-hand on the clock waits for some +better hour. Out on the plain, where hot sweat trickles into men's eyes, +and the spade goes in deep and comes up slowly, perhaps the peasant may +feel a movement of joy at his heart when he thinks that these spacious +chimneys are now cold, which have so often blazed and flickered upon gay +folk at supper, while he and his hollow-eyed children watched through +the night with empty bellies and cold feet. And perhaps, as he raises +his head and sees the forest lying like a coast-line of low hills along +the sea-like level of the plain, perhaps forest and chateau hold no +unsimilar place in his affections. + +If the chateau was my lord's the forest was my lord the king's; neither +of them for this poor Jacques. If he thought to eke out his meagre way +of life by some petty theft of wood for the fire, or for a new +roof-tree, he found himself face to face with a whole department, from +the Grand Master of the Woods and Waters, who was a high-born lord, down +to the common sergeant, who was a peasant like himself, and wore stripes +or bandolier by way of uniform. For the first offence, by the Salic law, +there was a fine of fifteen sols; and should a man be taken more than +once in fault, or circumstances aggravate the colour of his guilt, he +might be whipped, branded, or hanged. There was a hangman over at Melun, +and, I doubt not, a fine tall gibbet hard by the town gate, where +Jacques might see his fellows dangle against the sky as he went to +market. + +And then, if he lived near to a cover, there would be the more hares and +rabbits to eat out his harvest, and the more hunters to trample it down. +My lord has a new horn from England. He has laid out seven francs in +decorating it with silver and gold, and fitting it with a silken leash +to hang about his shoulder. The hounds have been on a pilgrimage to the +shrine of Saint Mesmer, or Saint Hubert in the Ardennes, or some other +holy intercessor who has made a speciality of the health of +hunting-dogs. In the grey dawn the game was turned and the branch broken +by our best piqueur. A rare day's hunting lies before us. Wind a jolly +flourish, sound the _bien-aller_ with all your lungs. Jacques must stand +by, hat in hand, while the quarry and hound and huntsman sweep across +his field, and a year's sparing and labouring is as though it had not +been. If he can see the ruin with a good enough grace, who knows but he +may fall in favour with my lord; who knows but his son may become the +last and least among the servants at his lordship's kennel--one of the +two poor varlets who get no wages and sleep at night among the +hounds?[42] + +For all that, the forest has been of use to Jacques, not only warming +him with fallen wood, but giving him shelter in days of sore trouble, +when my lord of the chateau, with all his troopers and trumpets, had +been beaten from field after field into some ultimate fastness, or lay +overseas in an English prison. In these dark days, when the watch on the +church steeple saw the smoke of burning villages on the sky-line, or a +clump of spears and fluttering pennon drawing nigh across the plain, +these good folk gat them up, with all their household gods, into the +wood, whence, from some high spur, their timid scouts might overlook the +coming and going of the marauders, and see the harvest ridden down, and +church and cottage go up to heaven all night in flame. It was but an +unhomely refuge that the woods afforded, where they must abide all +change of weather and keep house with wolves and vipers. Often there was +none left alive, when they returned, to show the old divisions of field +from field. And yet, as times went, when the wolves entered at night +into depopulated Paris, and perhaps De Retz was passing by with a +company of demons like himself, even in these caves and thickets there +were glad hearts and grateful prayers. + +Once or twice, as I say, in the course of the ages, the forest may have +served the peasant well, but at heart it is a royal forest, and noble by +old association. These woods have rung to the horns of all the kings of +France, from Philip Augustus downwards. They have seen St. Louis +exercise the dogs he brought with him from Egypt; Francis I. go +a-hunting with ten thousand horses in his train; and Peter of Russia +following his first stag. And so they are still haunted for the +imagination by royal hunts and progresses, and peopled with the faces +of memorable men of yore. And this distinction is not only in virtue of +the pastime of dead monarchs. Great events, great revolutions, great +cycles in the affairs of men, have here left their note, here taken +shape in some significant and dramatic situation. It was hence that +Guise and his leaguers led Charles the Ninth a prisoner to Paris. Here, +booted and spurred, and with all his dogs about him, Napoleon met the +Pope beside a woodland cross. Here, on his way to Elba, not so long +after, he kissed the eagle of the Old Guard, and spoke words of +passionate farewell to his soldiers. And here, after Waterloo, rather +than yield its ensign to the new power, one of his faithful regiments +burned that memorial of so much toil and glory on the Grand Master's +table, and drank its dust in brandy, as a devout priest consumes the +remnants of the Host. + + +IN THE SEASON + +Close into the edge of the forest, so close that the trees of the +_bornage_ stand pleasantly about the last houses, sits a certain small +and very quiet village. There is but one street, and that, not long ago, +was a green lane, where the cattle browsed between the doorsteps. As you +go up this street, drawing ever nearer the beginning of the wood, you +will arrive at last before an inn where artists lodge. To the door (for +I imagine it to be six o'clock on some fine summer's even), half a +dozen, or maybe half a score, of people have brought out chairs, and now +sit sunning themselves and waiting the omnibus from Melun. If you go on +into the court you will find as many more, some in the billiard-room +over absinthe and a match of corks, some without over a last cigar and a +vermouth. The doves coo and flutter from the dovecot; Hortense is +drawing water from the well; and as all the rooms open into the court, +you can see the white-capped cook over the furnace in the kitchen, and +some idle painter, who has stored his canvases and washed his brushes, +jangling a waltz on the crazy, tongue-tied piano in the salle-a-manger. +"_Edmond, encore un vermouth_," cries a man in velveteen, adding in a +tone of apologetic after-thought, "_un double, s'il vous plait_." "Where +are you working?" asks one in pure white linen from top to toe. "At the +Garrefour de l'Epine," returns the other in corduroy (they are all +gaitered, by the way). "I couldn't do a thing to it. I ran out of white. +Where were you?" "I wasn't working. I was looking for motives." Here is +an outbreak of jubilation, and a lot of men clustering together about +some new-comer with outstretched hands; perhaps the "correspondence" has +come in and brought So-and-so from Paris, or perhaps it is only +So-and-so who has walked over from Chailly to dinner. + +"_A table, Messieurs!_" cries M. Siron, bearing through the court the +first tureen of soup. And immediately the company begins to settle down +about the long tables in the dining-room, framed all round with sketches +of all degrees of merit and demerit. There's the big picture of the +huntsman winding a horn with a dead boar between his legs, and his +legs--well, his legs in stockings. And here is the little picture of a +raw mutton-chop, in which Such-a-one knocked a hole last summer with no +worse a missile than a plum from the dessert. And under all these works +of art so much eating goes forward, so much drinking, so much jabbering +in French and English, that it would do your heart good merely to peep +and listen at the door. One man is telling how they all went last year +to the fete at Fleury, and another how well So-and-so would sing of an +evening; and here are a third and fourth making plans for the whole +future of their lives; and there is a fifth imitating a conjuror making +faces on his clenched fist, surely of all arts the most difficult and +admirable! A sixth has eaten his fill, lights a cigarette, and resigns +himself to digestion. A seventh has just dropped in, and calls for +soup. Number eight, meanwhile, has left the table, and is once more +trampling the poor piano under powerful and uncertain fingers. + +Dinner over, people drop outside to smoke and chat. Perhaps we go along +to visit our friends at the other end of the village, where there is +always a good welcome and a good talk, and perhaps some pickled oysters +and white wine to close the evening. Or a dance is organised in the +dining-room, and the piano exhibits all its paces under manful +jockeying, to the light of three or four candles and a lamp or two, +while the waltzers move to and fro upon the wooden floor, and sober men, +who are not given to such light pleasures, get up on the table or the +sideboard, and sit there looking on approvingly over a pipe and a +tumbler of wine. Or sometimes--suppose my lady moon looks forth, and the +court from out the half-lit dining-room seems nearly as bright as by +day, and the light picks out the window-panes, and makes a clear shadow +under every vine leaf on the wall--sometimes a picnic is proposed, and a +basket made ready, and a good procession formed in front of the hotel. +The two trumpeters in honour go before; and as we file down the long +alley, and up through devious footpaths among rocks and pine-trees, with +every here and there a dark passage of shadow, and every here and there +a spacious outlook over moonlit woods, these two precede us and sound +many a jolly flourish as they walk. We gather ferns and dry boughs into +the cavern, and soon a good blaze flutters the shadows of the old +bandits' haunt, and shows shapely beards and comely faces and toilettes +ranged about the wall. The bowl is lit, and the punch is burnt and sent +round in scalding thimblefuls. So a good hour or two may pass with song +and jest. And then we go home in the moonlight morning, straggling a +good deal among the birch tufts and the boulders, but ever called +together again, as one of our leaders winds his horn. Perhaps some one +of the party will not heed the summons, but chooses out some by-way of +his own. As he follows the winding sandy road, he hears the flourishes +grow fainter and fainter in the distance, and die finally out, and still +walks on in the strange coolness and silence and between the crisp +lights and shadows of the moonlit woods, until suddenly the bell rings +out the hour from far-away Chailly, and he starts to find himself alone. +No surf-bell on forlorn and perilous shores, no passing knell over the +busy market-place, can speak with a more heavy and disconsolate tongue +to human ears. Each stroke calls up a host of ghostly reverberations in +his mind. And as he stands rooted, it has grown once more so utterly +silent that it seems to him he might hear the church-bells ring the hour +out all the world over, not at Chailly only, but in Paris, and away in +outlandish cities, and in the village on the river, where his childhood +passed between the sun and flowers. + + +IDLE HOURS + +The woods by night, in all their uncanny effect, are not rightly to be +understood until you can compare them with the woods by day. The +stillness of the medium, the floor of glittering sand, these trees that +go streaming up like monstrous sea-weeds and waver in the moving winds +like the weeds in submarine currents, all these set the mind working on +the thought of what you may have seen off a foreland or over the side of +a boat, and make you feel like a diver, down in the quiet water, fathoms +below the tumbling, transitory surface of the sea. And yet in itself, as +I say, the strangeness of these nocturnal solitudes is not to be felt +fully without the sense of contrast. You must have risen in the morning +and seen the woods as they are by day, kindled and coloured in the sun's +light; you must have felt the odour of innumerable trees at even, the +unsparing heat along the forest roads, and the coolness of the groves. + +And on the first morning you will doubtless rise betimes. If you have +not been wakened before by the visit of some adventurous pigeon, you +will be wakened as soon as the sun can reach your window--for there are +no blinds or shutters to keep him out--and the room, with its bare wood +floor and bare whitewashed walls, shines all round you in a sort of +glory of reflected lights. You may doze a while longer by snatches, or +lie awake to study the charcoal men and dogs and horses with which +former occupants have defiled the partitions: Thiers, with wily profile; +local celebrities, pipe in hand; or, maybe, a romantic landscape +splashed in oil. Meanwhile artist after artist drops into the +salle-a-manger for coffee, and then shoulders easel, sunshade, stool, +and paint-box, bound into a fagot, and sets off for what he calls his +"motive." And artist after artist, as he goes out of the village, +carries with him a little following of dogs. For the dogs, who belong +only nominally to any special master, hang about the gate of the forest +all day long, and whenever any one goes by who hits their fancy, profit +by his escort, and go forth with him to play an hour or two at hunting. +They would like to be under the trees all day. But they cannot go alone. +They require a pretext. And so they take the passing artist as an excuse +to go into the woods, as they might take a walking-stick as an excuse to +bathe. With quick ears, long spines, and bandy legs, or perhaps as tall +as a greyhound and with a bulldog's head, this company of mongrels will +trot by your side all day and come home with you at night, still showing +white teeth and wagging stunted tail. Their good humour is not to be +exhausted. You may pelt them with stones if you please, all they will do +is to give you a wider berth. If once they come out with you, to you +they will remain faithful, and with you return; although if you meet +them next morning in the street, it is as like as not they will cut you +with a countenance of brass. + +The forest--a strange thing for an Englishman--is very destitute of +birds. This is no country where every patch of wood among the meadows +gives up an incense of song, and every valley wandered through by a +streamlet rings and reverberates from side to side with a profusion of +clear notes. And this rarity of birds is not to be regretted on its own +account only. For the insects prosper in their absence, and become as +one of the plagues of Egypt. Ants swarm in the hot sand; mosquitoes +drone their nasal drone; wherever the sun finds a hole in the roof of +the forest, you see a myriad transparent creatures coming and going in +the shaft of light; and even between-whiles, even where there is no +incursion of sun-rays into the dark arcade of the wood, you are +conscious of a continual drift of insects, an ebb and flow of +infinitesimal living things between the trees. Nor are insects the only +evil creatures that haunt the forest. For you may plump into a cave +among the rocks, and find yourself face to face with a wild boar, or see +a crooked viper slither across the road. + +Perhaps you may set yourself down in the bay between two spreading +beech-roots with a book on your lap, and be awakened all of a sudden by +a friend: "I say, just keep where you are, will you? You make the +jolliest motive." And you reply: "Well, I don't mind, if I may smoke." +And thereafter the hours go idly by. Your friend at the easel labours +doggedly a little way off, in the wide shadow of the tree; and yet +farther, across a strait of glaring sunshine, you see another painter, +encamped in the shadow of another tree, and up to his waist in the fern. +You cannot watch your own effigy growing out of the white trunk, and the +trunk beginning to stand forth from the rest of the wood, and the whole +picture getting dappled over with the flecks of sun that slip through +the leaves overhead, and, as a wind goes by and sets the trees +a-talking, flicker hither and thither like butterflies of light. But you +know it is going forward; and, out of emulation with the painter, get +ready your own palette, and lay out the colour for a woodland scene in +words. + +Your tree stands in a hollow paved with fern and heather, set in a +basin of low hills, and scattered over with rocks and junipers. All the +open is steeped in pitiless sunlight. Everything stands out as though it +were cut in cardboard, every colour is strained into its highest key. +The boulders are some of them upright and dead like monolithic castles, +some of them prone like sleeping cattle. The junipers--looking, in their +soiled and ragged mourning, like some funeral procession that has gone +seeking the place of sepulchre three hundred years and more in wind and +rain--are daubed in forcibly against the glowing ferns and heather. +Every tassel of their rusty foliage is defined with pre-Raphaelite +minuteness. And a sorry figure they make out there in the sun, like +misbegotten yew-trees! The scene is all pitched in a key of colour so +peculiar, and lit up with such a discharge of violent sunlight, as a man +might live fifty years in England and not see. + +Meanwhile at your elbow some one tunes up a song, words of Ronsard to a +pathetic tremulous air, of how the poet loved his mistress long ago, and +pressed on her the flight of time, and told her how white and quiet the +dead lay under the stones, and how the boat dipped and pitched as the +shades embarked for the passionless land. Yet a little while, sang the +poet, and there shall be no more love; only to sit and remember loves +that might have been. There is a falling flourish in the air that +remains in the memory and comes back in incongruous places, on the seat +of hansoms or in the warm bed at night, with something of a forest +savour. + +"You can get up now," says the painter; "I'm at the background." + +And so up you get, stretching yourself, and go your way into the wood, +the daylight becoming richer and more golden, and the shadows stretching +farther into the open. A cool air comes along the highways, and the +scents awaken. The fir-trees breathe abroad their ozone. Out of unknown +thickets comes forth the soft, secret, aromatic odour of the woods, not +like a smell of the free heaven, but as though court ladies, who had +known these paths in ages long gone by, still walked in the summer +evenings, and shed from their brocades a breath of musk or bergamot upon +the woodland winds. One side of the long avenues is still kindled with +the sun, the other is plunged in transparent shadow. Over the trees the +west begins to burn like a furnace; and the painters gather up their +chattels, and go down, by avenue or footpath, to the plain. + + +A PLEASURE-PARTY + +As this excursion is a matter of some length, and, moreover, we go in +force, we have set aside our usual vehicle, the pony-cart, and ordered a +large wagonette from Lejosne's. It has been waiting for near an hour, +while one went to pack a knapsack, and t'other hurried over his toilette +and coffee; but now it is filled from end to end with merry folk in +summer attire, the coachman cracks his whip, and amid much applause from +round the inn-door off we rattle at a spanking trot. The way lies +through the forest, up hill and down dale, and by beech and pine wood, +in the cheerful morning sunshine. The English get down at all the +ascents and walk on ahead for exercise; the French are mightily +entertained at this, and keep coyly underneath the tilt. As we go we +carry with us a pleasant noise of laughter and light speech, and some +one will be always breaking out into a bar or two of opera bouffe. +Before we get to the Route Ronde here comes Desprez, the colourman from +Fontainebleau, trudging across on his weekly peddle with a case of +merchandise; and it is "Desprez, leave me some malachite green"; +"Desprez, leave me so much canvas"; "Desprez, leave me this, or leave me +that"; M. Desprez standing the while in the sunlight with grave face and +many salutations. The next interruption is more important. For some time +back we have had the sound of cannon in our ears; and now, a little past +Franchard, we find a mounted trooper holding a led horse, who brings +the wagonette to a stand. The artillery is practising in the +Quadrilateral, it appears; passage along the Route Ronde formally +interdicted for the moment. There is nothing for it but to draw up at +the glaring cross-roads, and get down to make fun with the notorious +Cocardon, the most ungainly and ill-bred dog of all the ungainly and +ill-bred dogs of Barbizon, or clamber about the sandy banks. And +meanwhile the Doctor, with sun umbrella, wide Panama, and patriarchal +beard, is busy wheedling and (for aught the rest of us know) bribing the +too facile sentry. His speech is smooth and dulcet, his manner dignified +and insinuating. It is not for nothing that the Doctor has voyaged all +the world over, and speaks all languages from French to Patagonian. He +has not come home from perilous journeys to be thwarted by a corporal of +horse. And so we soon see the soldier's mouth relax, and his shoulders +imitate a relenting heart. "_En voiture, Messieurs, Mesdames_," sings +the Doctor; and on we go again at a good round pace, for black care +follows hard after us, and discretion prevails not a little over valour +in some timorous spirits of the party. At any moment we may meet the +sergeant, who will send us back. At any moment we may encounter a flying +shell, which will send us somewhere farther off than Grez. + +Grez--for that is our destination--has been highly recommended for its +beauty. "_Il y a de l'eau_," people have said, with an emphasis, as if +that settled the question, which, for a French mind, I am rather led to +think it does. And Grez, when we get there, is indeed a place worthy of +some praise. It lies out of the forest, a cluster of houses, with an old +bridge, an old castle in ruin, and a quaint old church. The inn garden +descends in terraces to the river; stableyard, kailyard, orchard, and a +space of lawn, fringed with rushes and embellished with a green arbour. +On the opposite bank there is a reach of English-looking plain, set +thickly with willows and poplars. And between the two lies the river, +clear and deep, and full of reeds and floating lilies. Water-plants +cluster about the starlings of the long low bridge, and stand half-way +up upon the piers in green luxuriance. They catch the dipped oar with +long antennae, and chequer the slimy bottom with the shadow of their +leaves. And the river wanders hither and thither among the islets, and +is smothered and broken up by the reeds, like an old building in the +lithe, hardy arms of the climbing ivy. You may watch the box where the +good man of the inn keeps fish alive for his kitchen, one oily ripple +following another over the top of the yellow deal. And you can hear a +splashing and a prattle of voices from the shed under the old kirk, +where the village women wash and wash all day among the fish and +water-lilies. It seems as if linen washed there should be specially cool +and sweet. + +We have come here for the river. And no sooner have we all bathed than +we board the two shallops and push off gaily, and go gliding under the +trees and gathering a great treasure of water-lilies. Some one sings; +some trail their hands in the cool water; some lean over the gunwale to +see the image of the tall poplars far below, and the shadow of the boat, +with balanced oars and their own head protruded, glide smoothly over the +yellow floor of the stream. At last, the day declining--all silent and +happy, and up to the knees in the wet lilies--we punt slowly back again +to the landing-place beside the bridge. There is a wish for solitude on +all. One hides himself in the arbour with a cigarette; another goes a +walk in the country with Cocardon; a third inspects the church. And it +is not till dinner is on the table, and the inn's best wine goes round +from glass to glass, that we begin to throw off the restraint and fuse +once more into a jolly fellowship. + +Half the party are to return to-night with the wagonette; and some of +the others, loath to break up good company, will go with them a bit of +the way and drink a stirrup-cup at Marlotte. It is dark in the +wagonette, and not so merry as it might have been. The coachman loses +the road. So-and-so tries to light fireworks with the most indifferent +success. Some sing, but the rest are too weary to applaud; and it seems +as if the festival were fairly at an end-- + + "Nous avons fait la noce, + Rentrons a nos foyers!" + +And such is the burthen, even after we have come to Marlotte and taken +our places in the court at Mother Antonine's. There is punch on the long +table out in the open air, where the guests dine in summer weather. The +candles flare in the night wind, and the faces round the punch are lit +up, with shifting emphasis, against a background of complete and solid +darkness. It is all picturesque enough; but the fact is, we are aweary. +We yawn; we are out of the vein; we have made the wedding, as the song +says, and now, for pleasure's sake, let's make an end on't. When here +comes striding into the court, booted to mid-thigh, spurred and +splashed, in a jacket of green cord, the great, famous, and redoubtable +Blank; and in a moment the fire kindles again, and the night is witness +of our laughter as he imitates Spaniards, Germans, Englishmen, +picture-dealers, all eccentric ways of speaking and thinking, with a +possession, a fury, a strain of mind and voice, that would rather +suggest a nervous crisis than a desire to please. We are as merry as +ever when the trap sets forth again, and say farewell noisily to all the +good folk going farther. Then, as we are far enough from thoughts of +sleep, we visit Blank in his quaint house, and sit an hour or so in a +great tapestried chamber, laid with furs, littered with sleeping hounds, +and lit up, in fantastic shadow and shine, by a wood-fire in a mediaeval +chimney. And then we plod back through the darkness to the inn beside +the river. + +How quick bright things come to confusion! When we arise next morning, +the grey showers fall steadily, the trees hang limp, and the face of +the stream is spoiled with dimpling raindrops. Yesterday's lilies +encumber the garden walk, or begin, dismally enough, their voyage +towards the Seine and the salt sea. A sickly shimmer lies upon the +dripping house roofs, and all the colour is washed out of the green and +golden landscape of last night, as though an envious man had taken a +water-colour sketch and blotted it together with a sponge. We go out +a-walking in the wet roads. But the roads about Grez have a trick of +their own. They go on for a while among clumps of willows and patches of +vine, and then, suddenly and without any warning, cease and determine in +some miry hollow or upon some bald knowe; and you have a short period of +hope, then right-about face, and back the way you came! So we draw about +the kitchen fire and play a round game of cards for ha'pence, or go to +the billiard-room for a match at corks; and by one consent a messenger +is sent over for the wagonette--Grez shall be left to-morrow. + +To-morrow dawns so fair that two of the party agree to walk back for +exercise, and let their knapsacks follow by the trap. I need hardly say +they are neither of them French; for, of all English phrases, the phrase +"for exercise" is the least comprehensible across the Straits of Dover. +All goes well for a while with the pedestrians. The wet woods are full +of scents in the noontide. At a certain cross, where there is a +guard-house, they make a halt, for the forester's wife is the daughter +of their good host at Barbizon. And so there they are hospitably +received by the comely woman, with one child in her arms and another +prattling and tottering at her gown, and drink some syrup of quince in +the back parlour, with a map of the forest on the wall, and some prints +of love-affairs and the great Napoleon hunting. As they draw near the +Quadrilateral, and hear once more the report of the big guns, they take +a by-road to avoid the sentries, and go on a while somewhat vaguely, +with the sound of the cannon in their ears and the rain beginning to +fall. The ways grow wider and sandier; here and there there are real +sand hills, as though by the seashore; the fir-wood is open and grows in +clumps upon the hillocks, and the race of sign-posts is no more. One +begins to look at the other doubtfully. "I am sure we should keep more +to the right," says one; and the other is just as certain they should +hold to the left. And now, suddenly, the heavens open, and the rain +falls "sheer and strong and loud," as out of a shower-bath. In a moment +they are as wet as shipwrecked sailors. They cannot see out of their +eyes for the drift, and the water churns and gurgles in their boots. +They leave the track and try across country with a gambler's +desperation, for it seems as if it were impossible to make the situation +worse; and, for the next hour, go scrambling from boulder to boulder, or +plod along paths that are now no more than rivulets, and across waste +clearings where the scattered shells and broken fir-trees tell all too +plainly of the cannon in the distance. And meantime the cannon grumble +out responses to the grumbling thunder. There is such a mixture of +melodrama and sheer discomfort about all this, it is at once so grey and +so lurid, that it is far more agreeable to read and write about by the +chimney-corner than to suffer in the person. At last they chance on the +right path, and make Franchard in the early evening, the sorriest pair +of wanderers that ever welcomed English ale. Thence, by the Bois +d'Hyver, the Ventes-Alexandre, and the Pins Brules, to the clean +hostelry, dry clothes, and dinner. + + +THE WOODS IN SPRING + +I think you will like the forest best in the sharp early spring-time, +when it is just beginning to re-awaken, and innumerable violets peep +from among the fallen leaves; when two or three people at most sit down +to dinner, and, at table, you will do well to keep a rug about your +knees, for the nights are chill, and the salle-a-manger opens on the +court. There is less to distract the attention, for one thing, and the +forest is more itself. It is not bedotted with artists' sunshades as +with unknown mushrooms, nor bestrewn with the remains of English +picnics. The hunting still goes on, and at any moment your heart may be +brought into your mouth as you hear far-away horns; or you may be told +by an agitated peasant that the Vicomte has gone up the avenue, not ten +minutes since, "_a fond de train, monsieur, et avec douze piqueurs._" + +If you go up to some coign of vantage in the system of low hills that +permeates the forest, you will see many different tracts of country, +each of its own cold and melancholy neutral tint, and all mixed together +and mingled the one into the other at the seams. You will see tracts of +leafless beeches of a faint yellowish grey, and leafless oaks a little +ruddier in the hue. Then zones of pine of a solemn green; and, dotted +among the pines, or standing by themselves in rocky clearings, the +delicate, snow-white trunks of birches, spreading out into snow-white +branches yet more delicate, and crowned and canopied with a purple haze +of twigs. And then a long, bare ridge of tumbled boulders, with bright +sandbreaks between them, and wavering sandy roads among the bracken and +brown heather. It is all rather cold and unhomely. It has not the +perfect beauty, nor the gem-like colouring, of the wood in the later +year, when it is no more than one vast colonnade of verdant shadow, +tremulous with insects, intersected here and there by lanes of sunlight +set in purple heather. The loveliness of the woods in March is not, +assuredly, of this blowsy rustic type. It is made sharp with a grain of +salt, with a touch of ugliness. It has a sting like the sting of bitter +ale; you acquire the love of it as men acquire a taste for olives. And +the wonderful clear, pure air wells into your lungs the while by +voluptuous inhalations, and makes the eyes bright, and sets the heart +tinkling to a new tune--or, rather, to an old tune; for you remember in +your boyhood something akin to this spirit of adventure, this thirst for +exploration, that now takes you masterfully by the hand, plunges you +into many a deep grove, and drags you over many a stony crest. It is as +if the whole wood were full of friendly voices calling you farther in, +and you turn from one side to another, like Buridan's donkey, in a maze +of pleasure. + +Comely beeches send up their white, straight, clustered branches, barred +with green moss, like so many fingers from a half-clenched hand. Mighty +oaks stand to the ankles in a fine tracery of underwood; thence the tall +shaft climbs upward, and the great forest of stalwart boughs spreads out +into the golden evening sky, where the rooks are flying and calling. On +the sward of the Bois d'Hyver the firs stand well asunder with outspread +arms, like fencers saluting; and the air smells of resin all around, and +the sound of the axe is rarely still. But strangest of all, and in +appearance oldest of all, are the dim and wizard upland districts of +young wood. The ground is carpeted with fir-tassel, and strewn with +fir-apples and flakes of fallen bark. Rocks lie crouching in the +thicket, guttered with rain, tufted with lichen, white with years and +the rigours of the changeful seasons. Brown and yellow butterflies are +sown and carried away again by the light air--like thistledown. The +loneliness of these coverts is so excessive, that there are moments when +pleasure draws to the verge of fear. You listen and listen for some +noise to break the silence, till you grow half mesmerised by the +intensity of the strain; your sense of your own identity is troubled; +your brain reels, like that of some gymnosophist poring on his own nose +in Asiatic jungles; and should you see your own outspread feet, you see +them, not as anything of yours, but as a feature of the scene around +you. + +Still the forest is always, but the stillness is not always unbroken. +You can hear the wind pass in the distance over the tree-tops; sometimes +briefly, like the noise of a train; sometimes with a long steady rush, +like the breaking of waves. And sometimes, close at hand, the branches +move, a moan goes through the thicket, and the wood thrills to its +heart. Perhaps you may hear a carriage on the road to Fontainebleau, a +bird gives a dry continual chirp, the dead leaves rustle underfoot, or +you may time your steps to the steady recurrent strokes of the woodman's +axe. From time to time, over the low grounds, a flight of rooks goes by; +and from time to time the cooing of wild doves falls upon the ear, not +sweet and rich and near at hand as in England, but a sort of voice of +the woods, thin and far away, as fits these solemn places. Or you hear +suddenly the hollow, eager, violent barking of dogs; scared deer flit +past you through the fringes of the wood; then a man or two running, in +green blouse, with gun and game-bag on a bandolier; and then, out of the +thick of the trees, comes the jar of rifle-shots. Or perhaps the hounds +are out, and horns are blown, and scarlet-coated huntsmen flash through +the clearings, and the solid noise of horses galloping passes below you, +where you sit perched among the rocks and heather. The boar is afoot, +and all over the forest, and in all neighbouring villages, there is a +vague excitement and a vague hope; for who knows whither the chase may +lead? and even to have seen a single piqueur, or spoken to a single +sportsman, is to be a man of consequence for the night. + +Besides men who shoot and men who ride with the hounds, there are few +people in the forest, in the early spring, save woodcutters plying their +axes steadily, and old women and children gathering wood for the fire. +You may meet such a party coming home in the twilight: the old woman +laden with a fagot of chips, and the little ones hauling a long branch +behind them in her wake. That is the worst of what there is to +encounter; and if I tell you of what once happened to a friend of mine, +it is by no means to tantalise you with false hopes; for the adventure +was unique. It was on a very cold, still, sunless morning, with a flat +grey sky and a frosty tingle in the air, that this friend (who shall +here be nameless) heard the notes of a key-bugle played with much +hesitation, and saw the smoke of a fire spread out along the green +pine-tops, in a remote uncanny glen, hard by a hill of naked boulders. +He drew near warily, and beheld a picnic party seated under a tree in an +open. The old father knitted a sock, the mother sat staring at the fire. +The eldest son, in the uniform of a private of dragoons, was choosing +out notes on a key-bugle. Two or three daughters lay in the +neighbourhood picking violets. And the whole party as grave and silent +as the woods around them! My friend watched for a long time, he says; +but all held their peace; not one spoke or smiled; only the dragoon kept +choosing out single notes upon the bugle, and the father knitted away at +his work and made strange movements the while with his flexible +eyebrows. They took no notice whatever of my friend's presence, which +was disquieting in itself, and increased the resemblance of the whole +party to mechanical wax-works. Certainly, he affirms, a wax figure might +have played the bugle with more spirit than that strange dragoon. And as +this hypothesis of his became more certain, the awful insolubility of +why they should be left out there in the woods with nobody to wind them +up again when they ran down, and a growing disquietude as to what might +happen next, became too much for his courage, and he turned tail, and +fairly took to his heels. It might have been a singing in his ears, but +he fancies he was followed as he ran by a peal of Titanic laughter. +Nothing has ever transpired to clear up the mystery; it may be they were +automata; or it may be (and this is the theory to which I lean myself) +that this is all another chapter of Heine's "Gods in Exile"; that the +upright old man with the eyebrows was no other than Father Jove, and the +young dragoon with the taste for music either Apollo or Mars. + + +MORALITY + +Strange indeed is the attraction of the forest for the minds of men. Not +one or two only, but a great chorus of grateful voices have arisen to +spread abroad its fame. Half the famous writers of modern France have +had their word to say about Fontainebleau. Chateaubriand, Michelet, +Beranger, George Sand, de Senancour, Flaubert, Murger, the brothers +Goncourt, Theodore de Banville, each of these has done something to the +eternal praise and memory of these woods. Even at the very worst of +times, even when the picturesque was anathema in the eyes of all Persons +of Taste, the forest still preserved a certain reputation for beauty. It +was in 1730 that the Abbe Guilbert published his "Historical Description +of the Palace, Town, and Forest of Fontainebleau." And very droll it is +to see him, as he tries to set forth his admiration in terms of what was +then permissible. The monstrous rocks, etc., says the Abbe, "sont +admirees avec surprise des voyageurs qui s'ecrient aussitot avec Horace: +Ut mihi devio rupes et vacuum nemus mirari libet." The good man is not +exactly lyrical in his praise; and you see how he sets his back against +Horace as against a trusty oak. Horace, at any rate, was classical. For +the rest, however, the Abbe likes places where many alleys meet; or +which, like the Belle-Etoile, are kept up "by a special gardener," and +admires at the Table du Roi the labours of the Grand Master of Woods and +Waters, the Sieur de la Falure, "qui a fait faire ce magnifique +endroit." + +But indeed, it is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a +claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of +the air, that emanation from the old trees, that so wonderfully changes +and renews a weary spirit. Disappointed men, sick Francis Firsts and +vanquished Grand Monarchs, time out of mind have come here for +consolation. Hither perplexed folk have retired out of the press of +life, as into a deep bay-window on some night of masquerade, and here +found quiet and silence, and rest, the mother of wisdom. It is the great +moral spa; this forest without a fountain is itself the great fountain +of Juventius. It is the best place in the world to bring an old sorrow +that has been a long while your friend and enemy; and if, like +Beranger's, your gaiety has run away from home and left open the door +for sorrow to come in, of all covers in Europe, it is here you may +expect to find the truant hid. With every hour you change. The air +penetrates through your clothes, and nestles to your living body. You +love exercise and slumber, long fasting and full meals. You forget all +your scruples and live a while in peace and freedom, and for the moment +only. For here, all is absent that can stimulate to moral feeling. Such +people as you see may be old, or toil-worn, or sorry; but you see them +framed in the forest, like figures on a painted canvas; and for you, +they are not people in any living and kindly sense. You forget the grim +contrariety of interests. You forget the narrow lane where all men +jostle together in unchivalrous contention, and the kennel, deep and +unclean, that gapes on either hand for the defeated. Life is simple +enough, it seems, and the very idea of sacrifice becomes like a mad +fancy out of a last night's dream. + +Your ideal is not perhaps high, but it is plain and possible. You become +enamoured of a life of change and movement and the open air, where the +muscles shall be more exercised than the affections. When you have had +your will of the forest, you may visit the whole round world. You may +buckle on your knapsack and take the road on foot. You may bestride a +good nag, and ride forth, with a pair of saddle-bags, into the enchanted +East. You may cross the Black Forest, and see Germany widespread before +you, like a map, dotted with old cities, walled and spired, that dream +all day on their own reflections in the Rhine or Danube. You may pass +the spinal cord of Europe and go down from Alpine glaciers to where +Italy extends her marble moles and glasses her marble palaces in the +midland sea. You may sleep in flying trains or wayside taverns. You may +be awakened at dawn by the scream of the express or the small pipe of +the robin in the hedge. For you the rain should allay the dust of the +beaten road; the wind dry your clothes upon you as you walked. Autumn +should hang out russet pears and purple grapes along the lane; inn after +inn proffer you their cups of raw wine; river by river receive your body +in the sultry noon. Wherever you went warm valleys and high trees and +pleasant villages should compass you about; and light fellowships should +take you by the arm, and walk with you an hour upon your way. You may +see from afar off what it will come to in the end--the weather-beaten +red-nosed vagabond, consumed by a fever of the feet, cut off from all +near touch of human sympathy, a waif, an Ishmael, and an outcast. And +yet it will seem well--and yet, in the air of the forest, this will seem +the best--to break all the network bound about your feet by birth and +old companionship and loyal love, and bear your shovelful of phosphates +to and fro, in town and country, until the hour of the great dissolvent. + +Or, perhaps, you will keep to the cover. For the forest is by itself, +and forest life owns small kinship with life in the dismal land of +labour. Men are so far sophisticated that they cannot take the world as +it is given to them by the sight of their eyes. Not only what they see +and hear, but what they know to be behind, enter into their notion of a +place. If the sea, for instance, lie just across the hills, sea-thoughts +will come to them at intervals, and the tenor of their dreams from time +to time will suffer a sea-change. And so here, in this forest, a +knowledge of its greatness is for much in the effect produced. You +reckon up the miles that lie between you and intrusion. You may walk +before you all day long, and not fear to touch the barrier of your Eden, +or stumble out of fairyland into the land of gin and steam-hammers. And +there is an old tale enhances for the imagination the grandeur of the +woods of France, and secures you in the thought of your seclusion. When +Charles VI. hunted in the time of his wild boyhood near Senlis, there +was captured an old stag, having a collar of bronze about his neck, and +these words engraved on the collar: "Caesar mini hoc donavit." It is no +wonder if the minds of men were moved at this occurrence and they stood +aghast to find themselves thus touching hands with forgotten ages, and +following an antiquity with hound and horn. And even for you, it is +scarcely in an idle curiosity that you ponder how many centuries this +stag had carried its free antlers through the wood, and how many summers +and winters had shone and snowed on the imperial badge. If the extent of +solemn wood could thus safeguard a tall stag from the hunter's hounds +and horses, might not you also play hide-and-seek, in these groves, with +all the pangs and trepidations of man's life, and elude Death, the +mighty hunter, for more than the span of human years? Here, also, crash +his arrows; here, in the farthest glade, sounds the gallop of the pale +horse. But he does not hunt this cover with all his hounds, for the game +is thin and small: and if you were but alert and wary, if you lodged +ever in the deepest thickets, you too might live on into later +generations and astonish men by your stalwart age and the trophies of an +immemorial success. + +For the forest takes away from you all excuse to die. There is nothing +here to cabin or thwart your free desires. Here all the impudences of +the brawling world reach you no more. You may count your hours, like +Endymion, by the strokes of the lone woodcutter, or by the progression +of the lights and shadows and the sun wheeling his wide circuit through +the naked heavens. Here shall you see no enemies but winter and rough +weather. And if a pang comes to you at all, it will be a pang of +healthful hunger. All the puling sorrows, all the carking repentance, +all this talk of duty that is no duty, in the great peace, in the pure +daylight of these woods, fall away from you like a garment. And if +perchance you come forth upon an eminence, where the wind blows upon you +large and fresh, and the pines knock their long stems together, like an +ungainly sort of puppets, and see far away over the plain a factory +chimney defined against the pale horizon--it is for you, as for the +staid and simple peasant when, with his plough, he upturns old arms and +harness from the furrow of the glebe. Ay, sure enough, there was a +battle there in the old times; and, sure enough, there is a world out +yonder where men strive together with a noise of oaths and weeping and +clamorous dispute. So much you apprehend by an athletic act of the +imagination. A faint far-off rumour as of Merovingian wars; a legend as +of some dead religion. + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [42] "Deux poures varlez qui n'out nulz gages et qui gissoient la + nuit avec les chiens." See Champollion-Figeac's "Louis et Charles + d'Orleans," i. 63, and for my lord's English horn, _ibid._ 96. + + + + +CRITICISMS + + + + +CRITICISMS + +I + +LORD LYTTON'S "FABLES IN SONG" + + +It seems as if Lord Lytton, in this new book of his, had found the form +most natural to his talent. In some ways, indeed, it may be held +inferior to "Chronicles and Characters"; we look in vain for anything +like the terrible intensity of the night-scene in "Irene," or for any +such passages of massive and memorable writing as appeared, here and +there, in the earlier work, and made it not altogether unworthy of its +model, Hugo's "Legend of the Ages." But it becomes evident, on the most +hasty retrospect, that this earlier work was a step on the way towards +the later. It seems as if the author had been feeling about for his +definite medium, and was already, in the language of the child's game, +growing hot. There are many pieces in "Chronicles and Characters" that +might be detached from their original setting, and embodied, as they +stand, among the "Fables in Song." + +For the term Fable is not very easy to define rigorously. In the most +typical form some moral precept is set forth by means of a conception +purely fantastic, and usually somewhat trivial into the bargain; there +is something playful about it, that will not support a very exacting +criticism, and the lesson must be apprehended by the fancy at half a +hint. Such is the great mass of the old stories of wise animals or +foolish men that have amused our childhood. But we should expect the +fable, in company with other and more important literary forms, to be +more and more loosely, or at least largely, comprehended as time went +on, and so to degenerate in conception from this original type. That +depended for much of its piquancy on the very fact that it was +fantastic: the point of the thing lay in a sort of humorous +inappropriateness; and it is natural enough that pleasantry of this +description should become less common, as men learn to suspect some +serious analogy underneath. Thus a comical story of an ape touches us +quite differently after the proposition of Mr. Darwin's theory. +Moreover, there lay, perhaps, at the bottom of this primitive sort of +fable, a humanity, a tenderness of rough truths; so that at the end of +some story, in which vice or folly had met with its destined punishment, +the fabulist might be able to assure his auditors, as we have often to +assure tearful children on the like occasions, that they may dry their +eyes, for none of it was true. + +But this benefit of fiction becomes lost with more sophisticated hearers +and authors: a man is no longer the dupe of his own artifice, and cannot +deal playfully with truths that are a matter of bitter concern to him in +his life. And hence, in the progressive centralisation of modern +thought, we should expect the old form of fable to fall gradually into +desuetude, and be gradually succeeded by another, which is a fable in +all points except that it is not altogether fabulous. And this new form, +such as we should expect, and such as we do indeed find, still presents +the essential character of brevity; as in any other fable also, there +is, underlying and animating the brief action, a moral idea; and as in +any other fable, the object is to bring this home to the reader through +the intellect rather than through the feelings; so that, without being +very deeply moved or interested by the characters of the piece, we +should recognise vividly the hinges on which the little plot revolves. +But the fabulist now seeks analogies where before he merely sought +humorous situations. There will be now a logical nexus between the moral +expressed and the machinery employed to express it. The machinery, in +fact, as this change is developed, becomes less and less fabulous. We +find ourselves in presence of quite a serious, if quite a miniature +division of creative literature; and sometimes we have the lesson +embodied in a sober, everyday narration, as in the parables of the New +Testament, and sometimes merely the statement or, at most, the +collocation of significant facts in life, the reader being left to +resolve for himself the vague, troublesome, and not yet definitely moral +sentiment which has been thus created. And step by step with the +development of this change, yet another is developed: the moral tends to +become more indeterminate and large. It ceases to be possible to append +it, in a tag, to the bottom of the piece, as one might write the name +below a caricature; and the fable begins to take rank with all other +forms of creative literature, as something too ambitious, in spite of +its miniature dimensions, to be resumed in any succinct formula without +the loss of all that is deepest and most suggestive in it. + +Now it is in this widest sense that Lord Lytton understands the term; +there are examples in his two pleasant volumes of all the forms already +mentioned, and even of another which can only be admitted among fables +by the utmost possible leniency of construction. "Composure," "Et +Caetera," and several more, are merely similes poetically elaborated. So, +too, is the pathetic story of the grandfather and grandchild: the child, +having treasured away an icicle and forgotten it for ten minutes, comes +back to find it already nearly melted, and no longer beautiful: at the +same time, the grandfather has just remembered and taken out a bundle of +love-letters, which he too had stored away in years gone by, and then +long neglected; and, behold! the letters are as faded and sorrowfully +disappointing as the icicle. This is merely a simile poetically worked +out; and yet it is in such as these, and some others, to be mentioned +further on, that the author seems at his best. Wherever he has really +written after the old model, there is something to be deprecated: in +spite of all the spirit and freshness, in spite of his happy assumption +of that cheerful acceptation of things as they are, which, rightly or +wrongly, we come to attribute to the ideal fabulist, there is ever a +sense as of something a little out of place. A form of literature so +very innocent and primitive looks a little over-written in Lord Lytton's +conscious and highly-coloured style. It may be bad taste, but sometimes +we should prefer a few sentences of plain prose narration, and a little +Bewick by way of tail-piece. So that it is not among those fables that +conform most nearly to the old model, but one had nearly said among +those that most widely differ from it, that we find the most +satisfactory examples of the author's manner. + +In the mere matter of ingenuity, the metaphysical fables are the most +remarkable; such as that of the windmill who imagined that it was he who +raised the wind; or that of the grocer's balance ("Cogito ergo sum") who +considered himself endowed with free-will, reason, and an infallible +practical judgment; until, one fine day, the police made a descent upon +the shop, and find the weights false and the scales unequal; and the +whole thing is broken up for old iron. Capital fables, also, in the same +ironical spirit, are "Prometheus Unbound," the tale of the vainglorying +of a champagne-cork, and "Teleology," where a nettle justifies the ways +of God to nettles while all goes well with it, and, upon a change of +luck, promptly changes its divinity. + +In all these there is still plenty of the fabulous if you will, +although, even here, there may be two opinions possible; but there is +another group, of an order of merit perhaps still higher, where we look +in vain for any such playful liberties with Nature. Thus we have +"Conservation of Force"; where a musician, thinking of a certain +picture, improvises in the twilight; a poet, hearing the music, goes +home inspired, and writes a poem; and then a painter, under the +influence of this poem, paints another picture, thus lineally descended +from the first. This is fiction, but not what we have been used to call +fable. We miss the incredible element, the point of audacity with which +the fabulist was wont to mock at his readers. And still more so is this +the case with others. "The Horse and the Fly" states one of the +unanswerable problems of life in quite a realistic and straightforward +way. A fly startles a cab-horse, the coach is overset; a newly-married +pair within and the driver, a man with a wife and family, are all +killed. The horse continues to gallop off in the loose traces, and ends +the tragedy by running over an only child; and there is some little +pathetic detail here introduced in the telling, that makes the reader's +indignation very white-hot against some one. It remains to be seen who +that some one is to be: the fly? Nay, but on closer inspection, it +appears that the fly, actuated by maternal instinct, was only seeking a +place for her eggs: is maternal instinct, then, "sole author of these +mischiefs all"? "Who's in the Right?" one of the best fables in the +book, is somewhat in the same vein. After a battle has been won, a group +of officers assemble inside a battery, and debate together who should +have the honour of the success; the Prince, the general staff, the +cavalry, the engineer who posted the battery in which they then stand +talking, are successively named: the sergeant, who pointed the guns, +sneers to himself at the mention of the engineer; and, close by, the +gunner, who had applied the match, passes away with a smile of triumph, +since it was through his hand that the victorious blow had been dealt. +Meanwhile, the cannon claims the honour over the gunner; the +cannon-ball, who actually goes forth on the dread mission, claims it +over the cannon, who remains idly behind; the powder reminds the +cannon-ball that, but for him, it would still be lying on the arsenal +floor; and the match caps the discussion; powder, cannon-ball, and +cannon would be all equally vain and ineffectual without fire. Just then +there comes on a shower of rain, which wets the powder and puts out the +match, and completes this lesson of dependence, by indicating the +negative conditions which are as necessary for any effect, in their +absence, as is the presence of this great fraternity of positive +conditions, not any one of which can claim priority over any other. But +the fable does not end here, as perhaps, in all logical strictness, it +should. It wanders off into a discussion as to which is the truer +greatness, that of the vanquished fire or that of the victorious rain. +And the speech of the rain is charming: + + "Lo, with my little drops I bless again + And beautify the fields which thou didst blast! + Rend, wither, waste, and ruin, what thou wilt, + But call not Greatness what the Gods call Guilt. + Blossoms and grass from blood in battle spilt, + And poppied corn, I bring. + 'Mid mouldering Babels, to oblivion built, + My violets spring. + Little by little my small drops have strength + To deck with green delights the grateful earth." + +And so forth, not quite germane (it seems to me) to the matter in hand, +but welcome for its own sake. + +Best of all are the fables that deal more immediately with the emotions. +There is, for instance, that of "The Two Travellers," which is +profoundly moving in conception, although by no means as well written as +some others. In this, one of the two, fearfully frost-bitten, saves his +life out of the snow at the cost of all that was comely in his body; +just as, long before, the other, who has now quietly resigned himself to +death, had violently freed himself from Love at the cost of all that was +finest and fairest in his character. Very graceful and sweet is the +fable (if so it should be called) in which the author sings the praises +of that "kindly perspective," which lets a wheat-stalk near the eye +cover twenty leagues of distant country, and makes the humble circle +about a man's hearth more to him than all the possibilities of the +external world. The companion fable to this is also excellent. It tells +us of a man who had, all his life through, entertained a passion for +certain blue hills on the far horizon, and had promised himself to +travel thither ere he died, and become familiar with these distant +friends. At last, in some political trouble, he is banished to the very +place of his dreams. He arrives there overnight, and, when he rises and +goes forth in the morning, there sure enough are the blue hills, only +now they have changed places with him, and smile across to him, distant +as ever, from the old home whence he has come. Such a story might have +been very cynically treated; but it is not so done, the whole tone is +kindly and consolatory, and the disenchanted man submissively takes the +lesson, and understands that things far away are to be loved for their +own sake, and that the unattainable is not truly unattainable, when we +can make the beauty of it our own. Indeed, throughout all these two +volumes, though there is much practical scepticism, and much irony on +abstract questions, this kindly and consolatory spirit is never absent. +There is much that is cheerful and, after a sedate, fireside fashion, +hopeful. No one will be discouraged by reading the book; but the ground +of all this hopefulness and cheerfulness remains to the end somewhat +vague. It does not seem to arise from any practical belief in the future +either of the individual or the race, but rather from the profound +personal contentment of the writer. This is, I suppose, all we must look +for in the case. It is as much as we can expect, if the fabulist shall +prove a shrewd and cheerful fellow-wayfarer, one with whom the world +does not seem to have gone much amiss, but who has yet laughingly +learned something of its evil. It will depend much, of course, upon our +own character and circumstances, whether the encounter will be agreeable +and bracing to the spirits, or offend us as an ill-timed mockery. But +where, as here, there is a little tincture of bitterness along with the +good-nature, where it is plainly not the humour of a man cheerfully +ignorant, but of one who looks on, tolerant and superior and smilingly +attentive, upon the good and bad of our existence, it will go hardly if +we do not catch some reflection of the same spirit to help us on our +way. There is here no impertinent and lying proclamation of peace--none +of the cheap optimism of the well-to-do; what we find here is a view of +life that would be even grievous, were it not enlivened with this +abiding cheerfulness, and ever and anon redeemed by a stroke of pathos. + +It is natural enough, I suppose, that we should find wanting in this +book some of the intenser qualities of the author's work; and their +absence is made up for by much happy description after a quieter +fashion. The burst of jubilation over the departure of the snow, which +forms the prelude to "The Thistle," is full of spirit and of pleasant +images. The speech of the forest in "Sans Souci" is inspired by a +beautiful sentiment for nature of the modern sort, and pleases us more, +I think, as poetry should please us, than anything in "Chronicles and +Characters." There are some admirable felicities of expression here and +there; as that of the hill, whose summit + + "Did print + The azure air with pines." + +Moreover, I do not recollect in the author's former work any symptom of +that sympathetic treatment of still life, which is noticeable now and +again in the fables; and perhaps most noticeably, when he sketches the +burned letters as they hover along the gusty flue, "Thin, sable veils, +wherein a restless spark Yet trembled." But the description is at its +best when the subjects are unpleasant, or even grisly. There are a few +capital lines in this key on the last spasm of the battle before alluded +to. Surely nothing could be better, in its own way, than the fish in +"The Last Cruise of the Arrogant," "the shadowy, side-faced, silent +things," that come butting and staring with lidless eyes at the sunken +steam-engine. And although, in yet another, we are told, pleasantly +enough, how the water went down into the valleys, where it set itself +gaily to saw wood, and on into the plains, where it would soberly carry +grain to town; yet the real strength of the fable is when it deals with +the shut pool in which certain unfortunate raindrops are imprisoned +among slugs and snails, and in the company of an old toad. The sodden +contentment of the fallen acorn is strangely significant; and it is +astonishing how unpleasantly we are startled by the appearance of her +horrible lover, the maggot. + +And now for a last word, about the style. This is not easy to criticise. +It is impossible to deny to it rapidity, spirit, and a full sound; the +lines are never lame, and the sense is carried forward with an +uninterrupted, impetuous rush. But it is not equal. After passages of +really admirable versification, the author falls back upon a sort of +loose, cavalry manner, not unlike the style of some of Mr. Browning's +minor pieces, and almost inseparable from wordiness, and an easy +acceptation of somewhat cheap finish. There is nothing here of that +compression which is the note of a really sovereign style. It is unfair, +perhaps, to set a not remarkable passage from Lord Lytton side by side +with one of the signal masterpieces of another, and a very perfect poet; +and yet it is interesting, when we see how the portraiture of a dog, +detailed through thirty odd lines, is frittered down and finally almost +lost in the mere laxity of the style, to compare it with the clear, +simple, vigorous delineation that Burns, in four couplets, has given us +of the ploughman's collie. It is interesting, at first, and then it +becomes a little irritating; for when we think of other passages so much +more finished and adroit, we cannot help feeling, that with a little +more ardour after perfection of form, criticism would have found nothing +left for her to censure. A similar mark of precipitate work is the +number of adjectives tumultuously heaped together, sometimes to help out +the sense, and sometimes (as one cannot but suspect) to help out the +sound of the verses. I do not believe, for instance, that Lord Lytton +himself would defend the lines in which we are told how Laocoon +"Revealed to _Roman_ crowds, now _Christian_ grown, That _Pagan_ anguish +which, in _Parian_ stone, the _Rhodian_ artist," and so on. It is not +only that this is bad in itself; but that it is unworthy of the company +in which it is found; that such verses should not have appeared with the +name of a good versifier like Lord Lytton. We must take exception, also, +in conclusion, to the excess of alliteration. Alliteration is so liable +to be abused that we can scarcely be too sparing of it; and yet it is a +trick that seems to grow upon the author with years. It is a pity to see +fine verses, such as some in "Demos," absolutely spoiled by the +recurrence of one wearisome consonant. + + + + +II + +SALVINI'S MACBETH + + +Salvini closed his short visit to Edinburgh by a performance of +_Macbeth_. It was, perhaps, from a sentiment of local colour that he +chose to play the Scottish usurper for the first time before Scotsmen; +and the audience were not insensible of the privilege. Few things, +indeed, can move a stronger interest than to see a great creation taking +shape for the first time. If it is not purely artistic, the sentiment is +surely human. And the thought that you are before all the world, and +have the start of so many others as eager as yourself, at least keeps +you in a more unbearable suspense before the curtain rises, if it does +not enhance the delight with which you follow the performance and see +the actor "bend up each corporal agent" to realise a masterpiece of a +few hours' duration. With a player so variable as Salvini, who trusts +to the feelings of the moment for so much detail, and who, night after +night, does the same thing differently but always well, it can never be +safe to pass judgment after a single hearing. And this is more +particularly true of last week's _Macbeth_; for the whole third act was +marred by a grievously humorous misadventure. Several minutes too soon +the ghost of Banquo joined the party, and after having sat helpless a +while at a table, was ignominiously withdrawn. Twice was this ghostly +Jack-in-the-box obtruded on the stage before his time; twice removed +again; and yet he showed so little hurry when he was really wanted, +that, after an awkward pause, Macbeth had to begin his apostrophe to +empty air. The arrival of the belated spectre in the middle, with a jerk +that made him nod all over, was the last accident in the chapter, and +worthily topped the whole. It may be imagined how lamely matters went +throughout these cross purposes. + +In spite of this, and some other hitches, Salvini's Macbeth had an +emphatic success. The creation is worthy of a place beside the same +artist's Othello and Hamlet. It is the simplest and most unsympathetic +of the three; but the absence of the finer lineaments of Hamlet is +redeemed by gusto, breadth, and a headlong unity. Salvini sees nothing +great in Macbeth beyond the royalty of muscle, and that courage which +comes of strong and copious circulation. The moral smallness of the man +is insisted on from the first, in the shudder of uncontrollable jealousy +with which he sees Duncan embracing Banquo. He may have some northern +poetry of speech, but he has not much logical understanding. In his +dealings with the supernatural powers he is like a savage with his +fetich, trusting them beyond bounds while all goes well, and whenever he +is crossed, casting his belief aside and calling "fate into the list." +For his wife, he is little more than an agent, a frame of bone and sinew +for her fiery spirit to command. The nature of his feeling towards her +is rendered with a most precise and delicate touch. He always yields to +the woman's fascination; and yet his caresses (and we know how much +meaning Salvini can give to a caress) are singularly hard and unloving. +Sometimes he lays his hand on her as he might take hold of any one who +happened to be nearest to him at a moment of excitement. Love has fallen +out of this marriage by the way, and left a curious friendship. Only +once--at the very moment when she is showing herself so little a woman +and so much a high-spirited man--only once is he very deeply stirred +towards her; and that finds expression in the strange and horrible +transport of admiration, doubly strange and horrible on Salvini's +lips--"Bring forth men-children only!" + +The murder scene, as was to be expected, pleased the audience best. +Macbeth's voice, in the talk with his wife, was a thing not to be +forgotten; and when he spoke of his hangman's hands he seemed to have +blood in his utterance. Never for a moment, even in the very article of +the murder, does he possess his own soul. He is a man on wires. From +first to last it is an exhibition of hideous cowardice. For, after all, +it is not here, but in broad daylight, with the exhilaration of +conflict, where he can assure himself at every blow he has the longest +sword and the heaviest hand, that this man's physical bravery can keep +him up; he is an unwieldy ship, and needs plenty of way on before he +will steer. + +In the banquet scene, while the first murderer gives account of what he +has done, there comes a flash of truculent joy at the "twenty trenched +gashes" on Banquo's head. Thus Macbeth makes welcome to his imagination +those very details of physical horror which are so soon to turn sour in +him. As he runs out to embrace these cruel circumstances, as he seeks to +realise to his mind's eye the reassuring spectacle of his dead enemy, he +is dressing out the phantom to terrify himself; and his imagination, +playing the part of justice, is to "commend to his own lips the +ingredients of his poisoned chalice." With the recollection of Hamlet +and his father's spirit still fresh upon him, and the holy awe with +which that good man encountered things not dreamt of in his philosophy, +it was not possible to avoid looking for resemblances between the two +apparitions and the two men haunted. But there are none to be found. +Macbeth has a purely physical dislike for Banquo's spirit and the +"twenty trenched gashes." He is afraid of he knows not what. He is +abject, and again blustering. In the end he so far forgets himself, his +terror, and the nature of what is before him, that he rushes upon it as +he would upon a man. When his wife tells him he needs repose, there is +something really childish in the way he looks about the room, and, +seeing nothing, with an expression of almost sensual relief, plucks up +heart enough to go to bed. And what is the upshot of the visitation? It +is written in Shakespeare, but should be read with the commentary of +Salvini's voice and expression:--"_O! siam nell' opra ancor +fanciulli_,"--"We are yet but young in deed." Circle below circle. He is +looking with horrible satisfaction into the mouth of hell. There may +still be a prick to-day; but to-morrow conscience will be dead, and he +may move untroubled in this element of blood. + +In the fifth act we see this lowest circle reached; and it is Salvini's +finest moment throughout the play. From the first he was admirably made +up, and looked Macbeth to the full as perfectly as ever he looked +Othello. From the first moment he steps upon the stage you can see this +character is a creation to the fullest meaning of the phrase; for the +man before you is a type you know well already. He arrives with Banquo +on the heath, fair and red-bearded, sparing of gesture, full of pride +and the sense of animal wellbeing, and satisfied after the battle like a +beast who has eaten his fill. But in the fifth act there is a change. +This is still the big, burly, fleshly, handsome-looking Thane; here is +still the same face which in the earlier acts could be superficially +good-humoured and sometimes royally courteous. But now the atmosphere +of blood, which pervades the whole tragedy, has entered into the man and +subdued him to its own nature; and an indescribable degradation, a +slackness and puffiness, has overtaken his features. He has breathed the +air of carnage, and supped full of horrors. Lady Macbeth complains of +the smell of blood on her hand: Macbeth makes no complaint--he has +ceased to notice it now; but the same smell is in his nostrils. A +contained fury and disgust possesses him. He taunts the messenger and +the doctor as people would taunt their mortal enemies. And, indeed, as +he knows right well, every one is his enemy now, except his wife. About +her he questions the doctor with something like a last human anxiety; +and, in tones of grisly mystery, asks him if he can "minister to a mind +diseased." When the news of her death is brought him, he is staggered +and falls into a seat; but somehow it is not anything we can call grief +that he displays. There had been two of them against God and man; and +now, when there is only one, it makes perhaps less difference than he +had expected. And so her death is not only an affliction, but one more +disillusion; and he redoubles in bitterness. The speech that follows, +given with tragic cynicism in every word, is a dirge, not so much for +her as for himself. From that time forth there is nothing human left in +him, only "the fiend of Scotland," Macduff's "hell-hound," whom, with a +stern glee, we see baited like a bear and hunted down like a wolf. He is +inspired and set above fate by a demoniacal energy, a lust of wounds and +slaughter. Even after he meets Macduff his courage does not fail; but +when he hears the Thane was not born of woman, all virtue goes out of +him; and though he speaks sounding words of defiance, the last combat is +little better than a suicide. + +The whole performance is, as I said, so full of gusto and a headlong +unity; the personality of Macbeth is so sharp and powerful; and within +these somewhat narrow limits there is so much play and saliency that, so +far as concerns Salvini himself, a third great success seems +indubitable. Unfortunately, however, a great actor cannot fill more than +a very small fraction of the boards; and though Banquo's ghost will +probably be more seasonable in his future apparitions, there are some +more inherent difficulties in the piece. The company at large did not +distinguish themselves. Macduff, to the huge delight of the gallery, +out-Macduff'd the average ranter. The lady who filled the principal +female part has done better on other occasions, but I fear she has not +metal for what she tried last week. Not to succeed in the sleep-walking +scene is to make a memorable failure. As it was given, it succeeded in +being wrong in art without being true to nature. + +And there is yet another difficulty, happily easy to reform, which +somewhat interfered with the success of the performance. At the end of +the incantation scene the Italian translator has made Macbeth fall +insensible upon the stage. This is a change of questionable propriety +from a psychological point of view; while in point of view of effect it +leaves the stage for some moments empty of all business. To remedy this, +a bevy of green ballet-girls came forth and pointed their toes about the +prostrate king. A dance of High Church curates, or a hornpipe by Mr. T. +P. Cooke, would not be more out of the key; though the gravity of a +Scots audience was not to be overcome, and they merely expressed their +disapprobation by a round of moderate hisses, a similar irruption of +Christmas fairies would most likely convulse a London theatre from pit +to gallery with inextinguishable laughter. It is, I am told, the Italian +tradition; but it is one more honoured in the breach than the +observance. With the total disappearance of these damsels, with a +stronger Lady Macbeth, and, if possible, with some compression of those +scenes in which Salvini does not appear, and the spectator is left at +the mercy of Macduffs and Duncans, the play would go twice as well, and +we should be better able to follow and enjoy an admirable work of +dramatic art. + + + + +III + +BAGSTER'S "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS" + + +I have here before me an edition of the "Pilgrim's Progress," bound in +green, without a date, and described as "illustrated by nearly three +hundred engravings, and memoir of Bunyan." On the outside it is lettered +"Bagster's Illustrated Edition," and after the author's apology, facing +the first page of the tale, a folding pictorial "Plan of the Road" is +marked as "drawn by the late Mr. T. Conder," and engraved by J. Basire. +No further information is anywhere vouchsafed; perhaps the publishers +had judged the work too unimportant; and we are still left ignorant +whether or not we owe the woodcuts in the body of the volume to the same +hand that drew the plan. It seems, however, more than probable. The +literal particularity of mind which, in the map, laid down the +flower-plots in the devil's garden, and carefully introduced the +court-house in the town of Vanity, is closely paralleled in many of the +cuts; and in both, the architecture of the buildings and the disposition +of the gardens have a kindred and entirely English air. Whoever he was, +the author of these wonderful little pictures may lay claim to be the +best illustrator of Bunyan.[43] They are not only good illustrations, +like so many others; but they are like so few, good illustrations of +Bunyan. Their spirit, in defect and quality, is still the same as his +own. The designer also has lain down and dreamed a dream, as literal, as +quaint, and almost as apposite as Bunyan's; and text and pictures +make but the two sides of the same homespun yet impassioned story. To +do justice to the designs, it will be necessary to say, for the +hundredth time, a word or two about the masterpiece which they adorn. + +All allegories have a tendency to escape from the purpose of their +creators; and as the characters and incidents become more and more +interesting in themselves, the moral, which these were to show forth, +falls more and more into neglect. An architect may command a wreath of +vine-leaves round the cornice of a monument; but if, as each leaf came +from the chisel, it took proper life and fluttered freely on the wall, +and if the vine grew, and the building were hidden over with foliage and +fruit, the architect would stand in much the same situation as the writer +of allegories. The "Faery Queen" was an allegory, I am willing to +believe; but it survives as an imaginative tale in incomparable verse. +The case of Bunyan is widely different; and yet in this also Allegory, +poor nymph, although never quite forgotten, is sometimes rudely thrust +against the wall. Bunyan was fervently in earnest; with "his fingers in +his ears, he ran on," straight for his mark. He tells us himself, in the +conclusion to the first part, that he did not fear to raise a laugh; +indeed, he feared nothing, and said anything; and he was greatly served +in this by a certain rustic privilege of his style, which, like the talk +of strong uneducated men, when it does not impress by its force, still +charms by its simplicity. The mere story and the allegorical design +enjoyed perhaps his equal favour. He believed in both with an energy of +faith that was capable of moving mountains. And we have to remark in him, +not the parts where inspiration fails and is supplied by cold and merely +decorative invention, but the parts where faith has grown to be +credulity, and his characters become so real to him that he forgets the +end of their creation. We can follow him step by step into the trap which +he lays for himself by his own entire good faith and triumphant +literality of vision, till the trap closes and shuts him in an +inconsistency. The allegories of the Interpreter and of the Shepherds of +the Delectable Mountains are all actually performed, like stage-plays, +before the pilgrims. The son of Mr. Great-grace visibly "tumbles hills +about with his words." Adam the First has his condemnation written +visibly on his forehead, so that Faithful reads it. At the very instant +the net closes round the pilgrims, "the white robe falls from the black +man's body." Despair "getteth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel"; it was in +"sunshiny weather" that he had his fits; and the birds in the grove about +the House Beautiful, "our country birds," only sing their little pious +verses "at the spring, when the flowers appear and the sun shines warm." +"I often," says Piety, "go out to hear them; we also ofttimes keep them +tame on our house." The post between Beulah and the Celestial City sounds +his horn, as you may yet hear in country places. Madam Bubble, that +"tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy complexion, in very pleasant +attire, but old," "gives you a smile at the end of each sentence"--a real +woman she; we all know her. Christiana dying "gave Mr. Stand-fast a +ring," for no possible reason in the allegory, merely because the touch +was human and affecting. Look at Great-heart, with his soldierly ways, +garrison ways, as I had almost called them; with his taste in weapons; +his delight in any that "he found to be a man of his hands"; his +chivalrous point of honour, letting Giant Maul get up again when he was +down, a thing fairly flying in the teeth of the moral; above all, with +his language in the inimitable tale of Mr. Fearing: "I thought I should +have lost my man"--"chicken-hearted"--"at last he came in, and I will say +that for my lord, he carried it wonderful lovingly to him." This is no +Independent minister; this is a stout, honest, big-busted ancient, +adjusting his shoulder-belts, twirling his long moustaches as he speaks. +Last and most remarkable, "My sword," says the dying Valiant-for-Truth, +he in whom Great-heart delighted, "my sword I give to him that shall +succeed me in my pilgrimage, _and my courage and skill to him that can +get it_." And after this boast, more arrogantly unorthodox than was ever +dreamed of by the rejected Ignorance, we are told that "all the trumpets +sounded for him on the other side." + +In every page the book is stamped with the same energy of vision and the +same energy of belief. The quality is equally and indifferently +displayed in the spirit of the fighting, the tenderness of the pathos, +the startling vigour and strangeness of the incidents, the natural +strain of the conversations, and the humanity and charm of the +characters. Trivial talk over a meal, the dying words of heroes, the +delights of Beulah or the Celestial City, Apollyon and my Lord +Hate-good, Great-heart, and Mr. Worldly-Wiseman, all have been imagined +with the same clearness, all written of with equal gusto and precision, +all created in the same mixed element, of simplicity that is almost +comical, and art that, for its purpose, is faultless. + +It was in much the same spirit that our artist sat down to his drawings. +He is by nature a Bunyan of the pencil. He, too, will draw anything, +from a butcher at work on a dead sheep, up to the courts of Heaven. "A +Lamb for Supper" is the name of one of his designs, "Their Glorious +Entry" of another. He has the same disregard for the ridiculous, and +enjoys somewhat of the same privilege of style, so that we are pleased +even when we laugh the most. He is literal to the verge of folly. If +dust is to be raised from the unswept parlour, you may be sure it will +"fly abundantly" in the picture. If Faithful is to lie "as dead" before +Moses, dead he shall lie with a warrant--dead and stiff like granite; +nay (and here the artist must enhance upon the symbolism of the author), +it is with the identical stone tables of the law that Moses fells the +sinner. Good and bad people, whom we at once distinguish in the text by +their names, Hopeful, Honest, and Valiant-for-Truth, on the one hand, as +against By-ends, Sir Having Greedy, and the Lord Old-man on the other, +are in these drawings as simply distinguished by their costume. Good +people, when not armed _cap-a-pie_, wear a speckled tunic girt about the +waist, and low hats, apparently of straw. Bad people swagger in +tail-coats and chimney-pots, a few with knee-breeches, but the large +majority in trousers, and for all the world like guests at a +garden-party. Worldly-Wiseman alone, by some inexplicable quirk, stands +before Christian in laced hat, embroidered waistcoat, and trunk-hose. +But above all examples of this artist's intrepidity, commend me to the +print entitled "Christian Finds it Deep." "A great darkness and horror," +says the text, have fallen on the pilgrim; it is the comfortless +deathbed with which Bunyan so strikingly concludes the sorrows and +conflicts of his hero. How to represent this worthily the artist knew +not; and yet he was determined to represent it somehow. This was how he +did: Hopeful is still shown to his neck above the water of death; but +Christian has bodily disappeared, and a blot of solid blackness +indicates his place. + +As you continue to look at these pictures, about an inch square for the +most part, sometimes printed three or more to the page, and each having +a printed legend of its own, however trivial the event recorded, you +will soon become aware of two things: first, that the man can draw, and, +second, that he possesses the gift of an imagination. "Obstinate +reviles," says the legend; and you should see Obstinate reviling. "He +warily retraces his steps"; and there is Christian, posting through the +plain, terror and speed in every muscle. "Mercy yearns to go" shows you +a plain interior with packing going forward, and, right in the middle, +Mercy yearning to go--every line of the girl's figure yearning. In "The +Chamber called Peace" we see a simple English room, bed with white +curtains, window valance and door, as may be found in many thousand +unpretentious houses; but far off, through the open window, we behold +the sun uprising out of a great plain, and Christian hails it with his +hand: + + "Where am I now! is this the love and care + Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are! + Thus to provide! That I should be forgiven! + And dwell already the next door to heaven!" + +A page or two further, from the top of the House Beautiful, the damsels +point his gaze toward the Delectable Mountains: "The Prospect," so the +cut is ticketed--and I shall be surprised, if on less than a square of +paper you can show me one so wide and fair. Down a cross road on an +English plain, a cathedral city outlined on the horizon, a hazel shaw +upon the left, comes Madam Wanton dancing with her fair enchanted cup, +and Faithful, book in hand, half pauses. The cut is perfect as a symbol; +the giddy movement of the sorceress, the uncertain poise of the man +struck to the heart by a temptation, the contrast of that even plain of +life whereon he journeys with the bold, ideal bearing of the wanton--the +artist who invented and portrayed this had not merely read Bunyan, he +had also thoughtfully lived. The Delectable Mountains--I continue +skimming the first part--are not on the whole happily rendered. Once, +and once only, the note is struck, when Christian and Hopeful are seen +coming, shoulder-high, through a thicket of green shrubs--box, perhaps, +or perfumed nutmeg; while behind them, domed or pointed, the hills stand +ranged against the sky. A little further, and we come to that +masterpiece of Bunyan's insight into life, the Enchanted Ground; where, +in a few traits, he has set down the latter end of such a number of the +would-be good; where his allegory goes so deep that, to people looking +seriously on life, it cuts like satire. The true significance of this +invention lies, of course, far out of the way of drawing; only one +feature, the great tedium of the land, the growing weariness in +welldoing, may be somewhat represented in a symbol. The pilgrims are +near the end: "Two Miles Yet," says the legend. The road goes ploughing +up and down over a rolling heath; the wayfarers, with outstretched arms, +are already sunk to the knees over the brow of the nearest hill; they +have just passed a milestone with the cipher two; from overhead a great, +piled, summer cumulus, as of a slumberous summer afternoon, beshadows +them: two miles! it might be hundreds. In dealing with the Land of +Beulah the artist lags, in both parts, miserably behind the text, but in +the distant prospect of the Celestial City more than regains his own. +You will remember when Christian and Hopeful "with desire fell sick." +"Effect of the Sunbeams" is the artist's title. Against the sky, upon a +cliffy mountain, the radiant temple beams upon them over deep, subjacent +woods; they, behind a mound, as if seeking shelter from the +splendour--one prostrate on his face, one kneeling, and with hands +ecstatically lifted--yearn with passion after that immortal city. Turn +the page, and we behold them walking by the very shores of death; +Heaven, from this nigher view, has risen half-way to the zenith, and +sheds a wider glory; and the two pilgrims, dark against that brightness, +walk and sing out of the fulness of their hearts. No cut more thoroughly +illustrates at once the merit and the weakness of the artist. Each +pilgrim sings with a book in his grasp--a family Bible at the least for +bigness; tomes so recklessly enormous that our second impulse is to +laughter. And yet that is not the first thought, nor perhaps the last. +Something in the attitude of the manikins--faces they have none, they +are too small for that--something in the way they swing these monstrous +volumes to their singing, something perhaps borrowed from the text, some +subtle differentiation from the cut that went before and the cut that +follows after--something, at least, speaks clearly of a fearful joy, of +Heaven seen from the deathbed, of the horror of the last passage no less +than of the glorious coming home. There is that in the action of one of +them which always reminds me, with a difference, of that haunting last +glimpse of Thomas Idle, travelling to Tyburn in the cart. Next come the +Shining Ones, wooden and trivial enough; the pilgrims pass into the +river; the blot already mentioned settles over and obliterates +Christian. In two more cuts we behold them drawing nearer to the other +shore; and then, between two radiant angels, one of whom points upward, +we see them mounting in new weeds, their former lendings left behind +them on the inky river. More angels meet them; Heaven is displayed, and +if no better, certainly no worse, than it has been shown by others--a +place, at least, infinitely populous and glorious with light--a place +that haunts solemnly the hearts of children. And then this symbolic +draughtsman once more strikes into his proper vein. Three cuts conclude +the first part. In the first the gates close, black against the glory +struggling from within. The second shows us Ignorance--alas! poor +Arminian!--hailing, in a sad twilight, the ferryman Vain-Hope; and in +the third we behold him, bound hand and foot, and black already with the +hue of his eternal fate, carried high over the mountain-tops of the +world by two angels of the anger of the Lord. "Carried to Another +Place," the artist enigmatically names his plate--a terrible design. + +Wherever he touches on the black side of the supernatural his pencil +grows more daring and incisive. He has many true inventions in the +perilous and diabolic; he has many startling nightmares realised. It is +not easy to select the best; some may like one and some another; the +nude, depilated devil bounding and casting darts against the Wicket +Gate; the scroll of flying horrors that hang over Christian by the Mouth +of Hell; the horned shade that comes behind him whispering blasphemies; +the daylight breaking through that rent cave-mouth of the mountains and +falling chill adown the haunted tunnel; Christian's further progress +along the causeway, between the two black pools, where, at every yard or +two, a gin, a pitfall, or a snare awaits the passer-by--loathsome white +devilkins harbouring close under the bank to work the springes, +Christian himself pausing and pricking with his sword's point at the +nearest noose, and pale discomfortable mountains rising on the farther +side; or yet again, the two ill-favoured ones that beset the first of +Christian's journey, with the frog-like structure of the skull, the +frog-like limberness of limbs--crafty, slippery, lustful-looking devils, +drawn always in outline as though possessed of a dim, infernal +luminosity. Horrid fellows are they, one and all; horrid fellows and +horrific scenes. In another spirit that Good-Conscience "to whom Mr. +Honest had spoken in his lifetime," a cowled, grey, awful figure, one +hand pointing to the heavenly shore, realises, I will not say all, but +some at least of the strange impressiveness of Bunyan's words. It is no +easy nor pleasant thing to speak in one's lifetime with Good-Conscience; +he is an austere, unearthly friend, whom maybe Torquemada knew; and the +folds of his raiment are not merely claustral, but have something of the +horror of the pall. Be not afraid, however; with the hand of that +appearance Mr. Honest will get safe across. + + +[Illustration: Obstinate reviles] + +[Illustration: Mr. Worldly-Wiseman] + +[Illustration: He warily retraces his steps] + +[Illustration: Christian at the gate] + +[Illustration: The parlour unswept] + +[Illustration: The chamber called Peace] + +[Illustration: The prospect] + +[Illustration: Is met by Apollyon] + +[Illustration: The fiend in discourse] + +[Illustration: The conflict] + +[Illustration: Close combat] + +[Illustration: The deadly thrust] + +[Illustration: Thanksgiving for victory] + +[Illustration: His last weapon--All-prayer] + +[Illustration: Whispering blasphemies] + +[Illustration: Snares, traps, gins, and pitfalls] + +[Illustration: Madam Wanton] + +[Illustration: Two miles yet] + +[Illustration: Effect of the sunbeams] + +[Illustration: Carried to another place] + + +Yet perhaps it is in sequences that this artist best displays himself. +He loves to look at either side of a thing: as, for instance, when he +shows us both sides of the wall--"Grace Inextinguishable" on the one +side, with the devil vainly pouring buckets on the flame, and "The Oil +of Grace" on the other, where the Holy Spirit, vessel in hand, still +secretly supplies the fire. He loves, also, to show us the same event +twice over, and to repeat his instantaneous photographs at the interval +of but a moment. So we have, first, the whole troop of pilgrims coming +up to Valiant, and Great-heart to the front, spear in hand and +parleying; and next, the same cross-roads, from a more distant view, the +convoy now scattered and looking safely and curiously on, and Valiant +handing over for inspection his "right Jerusalem blade." It is true that +this designer has no great care after consistency: Apollyon's spear is +laid by, his quiver of darts will disappear, whenever they might hinder +the designer's freedom; and the fiend's tail is blobbed or forked at his +good pleasure. But this is not unsuitable to the illustration of the +fervent Bunyan, breathing hurry and momentary inspiration. He, with +his hot purpose, hunting sinners with a lasso, shall himself forget the +things that he has written yesterday. He shall first slay Heedless in +the Valley of the Shadow, and then take leave of him talking in his +sleep, as if nothing had happened, in an arbour on the Enchanted Ground. +And again, in his rhymed prologue, he shall assign some of the glory of +the siege of Doubting Castle to his favourite Valiant-for-the-Truth, who +did not meet with the besiegers till long after, at that dangerous +corner by Deadman's Lane. And, with all inconsistencies and freedoms, +there is a power shown in these sequences of cuts: a power of joining on +one action or one humour to another; a power of following out the moods, +even of the dismal subterhuman fiends engendered by the artist's fancy; +a power of sustained continuous realisation, step by step, in nature's +order, that can tell a story, in all its ins and outs, its pauses and +surprises, fully and figuratively, like the art of words. + +One such sequence is the fight of Christian and Apollyon--six cuts, +weird and fiery, like the text. The pilgrim is throughout a pale and +stockish figure; but the devil covers a multitude of defects. There is +no better devil of the conventional order than our artist's Apollyon, +with his mane, his wings, his bestial legs, his changing and terrifying +expression, his infernal energy to slay. In cut the first you see him +afar off, still obscure in form, but already formidable in suggestion. +Cut the second, "The Fiend in Discourse," represents him, not reasoning, +railing rather, shaking his spear at the pilgrim, his shoulder advanced, +his tail writhing in the air, his foot ready for a spring, while +Christian stands back a little, timidly defensive. The third illustrates +these magnificent words: "Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole +breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter: prepare +thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal den that thou shalt go no +farther: here will I spill thy soul! And with that he threw a flaming +dart at his breast." In the cut he throws a dart with either hand, +belching pointed flames out of his mouth, spreading his broad vans, and +straddling the while across the path, as only a fiend can straddle who +has just sworn by his infernal den. The defence will not be long against +such vice, such flames, such red-hot nether energy. And in the fourth +cut, to be sure, he has leaped bodily upon his victim, sped by foot and +pinion, and roaring as he leaps. The fifth shows the climacteric of the +battle; Christian has reached nimbly out and got his sword, and dealt +that deadly home-thrust, the fiend still stretched upon him, but "giving +back, as one that had received his mortal wound." The raised head, the +bellowing mouth, the paw clapped upon the sword, the one wing relaxed in +agony, all realise vividly these words of the text. In the sixth and +last, the trivial armed figure of the pilgrim is seen kneeling with +clasped hands on the betrodden scene of contest and among the shivers of +the darts; while just at the margin the hinder quarters and the tail of +Apollyon are whisking off, indignant and discomfited. + +In one point only do these pictures seem to be unworthy of the text, and +that point is one rather of the difference of arts than the difference +of artists. Throughout his best and worst, in his highest and most +divine imaginations as in the narrowest sallies of his sectarianism, the +human-hearted piety of Bunyan touches and ennobles, convinces, accuses +the reader. Through no art beside the art of words can the kindness of a +man's affections be expressed. In the cuts you shall find faithfully +parodied the quaintness and the power, the triviality and the surprising +freshness of the author's fancy; there you shall find him outstripped in +ready symbolism and the art of bringing things essentially invisible +before the eyes: but to feel the contact of essential goodness, to be +made in love with piety, the book must be read and not the prints +examined. + +Farewell should not be taken with a grudge; nor can I dismiss in any +other words than those of gratitude a series of pictures which have, to +one at least, been the visible embodiment of Bunyan from childhood up, +and shown him, through all his years, Great-heart lungeing at Giant +Maul, and Apollyon breathing fire at Christian, and every turn and town +along the road to the Celestial City, and that bright place itself, seen +as to a stave of music, shining afar off upon the hill-top, the candle +of the world. + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [43] The illustrator was, in fact, a lady, Miss Eunice Bagster, + eldest daughter of the publisher, Samuel Bagster; except in the case + of the cuts depicting the fight with Apollyon, which were designed + by her brother, Mr. Jonathan Bagster. The edition was published in + 1845. I am indebted for this information to the kindness of Mr. + Robert Bagster, the present managing director of the firm.--SIR + SIDNEY COLVIN'S NOTE. + + + + + AN APPEAL + + TO THE + _Clergy of the Church of Scotland_ + + WITH A NOTE FOR THE LAITY + + "_Had I a strong voice, as it is the weakest alive, yea, could I lift + it up as a trumpet, I would sound a retreat from our unnatural + contentions, and irreligious strivings for religion_" + + ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON, 1669 + + + _William Blackwood & Sons_ + + _Edinburgh and London_ + 1875 + + Price 3d.] + + (_Facsimile of original Title-page_) + + + + +AN APPEAL TO THE CLERGY OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND + +WITH A NOTE FOR THE LAITY + + "Had I a strong voice, as it is the weakest alive, yea, could I lift + it up as a trumpet, I would sound a retreat from our unnatural + contentions, and irreligious strivings for religion."--ARCHBISHOP + LEIGHTON, 1669. + + +Gentlemen,--The position of the Church of Scotland is now one of +considerable difficulty; not only the credit of the Church, not only the +credit of Christianity, but to some extent also that of the national +character, is at stake. You have just gained a great victory, in spite +of an opposition neither very logical nor very generous; you have +succeeded in effecting, by quiet constitutional processes, a great +reform which brings your Church somewhat nearer in character to what is +required by your Dissenting brethren. It remains to be seen whether you +can prove yourselves as generous as you have been wise and patient. And +the position, as I say, is one of difficulty. Many, doubtless, left the +Church for a reason which is now removed; many have joined other sects +who would rather have joined themselves with you, had you been then as +you now are; and for these you are bound to render as easy as may be the +way of reconciliation, and show, by some notable action, the reality of +your own desire for Peace. But I am not unaware that there are others, +and those possibly a majority, who hold very different opinions--who +regard the old quarrel as still competent, or have found some new reason +for dissent; and from these the Church, if she makes such an advance as +she ought to make, in all loyalty and charity, may chance to meet that +most sensible of insults--ridicule, in return for an honest offer of +reconciliation. I am not unaware, also, that there is yet another ground +of difficulty; and that those even who would be most ready to hold the +cause of offence as now removed will find it hard to forget the +past--will continue to think themselves unjustly used--will not be +willing to come back, as though they were repentant offenders, among +those who delayed the reform and quietly enjoyed their benefices, while +they bore the heat and burthen of the day in a voluntary exile for the +Truth's sake. + +In view of so many elements of difficulty, no intelligent person can be +free from apprehension for the result; and you, gentlemen, may be +perhaps more ready now to receive advice, to hear and weigh the opinion +of one who is free, because he writes without name, than you would be at +any juncture less critical. There is now a hope, at least, that some +term may be put to our more clamorous dissensions. Those who are at all +open to a feeling of national disgrace look eagerly forward to such a +possibility; they have been witnesses already too long to the strife +that has divided this small corner of Christendom; and they cannot +remember without shame that there has been as much noise, as much +recrimination, as much severance of friends, about mere logical +abstractions in our remote island, as would have sufficed for the great +dogmatic battles of the Continent. It would be difficult to exaggerate +the pity that fills the heart at such a reflection; at the thought of +how this neck of barren hills between two inclement seaways has echoed +for three centuries with the uproar of sectarian battle; of how the east +wind has carried out the sound of our shrill disputations into the +desolate Atlantic, and the west wind has borne it over the German Ocean, +as though it would make all Europe privy to how well we Scottish +brethren abide together in unity. It is not a bright page in the annals +of a small country: it is not a pleasant commentary on the Christianity +that we profess; there is something in it pitiful, as I have said, for +the pitiful man, but bitterly humorous for others. How much time we have +lost, how much of the precious energy and patience of good men we have +exhausted, on these trivial quarrels, it would be nauseous to consider; +we know too much already when we know the facts in block; we know enough +to make us hide our heads for shame, and grasp gladly at any present +humiliation, if it would ensure a little more quiet, a little more +charity, a little more brotherly love in the distant future. + +And it is with this before your eyes that, as I feel certain, you are +now addressing yourselves to the consideration of this important crisis. +It is with a sense of the blackness of this discredit upon the national +character and national Christianity that not you alone but many of other +Churches are now setting themselves to square their future course with +the exigencies of the new position of sects; and it is with you that the +responsibility remains. The obligation lies ever on the victor; and just +so surely as you have succeeded in the face of captious opposition in +carrying forth the substance of a reform of which others had despaired, +just as surely does it lie upon you as a duty to take such steps as +shall make that reform available, not to you only, but to all your +brethren who will consent to profit by it; not only to all the clergy, +but to the cause of decency and peace, throughout your native land. It +is earnestly hoped that you may show yourselves worthy of a great +opportunity, and do more for the public minds by the example of one act +of generosity and humility than you could do by an infinite series of +sermons. + +Without doubt, it is your intention, on the earliest public opportunity, +to make some advance. Without doubt, it is your purpose to improve the +advantage you have gained, and to press upon those who quitted your +communion some thirty years ago your great desire to be once more united +to them. This, at least, will find a place in the most unfriendly +programme you can entertain; and if there are any in the Free Church (as +I doubt not there are some) who seceded, not so much from any dislike to +the just supremacy of the law, as from a belief that the law in these +ecclesiastical matters was applied unjustly, I know well that you will +be most eager to receive them back again; I know well that you will not +let any petty vanity, any scruple of worldly dignity, stand between them +and their honourable return. If, therefore, there were no more to be +done than to display to these voluntary exiles the deep sense of your +respect for their position, this appeal would be unnecessary, and you +might be left to the guidance of your own good feeling. + +But it seems to me that there is need of something more; it seems to me, +and I think that it will seem so to you also, that you must go even +further if you would be equal to the importance of the situation. If +there are any among the Dissenters whose consciences are so far +satisfied with the provisions of the recent Act that they could now +return to your communion, to such, it must not be forgotten, you stand +in a position of great delicacy. The conduct of these men you have so +far justified; you have tacitly admitted that there was some ground for +dissatisfaction with the former condition of the Church; and though you +may still judge those to have been over-scrupulous who were moved by +this imperfection to secede, instead of waiting patiently with you until +it could be remedied by peaceful means, you must not forget that it is +the strong stomach, according to St. Paul, that is to consider the weak, +and should come forward to meet these brethren with something better +than compliments upon your lips. Observe, I speak only of those who +would now see their way back to your communion with a clear conscience; +it is their conduct, and their conduct alone, that you have justified, +and therefore it is only for them that your special generosity is here +solicited. But towards them, if there are any such, your countrymen +would desire to see you behave with all consideration. I do not pretend +to lay before you any definite scheme of action; I wish only to let you +understand what thoughts are busy in the heads of some outside your +councils, so that you may take this also into consideration when you +come to decide. And this, roughly, is how it appears to these: These +good men have exposed themselves to the chance of hardship for the sake +of their scruples, whilst you being of a stronger stomach, continued to +enjoy the security of national endowments. Some of you occupy the very +livings which they resigned for conscience' sake. To others preferment +has fallen which would have fallen to them had they been still eligible. +If, then, any of them are now content to return, you are bound, if not +in justice, then in honour, to do all that you can to testify your +respect for brave conviction, and to repair to them such losses as they +may have suffered, whether for their first secession or their second. +You owe a special duty, not only to the courage that left the Church, +but to the wisdom and moderation that now returns to it. And your sense +of this duty will find a vent not only in word but in action. You will +facilitate their return not only by considerate and brotherly language +but by pecuniary aid; you will seek, by some new endowment scheme, to +preserve for them their ecclesiastical status. That they have no claim +will be their strongest claim on your consideration. Many of you, if not +all, will set apart some share out of your slender livings for their +assistance and support: you will give them what you can afford; and you +will say to them, as you do so, what I dare say to you, that what you +give is theirs--not only in honour but in justice. + +For you know that the justice which should rule the dealings of +Christians, how much more of Christian ministers, is not as the justice +of courts of law or equity; and those who profess the morality of Jesus +Christ have abjured, in that profession, all that can be urged by policy +or worldly prudence. From them we can accept no half-hearted and +calculating generosity; they must make haste to be liberal; they must +catch with eagerness at all opportunities of service, and the mere +whisper of an obligation should be to them more potent than the decree +of a court to others who make profession of a less stringent code. And +remember that it lies with you to show to the world that Christianity is +something more than a verbal system. In the lapse of generations men +grow weary of unsupported precept. They may wait long, and keep long in +memory the bright doings of former days, but they will weary at the +last; they will begin to trouble you for your credentials; if you cannot +give them miracles, they will demand virtue; if you cannot heal the +sick, they will call upon you for some practice of the Christian ethics. +Thus people will knock often at a door if only it be opened to them now +and again; but if the door remains closed too long, they will judge the +house uninhabited and go elsewhere. And thus it is that a season of +persecution, constantly endured, revives the fainting confidence of the +people, and some centuries of prosperity may prepare a Church for ruin. +You have here at your hand an opportunity to do more for the credit of +your Christianity than ever you could do by visions, miracles, or +prophecies. A sacrifice such as this would be better worth, as I said +before, than many sermons; and there is a disposition in mankind that +would ennoble it beyond much that is more ostentatious; for men, whether +lay or clerical, suffer better the flame of the stake than a daily +inconvenience or a pointed sneer, and will not readily be martyred +without some external circumstance and a concourse looking on. And you +need not fear that your virtue will be thrown away; the people of +Scotland will be quick to understand, in default of visible fire and +halter, that you have done a brave action for Christianity and the +national weal; and if they are spared in the future any of the present +ignoble jealousy of sect against sect, they will not forget that to that +end you gave of your household comfort and stinted your children. Even +if you fail--ay, and even if there were not found one to profit by your +invitation--your virtue would still have its own reward. Your +predecessors gave their lives for ends not always the most Christian; +they were tempted, and slain with the sword; they wandered in deserts +and in mountains, in caves and in dens of the earth. But your action +will not be less illustrious; what you may have to suffer may be a small +thing if the world will, but it will have been suffered for the cause of +peace and brotherly love. + +I have said that the people of Scotland will be quick to appreciate what +you do. You know well that they will be quick also to follow your +example. But the sign should come from you. It is more seemly that you +should lead than follow in this matter. Your predecessors gave the word +from their free pulpits which was to brace men for sectarian strife: it +would be a pleasant sequel if the word came from you that was to bid +them bury all jealousy, and forget the ugly and contentious past in a +good hope of peace to come. + +What is said in these few pages may be objected to as vague; it is no +more vague than the position seemed to me to demand. Each man must judge +for himself what it behoves him to do at this juncture, and the whole +Church for herself. All that is intended in this appeal is to begin, in +a tone of dignity and disinterestedness, the consideration of the +question; for when such matters are much pulled about in public prints, +and have been often discussed from many different, and not always from +very high, points of view, there is ever a tendency that the decision of +the parties may contract some taint of meanness from the spirit of their +critics. All that is desired is to press upon you, as ministers of the +Church of Scotland, some sense of the high expectation with which your +country looks to you at this time; and how many reasons there are that +you should show an example of signal disinterestedness and zeal in the +encouragement that you give to returning brethren. For, first, it lies +with you to clear the Church from the discredit of our miserable +contentions; and surely you can never have a fairer opportunity to +improve her claim to the style of a peacemaker. Again, it lies with +you, as I have said, to take the first step, and prove your own true +ardour for an honourable union; and how else are you to prove it? It +lies with you, moreover, to justify in the eyes of the world the time +you have been enjoying your benefices, while these others have +voluntarily shut themselves out from all participation in their +convenience; and how else are you to convince the world that there was +not something of selfishness in your motives? It lies with you, lastly, +to keep your example unspotted before your congregations; and I do not +know how better you are to do that. + +It is never a thankful office to offer advice; and advice is the more +unpalatable, not only from the difficulty of the service recommended, +but often from its very obviousness. We are fired with anger against +those who make themselves the spokesmen of plain obligations; for they +seem to insult us as they advise. In the present case I should have +feared to waken some such feeling, had it not been that I was addressing +myself to a body of special men on a very special occasion. I know too +much of the history of ideas to imagine that the sentiments advocated in +this appeal are peculiar to me and a few others. I am confident that +your own minds are already busy with similar reflections. But I know at +the same time how difficult it is for one man to speak to another in +such a matter; how he is withheld by all manner of personal +considerations, and dare not propose what he has nearest his heart, +because the other has a larger family or a smaller stipend, or is older, +more venerable, and more conscientious than himself; and it is in view +of this that I have determined to profit by the freedom of an anonymous +writer, and give utterance to what many of you would have uttered +already, had they been (as I am) apart from the battle. It is easy to be +virtuous when one's own convenience is not affected; and it is no shame +to any man to follow the advice of an outsider who owns that, while he +sees which is the better part, he might not have the courage to profit +himself by this opinion. + + +[_Note for the Laity_] + +The foregoing pages have been in type since the beginning of last +September. I have been advised to give them to the public; and it is +only necessary to add that nothing of all that has taken place since +they were written has made me modify an opinion or so much as change a +word. The question is not one that can be altered by circumstances. + +I need not tell the laity that with them this matter ultimately rests. +Whether we regard it as a question of mere expense or as a question of +good feeling against ill feeling, the solution must come from the Church +members. The lay purse is the long one; and if the lay opinion does not +speak from so high a place, it speaks all the week through and with +innumerable voices. Trumpets and captains are all very well in their +way; but if the trumpets were ever so clear, and the captains as bold as +lions, it is still the army that must take the fort. + +The laymen of the Church have here a question before them, on the +answering of which, as I still think, many others attend. If the +Established Church could throw off its lethargy, and give the Dissenters +some speaking token of its zeal for union, I still think that union, to +some extent, would be the result. There is a motion tabled (as I suppose +all know) for the next meeting of the General Assembly; but something +more than motions must be tabled, and something more must be given than +votes. It lies practically with the laymen, by a new endowment scheme, +to put the Church right with the world in two ways, so that those who +left it more than thirty years ago, and who may now be willing to +return, shall lose neither in money nor in ecclesiastical status. At the +outside, what will they have to do? They will have to do for (say) ten +years what the laymen of the Free Church have done cheerfully ever since +1843. + + _February 12th_ 1875. + + + + +THE CHARITY BAZAAR + +THE LIGHT-KEEPER + +ON A NEW FORM OF INTERMITTENT LIGHT FOR LIGHTHOUSES + +ON THE THERMAL INFLUENCE OF FORESTS + + + + +THE CHARITY BAZAAR + +AN ALLEGORICAL DIALOGUE + + * * * * * + +_PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE_ + + THE INGENUOUS PUBLIC + HIS WIFE + THE TOUT + + * * * * * + + _The Tout, in an allegorical costume, holding a silver trumpet in his + right hand, is discovered on the steps in front of the Bazaar. He + sounds a preliminary flourish._ + + +_The Tout_.--Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the honour to announce a sale +of many interesting, beautiful, rare, quaint, comical, and necessary +articles. Here you will find objects of taste, such as Babies' Shoes, +Children's Petticoats, and Shetland Wool Cravats; objects of general +usefulness, such as Tea-cosies, Bangles, Brahmin Beads, and Madras +Baskets; and objects of imperious necessity, such as Pen-wipers, Indian +Figures carefully repaired with glue, and Sealed Envelopes, containing a +surprise. And all this is not to be sold by your common Shopkeepers, +intent on small and legitimate profits, but by Ladies and Gentlemen, who +would as soon think of picking your pocket of a cotton handkerchief as +of selling a single one of these many interesting, beautiful, rare, +quaint, comical, and necessary articles at less than twice its market +value. (_He sounds another flourish_.) + +_The Wife._--This seems a very fair-spoken young man. + +_The Ingenuous Public_ (_addressing the Tout_).--Sir, I am a man of +simple and untutored mind; but I apprehend that this sale, of which you +give us so glowing a description, is neither more nor less than a +Charity Bazaar? + +_The Tout._--Sir, your penetration has not deceived you. + +_The Ingenuous Public._--Into which you seek to entice unwary +passengers? + +_The Tout._--Such is my office. + +_The Ingenuous Public._--But is not a Charity Bazaar, Sir, a place +where, for ulterior purposes, amateur goods are sold at a price above +their market value? + +_The Tout._--I perceive you are no novice. Let us sit down, all three, +upon the doorsteps, and reason this matter at length. The position is a +little conspicuous, but airy and convenient. + + (_The Tout seats himself on the second step, the Ingenuous Public and + his Wife to right and left of him, one step below._) + +_The Tout._--Shopping is one of the dearest pleasures of the human +heart. + +_The Wife._--Indeed, Sir, and that it is. + +_The Tout._--The choice of articles, apart from their usefulness, is an +appetising occupation, and to exchange bald, uniform shillings for a +fine big, figurative knick-knack, such as a windmill, a gross of green +spectacles, or a cocked hat, gives us a direct and emphatic sense of +gain. We have had many shillings before, as good as these; but this is +the first time we have possessed a windmill. Upon these principles of +human nature, Sir, is based the theory of the Charity Bazaar. People +were doubtless charitably disposed. The problem was to make the exercise +of charity entertaining in itself--you follow me, Madam?--and in the +Charity Bazaar a satisfactory solution was attained. The act of giving +away money for charitable purposes is, by this admirable invention, +transformed into an amusement, and puts on the externals of profitable +commerce. You play at shopping a while; and in order to keep up the +illusion, sham goods do actually change hands. Thus, under the +similitude of a game, I have seen children confronted with the horrors +of arithmetic, and even taught to gargle. + +_The Ingenuous Public._--You expound this subject very magisterially, +Sir. But tell me, would it not be possible to carry this element of play +still further? and after I had remained a proper time in the Bazaar, and +negotiated a sufficient number of sham bargains, would it not be +possible to return me my money in the hall? + +_The Tout._--I question whether that would not impair the humour of the +situation. And besides, my dear Sir, the pith of the whole device is to +take that money from you. + +_The Ingenuous Public._--True. But at least the Bazaar might take back +the tea-cosies and pen-wipers. + +_The Tout._--I have no doubt, if you were to ask it handsomely, that you +would be so far accommodated. Still it is out of the theory. The sham +goods, for which, believe me, I readily understand your +disaffection--the sham goods are well adapted for their purpose. Your +lady wife will lay these tea-cosies and pen-wipers aside in a safe +place, until she is asked to contribute to another Charity Bazaar. There +the tea-cosies and pen-wipers will be once more charitably sold. The new +purchasers, in their turn, will accurately imitate the dispositions of +your lady wife. In short, Sir, the whole affair is a cycle of +operations. The tea-cosies and pen-wipers are merely counters; they come +off and on again like a stage army; and year after year people pretend +to buy and pretend to sell them, with a vivacity that seems to indicate +a talent for the stage. But in the course of these illusory +manoeuvres, a great deal of money is given in charity, and that in a +picturesque, bustling, and agreeable manner. If you have to travel +somewhere on business, you would choose the prettiest route, and desire +pleasant companions by the way. And why not show the same spirit in +giving alms? + +_The Ingenuous Public._--Sir, I am profoundly indebted to you for all +you have said. I am, Sir, your absolute convert. + +_The Wife._--Let us lose no time, but enter the Charity Bazaar. + +_The Ingenuous Public._--Yes; let us enter the Charity Bazaar. + +_Both_ (_singing_).--Let us enter, let us enter, let us enter, Let us +enter the Charity Bazaar! + + (_An interval is supposed to elapse. The Ingenuous Public and his Wife + are discovered issuing from the Charity Bazaar._) + +_The Wife._--How fortunate you should have brought your cheque-book! + +_The Ingenuous Public._--Well, fortunate in a sense. (_Addressing the +Tout._)--Sir, I shall send a van in the course of the afternoon for the +little articles I have purchased. I shall not say good-bye; because I +shall probably take a lift in the front seat, not from any solicitude, +believe me, about the little articles, but as the last opportunity I may +have for some time of enjoying the costly entertainment of a drive. + + THE SCENE CLOSES + + + + +THE LIGHT-KEEPER + +I + + The brilliant kernel of the night, + The flaming lightroom circles me: + I sit within a blaze of light + Held high above the dusky sea. + Far off the surf doth break and roar + Along bleak miles of moonlit shore, + Where through the tides the tumbling wave + Falls in an avalanche of foam + And drives its churned waters home + Up many an undercliff and cave. + + The clear bell chimes: the clockworks strain: + The turning lenses flash and pass, + Frame turning within glittering frame + With frosty gleam of moving glass: + Unseen by me, each dusky hour + The sea-waves welter up the tower + Or in the ebb subside again; + And ever and anon all night, + Drawn from afar by charm of light, + A sea-bird beats against the pane. + + And lastly when dawn ends the night + And belts the semi-orb of sea, + The tall, pale pharos in the light + Looks white and spectral as may be. + The early ebb is out: the green + Straight belt of sea-weed now is seen, + That round the basement of the tower + Marks out the interspace of tide; + And watching men are heavy-eyed, + And sleepless lips are dry and sour. + + The night is over like a dream: + The sea-birds cry and dip themselves; + And in the early sunlight, steam + The newly-bared and dripping shelves, + Around whose verge the glassy wave + With lisping wash is heard to lave; + While, on the white tower lifted high, + With yellow light in faded glass + The circling lenses flash and pass, + And sickly shine against the sky. + + 1869. + + +II + + As the steady lenses circle + With a frosty gleam of glass; + And the clear bell chimes, + And the oil brims over the lip of the burner, + Quiet and still at his desk, + The lonely light-keeper + Holds his vigil. + + Lured from afar, + The bewildered sea-gull beats + Dully against the lantern; + Yet he stirs not, lifts not his head + From the desk where he reads, + Lifts not his eyes to see + The chill blind circle of night + Watching him through the panes. + This is his country's guardian, + The outmost sentry of peace. + This is the man, + Who gives up all that is lovely in living + For the means to live. + + Poetry cunningly gilds + The life of the Light-Keeper, + Held on high in the blackness + In the burning kernel of night. + The seaman sees and blesses him; + The Poet, deep in a sonnet, + Numbers his inky fingers + Fitly to praise him: + Only we behold him, + Sitting, patient and stolid, + Martyr to a salary. + + 1870. + + + + +ON A NEW FORM OF INTERMITTENT LIGHT FOR LIGHTHOUSES[44] + + +The necessity for marked characteristics in coast illumination increases +with the number of lights. The late Mr. Robert Stevenson, my +grandfather, contributed two distinctions, which he called respectively +the _intermittent_ and the _flashing_ light. It is only to the former of +these that I have to refer in the present paper. The intermittent light +was first introduced at Tarbetness in 1830, and is already in use at +eight stations on the coasts of the United Kingdom. As constructed +originally, it was an arrangement by which a fixed light was alternately +eclipsed and revealed. These recurrent occultations and revelations +produce an effect totally different from that of the revolving light, +which comes gradually into its full strength, and as gradually fades +away. The changes in the intermittent, on the other hand, are immediate; +a certain duration of darkness is followed at once and without the least +gradation by a certain period of light. The arrangement employed by my +grandfather to effect this object consisted of two opaque cylindric +shades or extinguishers, one of which descended from the roof, while the +other ascended from below to meet it, at a fixed interval. The light was +thus entirely intercepted. + +At a later period, at the harbour light of Troon, Mr. Wilson, C.E., +produced an intermittent light by the use of gas, which leaves little to +be desired, and which is still in use at Troon harbour. By a simple +mechanical contrivance, the gas jet was suddenly lowered to the point of +extinction, and, after a set period, as suddenly raised again. The chief +superiority of this form of intermittent light is economy in the +consumption of the gas. In the original design, of course, the oil +continues uselessly to illuminate the interior of the screens during the +period of occultation. + +Mr. Wilson's arrangement has been lately resuscitated by Mr. Wigham of +Dublin, in connection with his new gas-burner. + +Gas, however, is inapplicable to many situations; and it has occurred to +me that the desired result might be effected with strict economy with +oil lights, in the following manner:-- + +[Illustration: Fig. 1.] + +In Fig. 1, AAA represents in plan an ordinary Fresnel's dioptric fixed +light apparatus, and BB' a hemispherical mirror (either metallic or +dioptric on my father's principle) which is made to revolve with uniform +speed about the burner. This mirror, it is obvious, intercepts the rays +of one hemisphere, and, returning them through the flame (less loss by +absorption, etc.), spreads them equally over the other. In this way 180 +deg. of light pass regularly the eye of the seaman; and are followed at +once by 180 deg. of darkness. As the hemispherical mirror begins to open, +the observer receives the full light, since the whole lit hemisphere is +illuminated with strict equality; and as it closes again, he passes into +darkness. + +Other characteristics can be produced by different modifications of the +above. In Fig. 2 the original hemispherical mirror is shown broken up +into three different sectors, BB', CC', and DD'; so that with the same +velocity of revolution the periods of light and darkness will be +produced in quicker succession. In this figure (Fig. 2) the three +sectors have been shown as subtending equal angles, but if one of them +were increased in size and the other two diminished (as in Fig. 3), we +should have one long steady illumination and two short flashes at each +revolution. Again, the number of sectors may be increased; and by +varying both their number and their relative size, a number of +additional characteristics are attainable. + +[Illustration: Fig. 2.] + +Colour may also be introduced as a means of distinction. Coloured glass +may be set in the alternate spaces; but it is necessary to remark that +these coloured sectors will be inferior in power to those which remain +white. This objection is, however, obviated to a large extent +(especially where the dioptric spherical mirror is used) by such an +arrangement as is shown in Fig. 4; where the two sectors, WW, are left +unassisted, while the two with the red screens are reinforced +respectively by the two sectors of mirror, MM. + +[Illustration: Fig. 3.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 4.] + +Another mode of holophotally producing the intermittent light has been +suggested by my father, and is shown in Fig. 5. It consists of alternate +and opposite sectors of dioptric spherical mirror, MM, and of Fresnel's +fixed light apparatus, AA. By the revolution of this composite frame +about the burner, the same immediate alternation of light and darkness +is produced, the first when the front of the fixed panel, and the +second when the back of the mirror, is presented to the eye of the +sailor. + +One advantage of the method that I propose is this, that while we are +able to produce a plain intermittent light; an intermittent light of +variable period, ranging from a brief flash to a steady illumination of +half the revolution; and finally, a light combining the immediate +occultation of the intermittent with combination and change of colour, +we can yet preserve comparative lightness in the revolving parts, and +consequent economy in the driving machinery. It must, however, be +noticed, that none of these last methods are applicable to cases where +more than one radiant is employed: for these cases, either my +grandfather's or Mr. Wilson's contrivance must be resorted to. + +[Illustration: Fig. 5.] + + +FOOTNOTE: + + [44] Read before the Royal Scottish Society of Arts on 27th March + 1871, and awarded the Society's Silver Medal. + + + + +ON THE THERMAL INFLUENCE OF FORESTS[45] + + +The opportunity of an experiment on a comparatively large scale, and +under conditions of comparative isolation, can occur but rarely in such +a science as Meteorology. Hence Mr. Milne Home's proposal for the +plantation of Malta seemed to offer an exceptional opportunity for +progress. Many of the conditions are favourable to the simplicity of the +result; and it seemed natural that, if a searching and systematic series +of observations were to be immediately set afoot, and continued during +the course of the plantation and the growth of the wood, some light +would be thrown on the still doubtful question of the climatic influence +of forests. + +Mr. Milne Home expects, as I gather, a threefold result:--1st, an +increased and better regulated supply of available water; 2nd, an +increased rainfall; and, 3rd, a more equable climate, with more +temperate summer heat and winter cold.[46] As to the first of these +expectations, I suppose there can be no doubt that it is justified by +facts; but it may not be unnecessary to guard against any confusion of +the first with the second. Not only does the presence of growing timber +increase and regulate the supply of running and spring water +independently of any change in the amount of rainfall, but as +Boussingault found at Marmato,[47] denudation of forest is sufficient to +decrease that supply, even when the rainfall has increased instead of +diminished in amount. The second and third effects stand apart, +therefore, from any question as to the utility of Mr. Milne Home's +important proposal; they are both, perhaps, worthy of discussion at the +present time, but I wish to confine myself in the present paper to the +examination of the third alone. + +A wood, then, may be regarded either as a _superficies_ or as a _solid_; +that is, either as a part of the earth's surface slightly elevated above +the rest, or as a diffused and heterogeneous body displacing a certain +portion of free and mobile atmosphere. It is primarily in the first +character that it attracts our attention, as a radiating and absorbing +surface, exposed to the sun and the currents of the air; such that, if +we imagine a plateau of meadow-land or bare earth raised to the mean +level of the forest's exposed leaf-surface, we shall have an agent +entirely similar in kind, although perhaps widely differing in the +amount of action. Now, by comparing a tract of wood with such a plateau +as we have just supposed, we shall arrive at a clear idea of the +specialities of the former. In the first place, then, the mass of +foliage may be expected to increase the radiating power of each tree. +The upper leaves radiate freely towards the stars and the cold +inter-stellar spaces, while the lower ones radiate to those above and +receive less heat in return; consequently, during the absence of the +sun, each tree cools gradually downward from top to bottom. Hence we +must take into account not merely the area of leaf-surface actually +exposed to the sky, but, to a greater or less extent, the surface of +every leaf in the whole tree or the whole wood. This is evidently a +point in which the action of the forest may be expected to differ from +that of the meadow or naked earth; for though, of course, inferior +strata tend to a certain extent to follow somewhat the same course as +the mass of inferior leaves, they do so to a less degree--conduction, +and the conduction of a very slow conductor, being substituted for +radiation. + +We come next, however, to a second point of difference. In the case of +the meadow, the chilled air continues to lie upon the surface, the +grass, as Humboldt says, remaining all night submerged in the stratum of +lowest temperature; while in the case of trees, the coldest air is +continually passing down to the space underneath the boughs, or what we +may perhaps term the crypt of the forest. Here it is that the +consideration of any piece of woodland conceived as a solid comes +naturally in; for this solid contains a portion of the atmosphere, +partially cut off from the rest, more or less excluded from the +influence of wind, and lying upon a soil that is screened all day from +isolation by the impending mass of foliage. In this way (and chiefly, I +think, from the exclusion of winds), we have underneath the radiating +leaf-surface a stratum of comparatively stagnant air, protected from +many sudden variations of temperature, and tending only slowly to bring +itself into equilibrium with the more general changes that take place in +the free atmosphere. + +Over and above what has been mentioned, thermal effects have been +attributed to the vital activity of the leaves in the transudation of +water, and even to the respiration and circulation of living wood. The +whole actual amount of thermal influence, however, is so small that I +may rest satisfied with mere mention. If these actions have any effect +at all, it must be practically insensible; and the others that I have +already stated are not only sufficient validly to account for all the +observed differences, but would lead naturally to the expectation of +differences very much larger and better marked. To these observations I +proceed at once. Experience has been acquired upon the following three +points:--1, The relation between the temperature of the trunk of a tree +and the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere; 2, The relation +between the temperature of the air under a wood and the temperature of +the air outside; and, 3, The relation between the temperature of the air +above a wood and the temperature of the air above cleared land. + +As to the first question, there are several independent series of +observations; and I may remark in passing, what applies to all, that +allowance must be made throughout for some factor of specific heat. The +results were as follows:--The seasonal and monthly means in the tree and +in the air were not sensibly different. The variations in the tree, in +M. Becquerel's own observations, appear as considerably less than a +fourth of those in the atmosphere, and he has calculated, from +observations made at Geneva between 1796 and 1798, that the variations +in the tree were less than a fifth of those in the air; but the tree in +this case, besides being of a different species, was seven or eight +inches thicker than the one experimented on by himself.[48] The +variations in the tree, therefore, are always less than those in the +air, the ratio between the two depending apparently on the thickness of +the tree in question and the rapidity with which the variations followed +upon one another. The times of the maxima, moreover, were widely +different: in the air, the maximum occurs at 2 P.M. in winter, and at 3 +P.M. in summer; in the tree, it occurs in winter at 6 P.M., and in +summer between 10 and 11 P.M. At nine in the morning in the month of +June, the temperatures of the tree and of the air had come to an +equilibrium. A similar difference of progression is visible in the +means, which differ most in spring and autumn, and tend to equalise +themselves in winter and in summer. But it appears most strikingly in +the case of variations somewhat longer in period than the daily ranges. +The following temperatures occurred during M. Becquerel's observations +in the Jardin des Plantes:-- + + Date. Temperature of Temperature in + the Air. the Tree. + + 1859. Dec. 15, 26.78 deg. 32 deg. + " 16, 19.76 deg. 32 deg. + " 17, 17.78 deg. 31.46 deg. + " 18, 13.28 deg. 30.56 deg. + " 19, 12.02 deg. 28.40 deg. + " 20, 12.54 deg. 25.34 deg. + " 21, 38.30 deg. 27.86 deg. + " 22, 43.34 deg. 30.92 deg. + " 23, 44.06 deg. 31.46 deg. + +A moment's comparison of the two columns will make the principle +apparent. The temperature of the air falls nearly fifteen degrees in +five days; the temperature of the tree, sluggishly following, falls in +the same time less than four degrees. Between the 19th and the 20th the +temperature of the air has changed its direction of motion, and risen +nearly a degree; but the temperature of the tree persists in its former +course, and continues to fall nearly three degrees farther. On the 21st +there comes a sudden increase of heat, a sudden thaw; the temperature of +the air rises twenty-five and a half degrees; the change at last reaches +the tree, but only raises its temperature by less than three degrees; +and even two days afterwards, when the air is already twelve degrees +above freezing point, the tree is still half a degree below it. Take, +again, the following case:-- + + Date Temperature of Temperature in + the Air. the Tree. + + 1859. July 13, 84.92 deg. 76.28 deg. + " 14, 82.58 deg. 78.62 deg. + " 15, 80.42 deg. 77.72 deg. + " 16, 79.88 deg. 78.44 deg. + " 17, 73.22 deg. 75.92 deg. + " 18, 68.54 deg. 74.30 deg. + " 19, 65.66 deg. 70.70 deg. + +The same order reappears. From the 13th to the 19th the temperature of +the air steadily falls, while the temperature of the tree continues +apparently to follow the course of previous variations, and does not +really begin to fall, is not really affected by the ebb of heat, until +the 17th, three days at least after it had been operating in the +air.[49] Hence we may conclude that all variations of the temperature +of the air, whatever be their period, from twenty-four hours up to +twelve months, are followed in the same manner by variations in the +temperature of the tree; and that those in the tree are always less in +amount and considerably slower of occurrence than those in the air. This +_thermal sluggishness_, so to speak, seems capable of explaining all the +phenomena of the case without any hypothetical vital power of resisting +temperatures below the freezing point, such as is hinted at even by +Becquerel. + +Reaumur, indeed, is said to have observed temperatures in slender trees +nearly thirty degrees higher than the temperature of the air in the sun; +but we are not informed as to the conditions under which this +observation was made, and it is therefore impossible to assign to it its +proper value. The sap of the ice-plant is said to be materially colder +than the surrounding atmosphere; and there are several other somewhat +incongruous facts, which tend, at first sight, to favour the view of +some inherent power of resistance in some plants to high temperatures, +and in others to low temperatures.[50] But such a supposition seems in +the meantime to be gratuitous. Keeping in view the thermal +redispositions, which must be greatly favoured by the ascent of the sap, +and the difference between the condition as to temperature of such parts +as the root, the heart of the trunk, and the extreme foliage, and never +forgetting the unknown factor of specific heat, we may still regard it +as possible to account for all anomalies without the aid of any such +hypothesis. We may, therefore, I think, disregard small exceptions, and +state the result as follows:-- + +If, after every rise or fall, the temperature of the air remained +stationary for a length of time proportional to the amount of the +change, it seems probable--setting aside all question of vital +heat--that the temperature of the tree would always finally equalise +itself with the new temperature of the air, and that the range in tree +and atmosphere would thus become the same. This pause, however, does not +occur: the variations follow each other without interval; and the +slow-conducting wood is never allowed enough time to overtake the rapid +changes of the more sensitive air. Hence, so far as we can see at +present, trees appear to be simply bad conductors, and to have no more +influence upon the temperature of their surroundings than is fully +accounted for by the consequent tardiness of their thermal variations. + +Observations bearing on the second of the three points have been made by +Becquerel in France, by La Cour in Jutland and Iceland, and by Rivoli at +Posen. The results are perfectly congruous. Becquerel's observations[51] +were made under wood, and about a hundred yards outside in open ground, +at three stations in the district of Montargis, Loiret. There was a +difference of more than one degree Fahrenheit between the mean annual +temperatures in favour of the open ground. The mean summer temperature +in the wood was from two to three degrees lower than the mean summer +temperature outside. The mean maxima in the wood were also lower than +those without by a little more than two degrees. Herr La Cour[52] found +the daily range consistently smaller inside the wood than outside. As +far as regards the mean winter temperatures, there is an excess in +favour of the forest, but so trifling in amount as to be unworthy of +much consideration. Libri found that the minimum winter temperatures +were not sensibly lower at Florence, after the Apennines had been +denuded of forest, than they had been before.[53] The disheartening +contradictoriness of his observations on this subject led Herr Rivoli to +the following ingenious and satisfactory comparison.[54] Arranging his +results according to the wind that blew on the day of observation, he +set against each other the variation of the temperature under wood from +that without, and the variation of the temperature of the wind from the +local mean for the month:-- + + +-------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Wind. | N. | N.E.| E. | S.E.| S. | S.W.| W. | N.W.| + | |-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----| + |Var. in Wood |+0.60|+0.26|+0.26|+0.04|-0.04|-0.20|+0.16|+0.07| + |Var. in Wind |-0.30|-2.60|-3.30|-1.20|+1.00|+1.30|+1.00|+1.00| + +-------------------------------------------------------------+ + +From this curious comparison, it becomes apparent that the variations of +the difference in question depend upon the amount of variations of +temperature which take place in the free air, and on the slowness with +which such changes are communicated to the stagnant atmosphere of woods; +in other words, as Herr Rivoli boldly formulates it, a forest is simply +a bad conductor. But this is precisely the same conclusion as we have +already arrived at with regard to individual trees; and in Herr Rivoli's +table, what we see is just another case of what we saw in M. +Becquerel's--the different progression of temperatures. It must be +obvious, however, that the thermal condition of a single tree must be +different in many ways from that of a combination of trees and more or +less stagnant air, such as we call a forest. And accordingly we find, in +the case of the latter, the following new feature: The mean yearly +temperature of woods is lower than the mean yearly temperature of free +air, while they are decidedly colder in summer, and very little, if at +all, warmer in winter. Hence, on the whole, forests are colder than +cleared lands. But this is just what might have been expected from the +amount of evaporation, the continued descent of cold air, and its +stagnation in the close and sunless crypt of a forest; and one can only +wonder here, as elsewhere, that the resultant difference is so +insignificant and doubtful. + +We come now to the third point in question, the thermal influence of +woods upon the air above them. It will be remembered that we have seen +reason to believe their effect to be similar to that of certain other +surfaces, except in so far as it may be altered, in the case of the +forest, by the greater extent of effective radiating area, and by the +possibility of generating a descending cold current as well as an +ascending hot one. M. Becquerel is (so far as I can learn) the only +observer who has taken up the elucidation of this subject. He placed his +thermometers at three points:[55] A and B were both about seventy feet +above the surface of the ground; but A was at the summit of a chestnut +tree, while B was in the free air, fifty feet away from the other. C was +four or five feet above the ground, with a northern exposure; there was +also a fourth station to the south, at the same level as this last, but +its readings are very seldom referred to. After several years of +observation, the mean temperature at A was found to be between one and +two degrees higher than that at B. The order of progression of +differences is as instructive here as in the two former investigations. +The maximum difference in favour of station A occurred between three and +five in the afternoon, later or sooner according as there had been more +or less sunshine, and ranged sometimes as high as seven degrees. After +this the difference kept declining until sunrise, when there was often a +difference of a degree, or a degree and a half, upon the other side. On +cloudy days the difference tended to a minimum. During a rainy month of +April, for example, the difference in favour of station A was less than +half a degree; the first fifteen days of May following, however, were +sunny, and the difference rose to more than a degree and a half.[56] It +will be observed that I have omitted up to the present point all mention +of station C. I do so because M. Becquerel's language leaves it doubtful +whether the observations made at this station are logically comparable +with those made at the other two. If the end in view were to compare +the progression of temperatures above the earth, above a tree, and in +free air, removed from all such radiative and absorptive influences, it +is plain that all three should have been equally exposed to the sun or +kept equally in shadow. As the observations were made, they give us no +notion of the relative action of earth-surface and forest-surface upon +the temperature of the contiguous atmosphere; and this, as it seems to +me, was just the _crux_ of the problem. So far, however, as they go, +they seem to justify the view that all these actions are the same in +kind, however they may differ in degree. We find the forest heating the +air during the day, and heating it more or less according as there has +been more or less sunshine for it to absorb, and we find it also +chilling it during the night; both of which are actions common to any +radiating surface, and would be produced, if with differences of amount +and time, by any other such surface raised to the mean level of the +exposed foliage. + +To recapitulate: + +1st. We find that single trees appear to act simply as bad conductors. + +2nd. We find that woods, regarded as solids, are, on the whole, slightly +lower in temperature than the free air which they have displaced, and +that they tend slowly to adapt themselves to the various thermal changes +that take place without them. + +3rd. We find forests regarded as surfaces acting like any other part of +the earth's surface, probably with more or less difference in amount and +progression, which we still lack the information necessary to estimate. + +All this done, I am afraid that there can be little doubt that the more +general climatic investigations will be long and vexatious. Even in +South America, with extremely favourable conditions, the result is far +from being definite. Glancing over the table published by M. Becquerel +in his book on climates, from the observations of Humboldt, Hall, +Boussingault, and others, it becomes evident, I think, that nothing can +be founded upon the comparisons therein instituted; that all reasoning, +in the present state of our information, is premature and unreliable. +Strong statements have certainly been made; and particular cases lend +themselves to the formation of hasty judgments. "From the Bay of Cupica +to the Gulf of Guayaquil," says M. Boussingault, "the country is covered +with immense forest and traversed by numerous rivers; it rains there +almost ceaselessly; and the mean temperature of this moist district +scarcely reaches 78.8 deg. F.... At Payta commence the sandy deserts of +Priura and Sechura; to the constant humidity of Choco succeeds almost at +once an extreme of dryness; and the mean temperature of the coast +increases at the same time by 1.8 deg. F."[57] Even in this selected +favourable instance it might be argued that the part performed in the +change by the presence or absence of forest was comparatively small; +there seems to have been, at the same time, an entire change of soil; +and, in our present ignorance, it would be difficult to say by how much +this of itself is able to affect the climate. Moreover, it is possible +that the humidity of the one district is due to other causes besides the +presence of wood, or even that the presence of wood is itself only an +effect of some more general difference or combination of differences. Be +that as it may, however, we have only to look a little longer at the +table before referred to, to see how little weight can be laid on such +special instances. Let us take five stations, all in this very district +of Choco. Hacquita is eight hundred and twenty feet above Novita, and +their mean temperatures are the same. Alto de Mombu, again, is five +hundred feet higher than Hacquita, and the mean temperature has here +fallen nearly two degrees. Go up another five hundred feet to Tambo de +la Orquita, and again we find no fall in the mean temperature. Go up +some five hundred further to Chami, and there is a fall in the mean +temperature of nearly six degrees. Such numbers are evidently quite +untrustworthy; and hence we may judge how much confidence can be placed +in any generalisation from these South American mean temperatures. + +The question is probably considered too simply--too much to the neglect +of concurrent influences. Until we know, for example, somewhat more of +the comparative radiant powers of different soils, we cannot expect any +very definite result. A change of temperature would certainly be +effected by the plantation of such a marshy district as the Sologne, +because, if nothing else were done, the roots might pierce the +impenetrable subsoil, allow the surface-water to drain itself off, and +thus dry the country. But might not the change be quite different if the +soil planted were a shifting sand, which, _fixed_ by the roots of the +trees, would become gradually covered with a vegetable earth, and be +thus changed from dry to wet? Again, the complication and conflict of +effects arises, not only from the soil, vegetation, and geographical +position of the place of the experiment itself, but from the +distribution of similar or different conditions in its immediate +neighbourhood, and probably to great distances on every side. A forest, +for example, as we know from Herr Rivoli's comparison, would exercise a +perfectly different influence in a cold country subject to warm winds, +and in a warm country subject to cold winds; so that our question might +meet with different solutions even on the east and west coasts of Great +Britain. + +The consideration of such a complexity points more and more to the +plantation of Malta as an occasion of special importance; its insular +position and the unity of its geological structure both tend to simplify +the question. There are certain points about the existing climate, +moreover, which seem specially calculated to throw the influence of +woods into a strong relief. Thus, during four summer months, there is +practically no rainfall. Thus, again, the northerly winds when stormy, +and especially in winter, tend to depress the temperature very suddenly; +and thus, too, the southerly and south-westerly winds, which raise the +temperature during their prevalence to from eighty-eight to ninety-eight +degrees, seldom last longer than a few hours; insomuch that "their +disagreeable heat and dryness may be escaped by carefully closing the +windows and doors of apartments at their onset."[58] Such sudden and +short variations seem just what is wanted to accentuate the differences +in question. Accordingly, the opportunity seems one not lightly to be +lost, and the British Association or this Society itself might take the +matter up and establish a series of observations, to be continued during +the next few years. Such a combination of favourable circumstances may +not occur again for years; and when the whole subject is at a standstill +for want of facts, the present occasion ought not to go past unimproved. + +Such observations might include the following:-- + +The observation of maximum and minimum thermometers in three different +classes of situation--_videlicet_, in the areas selected for plantation +themselves, at places in the immediate neighbourhood of those areas +where the external influence might be expected to reach its maximum, and +at places distant from those areas where the influence might be expected +to be least. + +The observation of rain-gauges and hygrometers at the same three +descriptions of locality. + +In addition to the ordinary hours of observation, special readings of +the thermometers should be made as often as possible at a change of wind +and throughout the course of the short hot breezes alluded to already, +in order to admit of the recognition and extension of Herr Rivoli's +comparison. + +Observation of the periods and forces of the land and sea breezes. + +Gauging of the principal springs, both in the neighbourhood of the areas +of plantation and at places far removed from those areas. + + 1873. + + +FOOTNOTES: + + [45] Read before the Royal Society, Edinburgh, 19th May 1873, and + reprinted from the _Proceedings_ R.S.E. + + [46] _Jour. Scot. Met. Soc._, New Ser. xxvi. 35. + + [47] Quoted by Mr. Milne Home. + + [48] _Atlas Meteorologique de l'Observatoire Imperial_, 1867. + + [49] _Comptes Rendus de l'Academie_, 29th March 1869. + + [50] Professor Balfour's "Class Book of Botany," Physiology, chap. + xii., p. 670. + + [51] _Comptes Rendus_, 1867 and 1869. + + [52] See his paper. + + [53] _Annales de Chimie et de Physique_, xlv., 1830. A more detailed + comparison of the climates in question would be a most interesting + and important contribution to the subject. + + [54] Reviewed in the _Austrian Meteorological Magazine_, vol. iv.; + p. 543. + + [55] _Comptes Rendus_, 28th May 1860. + + [56] _Ibid._, 20th May 1861. + + [57] Becquerel, "Climats," p. 141. + + [58] Scoresby-Jackson's "Medical Climatology." + + + + +ESSAYS OF TRAVEL + + + + +ESSAYS OF TRAVEL + +I + +DAVOS IN WINTER + + +A mountain valley has, at the best, a certain prison-like effect on the +imagination, but a mountain valley, an Alpine winter, and an invalid's +weakness make up among them a prison of the most effective kind. The +roads indeed are cleared, and at least one footpath dodging up the hill; +but to these the health-seeker is rigidly confined. There are for him no +cross-cuts over the field, no following of streams, no unguided rambles +in the wood. His walks are cut and dry. In five or six different +directions he can push as far, and no farther, than his strength +permits; never deviating from the line laid down for him and beholding +at each repetition the same field of wood and snow from the same corner +of the road. This, of itself, would be a little trying to the patience +in the course of months; but to this is added, by the heaped mantle of +the snow, an almost utter absence of detail and an almost unbroken +identity of colour. Snow, it is true, is not merely white. The sun +touches it with roseate and golden lights. Its own crushed infinity of +crystals, its own richness of tiny sculpture, fills it, when regarded +near at hand, with wonderful depths of coloured shadow, and, though +wintrily transformed, it is still water, and has watery tones of blue. +But, when all is said, these fields of white and blots of crude black +forest are but a trite and staring substitute for the infinite variety +and pleasantness of the earth's face. Even a boulder, whose front is too +precipitous to have retained the snow, seems, if you come upon it in +your walk, a perfect gem of colour, reminds you almost painfully of +other places, and brings into your head the delights of more Arcadian +days--the path across the meadow, the hazel dell, the lilies on the +stream, and the scents, the colours, and the whisper of the woods. And +scents here are as rare as colours. Unless you get a gust of kitchen in +passing some hotel, you shall smell nothing all day long but the faint +and choking odour of frost. Sounds, too, are absent: not a bird pipes, +not a bough waves, in the dead, windless atmosphere. If a sleigh goes +by, the sleigh-bells ring, and that is all; you work all winter through +to no other accompaniment but the crunching of your steps upon the +frozen snow. + +It is the curse of the Alpine valleys to be each one village from one +end to the other. Go where you please, houses will still be in sight, +before and behind you, and to the right and left. Climb as high as an +invalid is able, and it is only to spy new habitations nested in the +wood. Nor is that all; for about the health resort the walks are +besieged by single people walking rapidly with plaids about their +shoulders, by sudden troops of German boys trying to learn to joedel, and +by German couples silently and, as you venture to fancy, not quite +happily, pursuing love's young dream. You may perhaps be an invalid who +likes to make bad verses as he walks about. Alas! no muse will suffer +this imminence of interruption--and at the second stampede of joedellers +you find your modest inspiration fled. Or you may only have a taste for +solitude; it may try your nerves to have some one always in front whom +you are visibly overtaking, and some one always behind who is audibly +overtaking you, to say nothing of a score or so who brush past you in an +opposite direction. It may annoy you to take your walks and seats in +public view. Alas! there is no help for it among the Alps. There are no +recesses, as in Gorbio Valley by the oil-mill; no sacred solitude of +olive gardens on the Roccabruna-road; no nook upon St. Martin's Cape, +haunted by the voice of breakers, and fragrant with the three-fold +sweetness of the rosemary and the sea-pines and the sea. + +For this publicity there is no cure, and no alleviation; but the storms +of which you will complain so bitterly while they endure, chequer and by +their contrast brighten the sameness of the fair-weather scenes. When +sun and storm contend together--when the thick clouds are broken up and +pierced by arrows of golden daylight--there will be startling +rearrangements and transfigurations of the mountain summits. A +sun-dazzling spire of alp hangs suspended in mid-sky among awful glooms +and blackness; or perhaps the edge of some great mountain shoulder will +be designed in living gold, and appear for the duration of a glance +bright like a constellation, and alone "in the unapparent." You may +think you know the figure of these hills; but when they are thus +revealed, they belong no longer to the things of earth--meteors we +should rather call them, appearances of sun and air that endure but for +a moment and return no more. Other variations are more lasting, as when, +for instance, heavy and wet snow has fallen through some windless hours, +and the thin, spiry mountain pine-trees stand each stock-still and +loaded with a shining burthen. You may drive through a forest so +disguised, the tongue-tied torrent struggling silently in the cleft of +the ravine, and all still except the jingle of the sleigh bells, and you +shall fancy yourself in some untrodden northern territory--Lapland, +Labrador, or Alaska. + +Or, possibly, you arise very early in the morning; totter down-stairs in +a state of somnambulism; take the simulacrum of a meal by the glimmer of +one lamp in the deserted coffee-room; and find yourself by seven o'clock +outside in a belated moonlight and a freezing chill. The mail sleigh +takes you up and carries you on, and you reach the top of the ascent in +the first hour of the day. To trace the fires of the sunrise as they +pass from peak to peak, to see the unlit tree-tops stand out soberly +against the lighted sky, to be for twenty minutes in a wonderland of +clear, fading shadows, disappearing vapours, solemn blooms of dawn, +hills half glorified already with the day and still half confounded with +the greyness of the western heaven--these will seem to repay you for the +discomforts of that early start; but as the hour proceeds, and these +enchantments vanish, you will find yourself upon the farther side in yet +another Alpine valley, snow white and coal black, with such another +long-drawn congeries of hamlets and such another senseless watercourse +bickering along the foot. You have had your moment; but you have not +changed the scene. The mountains are about you like a trap; you cannot +foot it up a hillside and behold the sea as a great plain, but live in +holes and corners, and can change only one for another. + + + + +II + +HEALTH AND MOUNTAINS + + +There has come a change in medical opinion, and a change has followed in +the lives of sick folk. A year or two ago and the wounded soldiery of +mankind were all shut up together in some basking angle of the Riviera, +walking a dusty promenade or sitting in dusty olive-yards within earshot +of the interminable and unchanging surf--idle among spiritless idlers +not perhaps dying, yet hardly living either, and aspiring, sometimes +fiercely, after livelier weather and some vivifying change. These were +certainly beautiful places to live in, and the climate was wooing in its +softness. Yet there was a later shiver in the sunshine; you were not +certain whether you were being wooed; and these mild shores would +sometimes seem to you to be the shores of death. There was a lack of a +manly element; the air was not reactive; you might write bits of poetry +and practise resignation, but you did not feel that here was a good +spot to repair your tissue or regain your nerve. And it appears, after +all, that there was something just in these appreciations. The invalid +is now asked to lodge on wintry Alps; a ruder air shall medicine him; +the demon of cold is no longer to be fled from, but bearded in his den. +For even Winter has his "dear domestic cave," and in those places where +he may be said to dwell for ever tempers his austerities. + +Any one who has travelled westward by the great transcontinental +railroad of America must remember the joy with which he perceived, after +the tedious prairies of Nebraska and across the vast and dismal +moorlands of Wyoming, a few snowy mountain summits along the southern +sky. It is among these mountains in the new State of Colorado that the +sick man may find, not merely an alleviation of his ailments, but the +possibility of an active life and an honest livelihood. There, no longer +as a lounger in a plaid, but as a working farmer, sweating at his work, +he may prolong and begin anew his life. Instead of the bath-chair, the +spade; instead of the regulated walk, rough journeys in the forest, and +the pure, rare air of the open mountains for the miasma of the +sick-room--these are the changes offered him, with what promise of +pleasure and of self-respect, with what a revolution in all his hopes +and terrors, none but an invalid can know. Resignation, the cowardice +that apes a kind of courage and that lives in the very air of health +resorts, is cast aside at a breath of such a prospect. The man can open +the door; he can be up and doing; he can be a kind of a man after all +and not merely an invalid. + +But it is a far cry to the Rocky Mountains. We cannot all of us go +farming in Colorado; and there is yet a middle term, which combines the +medical benefits of the new system with the moral drawbacks of the old. +Again the invalid has to lie aside from life and its wholesome duties; +again he has to be an idler among idlers; but this time at a great +altitude, far among the mountains, with the snow piled before his door +and the frost flowers every morning on his window. The mere fact is +tonic to his nerves. His choice of a place of wintering has somehow to +his own eyes the air of an act of bold contract; and, since he has +wilfully sought low temperatures, he is not so apt to shudder at a touch +of chill. He came for that, he looked for it, and he throws it from him +with the thought. + +A long straight reach of valley, wall-like mountains upon either hand +that rise higher and higher and shoot up new summits the higher you +climb; a few noble peaks seen even from the valley; a village of hotels; +a world of black and white--black pine-woods, clinging to the sides of +the valley, and white snow flouring it, and papering it between the +pine-woods, and covering all the mountains with a dazzling curd; add a +few score invalids marching to and fro upon the snowy road, or skating +on the ice-rinks, possibly to music, or sitting under sunshades by the +door of the hotel--and you have the larger features of a mountain +sanatorium. A certain furious river runs curving down the valley; its +pace never varies, it has not a pool for as far as you can follow it; +and its unchanging, senseless hurry is strangely tedious to witness. It +is a river that a man could grow to hate. Day after day breaks with the +rarest gold upon the mountain spires, and creeps, growing and glowing, +down into the valley. From end to end the snow reverberates the +sunshine; from end to end the air tingles with the light, clear and dry +like crystal. Only along the course of the river, but high above it, +there hangs far into the noon one waving scarf of vapour. It were hard +to fancy a more engaging feature in a landscape; perhaps it is harder to +believe that delicate, long-lasting phantom of the atmosphere, a +creature of the incontinent stream whose course it follows. By noon the +sky is arrayed in an unrivalled pomp of colour--mild and pale and +melting in the north, but towards the zenith, dark with an intensity of +purple blue. What with this darkness of heaven and the intolerable +lustre of the snow, space is reduced again to chaos. An English painter, +coming to France late in life, declared with natural anger that "the +values were all wrong." Had he got among the Alps on a bright day he +might have lost his reason. And even to any one who has looked at +landscape with any care, and in any way through the spectacles of +representative art, the scene has a character of insanity. The distant +shining mountain peak is here beside your eye; the neighbouring +dull-coloured house in comparison is miles away; the summit, which is +all of splendid snow, is close at hand; the nigh slopes, which are black +with pine-trees, bear it no relation, and might be in another sphere. +Here there are none of those delicate gradations, those intimate, misty +joinings-on and spreadings-out into the distance, nothing of that art of +air and light by which the face of nature explains and veils itself in +climes which we may be allowed to think more lovely. A glaring piece of +crudity, where everything that is not white is a solecism and defies the +judgment of the eyesight; a scene of blinding definition; a parade of +daylight, almost scenically vulgar, more than scenically trying, and yet +hearty and healthy, making the nerves to tighten and the mouth to smile: +such is the winter daytime in the Alps. With the approach of evening all +is changed. A mountain will suddenly intercept the sun; a shadow fall +upon the valley; in ten minutes the thermometer will drop as many +degrees; the peaks that are no longer shone upon dwindle into ghosts; +and meanwhile, overhead, if the weather be rightly characteristic of the +place, the sky fades towards night through a surprising key of colours. +The latest gold leaps from the last mountain. Soon, perhaps, the moon +shall rise, and in her gentler light the valley shall be mellowed and +misted, and here and there a wisp of silver cloud upon a hilltop, and +here and there a warmly glowing window in a house, between fire and +starlight, kind and homely in the fields of snow. + +But the valley is not seated so high among the clouds to be eternally +exempt from changes. The clouds gather, black as ink; the wind bursts +rudely in; day after day the mists drive overhead, the snowflakes +flutter down in blinding disarray; daily the mail comes in later from +the top of the pass; people peer through their windows and foresee no +end but an entire seclusion from Europe, and death by gradual dry-rot, +each in his indifferent inn; and when at last the storm goes and the sun +comes again, behold a world of unpolluted snow, glossy like fur, bright +like daylight, a joy to wallowing dogs and cheerful to the souls of men. +Or perhaps from across storied and malarious Italy, a wind cunningly +winds about the mountains and breaks, warm and unclean, upon our +mountain valley. Every nerve is set ajar; the conscience recognises, at +a gust, a load of sins and negligences hitherto unknown; and the whole +invalid world huddles into its private chambers, and silently recognises +the empire of the Foehn. + + + + +III + +ALPINE DIVERSIONS + + +There will be no lack of diversion in an Alpine sanatorium. The place is +half English, to be sure, the local sheet appearing in double column, +text and translation; but it still remains half German; and hence we +have a band which is able to play, and a company of actors able, as you +will be told, to act. This last you will take on trust, for the players, +unlike the local sheet, confine themselves to German; and though at the +beginning of winter they come with their wig-boxes to each hotel in +turn, long before Christmas they will have given up the English for a +bad job. There will follow, perhaps, a skirmish between the two races; +the German element seeking, in the interest of their actors, to raise a +mysterious item, the _Kur-taxe_, which figures heavily enough already +in the weekly bills, the English element stoutly resisting. Meantime in +the English hotels home-played farces, _tableaux-vivants_, and even +balls enliven the evenings; a charity bazaar sheds genial consternation; +Christmas and New Year are solemnised with Pantagruelian dinners, and +from time to time the young folks carol and revolve untunefully enough +through the figures of a singing quadrille. A magazine club supplies you +with everything, from the _Quarterly_ to the _Sunday at Home_. Grand +tournaments are organised at chess, draughts, billiards, and whist. Once +and again wandering artists drop into our mountain valley, coming you +know not whence, going you cannot imagine whither, and belonging to +every degree in the hierarchy of musical art, from the recognised +performer who announces a concert for the evening, to the comic German +family or solitary long-haired German baritone, who surprises the guests +at dinner-time with songs and a collection. They are all of them good to +see; they, at least, are moving; they bring with them the sentiment of +the open road; yesterday, perhaps, they were in Tyrol, and next week +they will be far in Lombardy, while all we sick folk still simmer in our +mountain prison. Some of them, too, are welcome as the flowers in May +for their own sake; some of them may have a human voice; some may have +that magic which transforms a wooden box into a song-bird, and what we +jeeringly call a fiddle into what we mention with respect as a violin. +From that grinding lilt, with which the blind man, seeking pence, +accompanies the beat of paddle wheels across the ferry, there is surely +a difference rather of kind than of degree to that unearthly voice of +singing that bewails and praises the destiny of man at the touch of the +true virtuoso. Even that you may perhaps enjoy; and if you do so you +will own it impossible to enjoy it more keenly than here, _im Schnee der +Alpen_. A hyacinth in a pot, a handful of primroses packed in moss, or a +piece of music by some one who knows the way to the heart of a violin, +are things that, in this invariable sameness of the snows and frosty +air, surprise you like an adventure. It is droll, moreover, to compare +the respect with which the invalids attend a concert, and the ready +contempt with which they greet the dinner-time performers. Singing which +they would hear with real enthusiasm--possibly with tears--from a corner +of a drawing-room, is listened to with laughter when it is offered by an +unknown professional and no money has been taken at the door. + +Of skating little need be said; in so snowy a climate the rinks must be +intelligently managed; their mismanagement will lead to many days of +vexation and some petty quarrelling, but when all goes well, it is +certainly curious, and perhaps rather unsafe, for the invalid to skate +under a burning sun, and walk back to his hotel in a sweat, through long +tracts of glare and passages of freezing shadow. But the peculiar +outdoor sport of this district is tobogganing. A Scotsman may remember +the low flat board, with the front wheels on a pivot, which was called a +_hurlie_; he may remember this contrivance, laden with boys, as, +laboriously started, it ran rattling down the brae, and was, now +successfully, now unsuccessfully, steered round the corner at the foot; +he may remember scented summer evenings passed in this diversion, and +many a grazed skin, bloody cockscomb, and neglected lesson. The toboggan +is to the hurlie what the sled is to the carriage; it is a hurlie upon +runners; and if for a grating road you substitute a long declivity of +beaten snow, you can imagine the giddy career of the tobogganist. The +correct position is to sit; but the fantastic will sometimes sit +hindforemost, or dare the descent upon their belly or their back. A few +steer with a pair of pointed sticks, but it is more classical to use the +feet. If the weight be heavy and the track smooth, the toboggan takes +the bit between its teeth; and to steer a couple of full-sized friends +in safety requires not only judgment but desperate exertion. On a very +steep track, with a keen evening frost, you may have moments almost too +appalling to be called enjoyment; the head goes, the world vanishes; +your blind steed bounds below your weight; you reach the foot, with all +the breath knocked out of your body, jarred and bewildered as though you +had just been subjected to a railway accident. Another element of joyful +horror is added by the formation of a train; one toboggan being tied to +another, perhaps to the number of half a dozen, only the first rider +being allowed to steer, and all the rest pledged to put up their feet +and follow their leader, with heart in mouth, down the mad descent. +This, particularly if the track begins with a headlong plunge, is one of +the most exhilarating follies in the world, and the tobogganing invalid +is early reconciled to somersaults. + +There is all manner of variety in the nature of the tracks, some miles +in length, others but a few yards, and yet like some short rivers, +furious in their brevity. All degrees of skill and courage and taste may +be suited in your neighbourhood. But perhaps the true way to toboggan is +alone and at night. First comes the tedious climb, dragging your +instrument behind you. Next a long breathing-space, alone with snow and +pine-woods, cold, silent, and solemn to the heart. Then you push off; +the toboggan fetches away; she begins to feel the hill, to glide, to +swim, to gallop. In a breath you are out from under the pine-trees, and +a whole heavenful of stars reels and flashes overhead. Then comes a +vicious effort; for by this time your wooden steed is speeding like the +wind, and you are spinning round a corner, and the whole glittering +valley and all the lights in all the great hotels lie for a moment at +your feet; and the next you are racing once more in the shadow of the +night with close-shut teeth and beating heart. Yet a little while and +you will be landed on the high-road by the door of your own hotel. This, +in an atmosphere tingling with forty degrees of frost, in a night made +luminous with stars and snow, and girt with strange white mountains, +teaches the pulse an unaccustomed tune and adds a new excitement to the +life of man upon his planet. + + + + +IV + +THE STIMULATION OF THE ALPS + + +To any one who should come from a southern sanatorium to the Alps, the +row of sun-burned faces round the table would present the first +surprise. He would begin by looking for the invalids, and he would lose +his pains, for not one out of five of even the bad cases bears the mark +of sickness on his face. The plump sunshine from above and its strong +reverberation from below colour the skin like an Indian climate; the +treatment, which consists mainly of the open air, exposes even the +sickliest to tan, and a tableful of invalids comes, in a month or two, +to resemble a tableful of hunters. But although he may be thus surprised +at the first glance, his astonishment will grow greater, as he +experiences the effects of the climate on himself. In many ways it is a +trying business to reside upon the Alps: the stomach is exercised, the +appetite often languishes; the liver may at times rebel; and because you +have come so far from metropolitan advantages, it does not follow that +you shall recover. But one thing is undeniable--that in the rare air, +clear, cold, and blinding light of Alpine winters, a man takes a certain +troubled delight in his existence which can nowhere else be paralleled. +He is perhaps no happier, but he is stingingly alive. It does not, +perhaps, come out of him in work or exercise, yet he feels an enthusiasm +of the blood unknown in more temperate climates. It may not be health, +but it is fun. + +There is nothing more difficult to communicate on paper than this +baseless ardour, this stimulation of the brain, this sterile joyousness +of spirits. You wake every morning, see the gold upon the snow-peaks, +become filled with courage, and bless God for your prolonged existence. +The valleys are but a stride to you; you cast your shoe over the +hilltops; your ears and your heart sing; in the words of an unverified +quotation from the Scots psalms, you feel yourself fit "on the wings of +all the winds" to "come flying all abroad." Europe and your mind are too +narrow for that flood of energy. Yet it is notable that you are hard to +root out of your bed; that you start forth, singing, indeed, on your +walk, yet are unusually ready to turn home again; that the best of you +is volatile; and that although the restlessness remains till night, the +strength is early at an end. With all these heady jollities, you are +half conscious of an underlying languor in the body; you prove not to be +so well as you had fancied; you weary before you have well begun; and +though you mount at morning with the lark, that is not precisely a +song-bird's heart that you bring back with you when you return with +aching limbs and peevish temper to your inn. + +It is hard to say wherein it lies, but this joy of Alpine winters is its +own reward. Baseless, in a sense, it is more than worth more permanent +improvements. The dream of health is perfect while it lasts; and if, in +trying to realise it, you speedily wear out the dear hallucination, +still every day, and many times a day, you are conscious of a strength +you scarce possess, and a delight in living as merry as it proves to be +transient. + +The brightness--heaven and earth conspiring to be bright--the levity and +quiet of the air; the odd stirring silence--more stirring than a tumult; +the snow, the frost, the enchanted landscape: all have their part in the +effect and on the memory, "_tous vous tapent sur la tete_"; and yet when +you have enumerated all, you have gone no nearer to explain or even to +qualify the delicate exhilaration that you feel--delicate, you may say, +and yet excessive, greater than can be said in prose, almost greater +than an invalid can bear. There is a certain wine of France known in +England in some gaseous disguise, but when drunk in the land of its +nativity still as a pool, clean as river water, and as heady as verse. +It is more than probable that in its noble natural condition this was +the very wine of Anjou so beloved by Athos in the "Musketeers." Now, if +the reader has ever washed down a liberal second breakfast with the wine +in question, and gone forth, on the back of these dilutions, into a +sultry, sparkling noontide, he will have felt an influence almost as +genial, although strangely grosser, than this fairy titillation of the +nerves among the snow and sunshine of the Alps. That also is a mode, we +need not say of intoxication, but of insobriety. Thus also a man walks +in a strong sunshine of the mind, and follows smiling, insubstantial +meditations. And whether he be really so clever or so strong as he +supposes, in either case he will enjoy his chimera while it lasts. + +The influence of this giddy air displays itself in many secondary ways. +A certain sort of laboured pleasantry has already been recognised, and +may perhaps have been remarked in these papers, as a sort peculiar to +that climate. People utter their judgments with a cannonade of +syllables; a big word is as good as a meal to them; and the turn of a +phrase goes further than humour or wisdom. By the professional writer +many sad vicissitudes have to be undergone. At first he cannot write at +all. The heart, it appears, is unequal to the pressure of business, and +the brain, left without nourishment, goes into a mild decline. Next, +some power of work returns to him, accompanied by jumping headaches. +Last, the spring is opened, and there pours at once from his pen a world +of blatant, hustling polysyllables, and talk so high as, in the old +joke, to be positively offensive in hot weather. He writes it in good +faith and with a sense of inspiration; it is only when he comes to read +what he has written that surprise and disquiet seize upon his mind. What +is he to do, poor man? All his little fishes talk like whales. This +yeasty inflation, this stiff and strutting architecture of the sentence +has come upon him while he slept; and it is not he, it is the Alps, who +are to blame. He is not, perhaps, alone, which somewhat comforts him. +Nor is the ill without a remedy. Some day, when the spring returns, he +shall go down a little lower in this world, and remember quieter +inflections and more modest language. But here, in the meantime, there +seems to swim up some outline of a new cerebral hygiene and a good time +coming, when experienced advisers shall send a man to the proper +measured level for the ode, the biography, or the religious tract; and a +nook may be found between the sea and Chimborazo, where Mr. Swinburne +shall be able to write more continently, and Mr. Browning somewhat +slower. + +Is it a return of youth, or is it a congestion of the brain? It is a +sort of congestion, perhaps, that leads the invalid, when all goes well, +to face the new day with such a bubbling cheerfulness. It is certainly +congestion that makes night hideous with visions, all the chambers of a +many-storied caravanserai, haunted with vociferous nightmares, and many +wakeful people come down late for breakfast in the morning. Upon that +theory the cynic may explain the whole affair--exhilaration, nightmares, +pomp of tongue and all. But, on the other hand, the peculiar blessedness +of boyhood may itself be but a symptom of the same complaint, for the +two effects are strangely similar; and the frame of mind of the invalid +upon the Alps is a sort of intermittent youth, with periods of +lassitude. The fountain of Juventus does not play steadily in these +parts; but there it plays, and possibly nowhere else. + + + + +STEVENSON AT PLAY + + + + +STEVENSON AT PLAY + +INTRODUCTION BY MR. LLOYD OSBOURNE + + +In an old note-book, soiled and dog-eared by much travelling, yellow and +musty with the long years it had lain hid in a Samoan chest, the present +writer came across the mimic war correspondence here presented to the +public. The stirring story of these tin-soldier campaigns occupies the +greater share of the book, though interspersed with many pages of +scattered verse, not a little Gaelic idiom and verb, a half-made will +and the chaptering of a novel. This game of tin soldiers, an intricate +"Kriegspiel," involving rules innumerable, prolonged arithmetical +calculations, constant measuring with foot-rules, and the throwing of +dice, sprang from the humblest beginnings--a row of soldiers on either +side and a deadly marble. From such a start it grew in size and +complexity until it became mimic war indeed, modelled closely upon real +conditions and actual warfare, requiring, on Stevenson's part, the use +of text-books and long conversations with military invalids; on mine, +all the pocket-money derived from my publishing ventures as well as a +considerable part of my printing stock in trade. + +The abiding spirit of the child in Stevenson was seldom shown in more +lively fashion than during those days of exile at Davos, where he +brought a boy's eagerness, a man's intellect, a novelist's imagination, +into the varied business of my holiday hours; the printing press, the +toy theatre, the tin soldiers, all engaged his attention. Of these, +however, the tin soldiers most took his fancy; and the war game was +constantly improved and elaborated, until from a few hours a "war" took +weeks to play, and the critical operations in the attic monopolised half +our thoughts. This attic was a most chilly and dismal spot, reached by a +crazy ladder, and unlit save for a single frosted window; so low at the +eaves and so dark that we could seldom stand upright, nor see without a +candle. Upon the attic floor a map was roughly drawn in chalks of +different colours, with mountains, rivers, towns, bridges, and roads of +two classes. Here we would play by the hour, with tingling fingers and +stiffening knees, and an intentness, zest, and excitement that I shall +never forget. The mimic battalions marched and counter-marched, changed +by measured evolutions from column formation into line, with cavalry +screens in front and massed supports behind, in the most approved +military fashion of to-day. It was war in miniature, even to the making +and destruction of bridges, the entrenching of camps, good and bad +weather, with corresponding influence on the roads, siege and horse +artillery proportionately slow, as compared to the speed of unimpeded +foot and proportionately expensive in the upkeep; and an exacting +commissariat added to the last touch of verisimilitude. Four men formed +the regiment or unit, and our shots were in proportion to our units and +amount of ammunition. The troops carried carts of printers' +"ems"--twenty "ems" to each cart--and for every shot taken an "em" had +to be paid into the base, from which fresh supplies could be slowly +drawn in empty carts returned for the purpose. As a large army often +contained thirty regiments, consuming a cart and a half of ammunition in +every engagement (not to speak of the heavy additional expense of +artillery), it will be seen what an important part the commissariat +played in the game, and how vital to success became the line of +communication to the rear. A single cavalry brigade, if bold and lucky +enough, could break the line at the weakest link, and by cutting off the +sustenance of a vast army could force it to fall back in the full tide +of success. A well-devised flank attack, the plucky destruction of a +bridge, or the stubborn defence of a town, might each become a factor in +changing the face of the war and materially alter the course of +campaigns. + +It must not be supposed that the enemy ever knew your precise strength, +or that it could divine your intentions by the simple expedient of +looking at your side of the attic and counting your regiments. Numerous +numbered cards dotted the country wherever the eye might fall; one, +perhaps, representing a whole army with supports, another a solitary +horseman dragging some ammunition, another nothing but a dummy that +might paralyse the efforts of a corps, and overawe it into a ruinous +inactivity. To uncover these cards and unmask the forces for which they +stood was the duty of the cavalry vedettes, whose movements were +governed by an elaborate and most vexatious set of rules. It was +necessary to feel your way amongst these alarming pasteboards to obtain +an inkling of your opponent's plans, and the first dozen moves were +often spent in little less. But even if you were befriended by the dice, +and your cavalry broke the enemy's screen and uncovered his front, you +would learn nothing more than could reasonably be gleaned with a +field-glass. The only result of a daring and costly activity might be +such meagre news as "the road is blocked with artillery and infantry in +column" or "you can perceive light horse-artillery strongly supported." +It was only when the enemy began to take his shots that you would begin +to learn the number of his regiments, and even then he often fired less +than his entitled share in order to maintain the mystery of his +strength. + +If the game possessed a weakness, it was the unshaken courage of our +troops, who faced the most terrific odds and endured defeat upon defeat +with an intrepidity rarely seen on the actual field. An attempt was made +to correct this with the dice, but the innovation was so heart-breaking +to the loser, and so perpetual a menace to the best-laid plans, that it +had perforce to be given up. After two or three dice-box panics our +heroes were permitted to resume their normal and unprecedented devotion +to their cause, and their generals breathed afresh. There was another +defect in our "Kriegspiel": I was so much the better shot that my +marksmanship often frustrated the most admirable strategy and the most +elaborate of military schemes. It was in vain that we--or rather my +opponent--wrestled with the difficulty and tried to find a substitute +for the deadly and discriminating pop-gun. It was all of no use. +Whatever the missile--sleeve-fink, marble, or button--I was invariably +the better shot, and that skill stood me in good stead on many an +ensanguined plain, and helped to counteract the inequality between a boy +of twelve and a man of mature years. A wise discretion ruled with regard +to the _personnel_ of the fighting line. Stevenson possessed a horde of +particularly chubby cavalrymen, who, when marshalled in close formation +at the head of the infantry, could bear unscathed the most accurate and +overwhelming fire, and thus shelter their weaker brethren in the rear. +This was offset by his "Old Guard," whose unfortunate peculiarity of +carrying their weapons at the charge often involved whole regiments in +a common ruin. On my side there was a multitude of flimsy Swiss, for +whom I trembled whenever they were called to action. These Swiss were so +weak upon their legs that the merest breath would mow them down in +columns, and so deficient in stamina that they would often fall before +they were hurt. Their ranks were burdened, too, with a number of +egregious puppets with musical instruments, who never fell without +entangling a few of their comrades. + +Another improvement that was tried and soon again given up was an effort +to match the sickness of actual war. Certain zones were set apart as +unwholesome, especially those near great rivers and lakes, and troops +unfortunate enough to find themselves in these miasmic plains had to +undergo the ordeal of the dice-box. Swiss or Guards, musicians, Arabs, +chubby cavalrymen or thin, all had to pay Death's toll in a new and +frightful form. But we rather overdid the miasma, so it was abolished by +mutual consent. + +The war which forms the subject of the present paper was unusual in no +respect save that its operations were chronicled from day to day in a +public press of Stevenson's imagination, and reported by daring +correspondents on the field. Nothing is more eloquent of the man than +the particularity and care with which this mimic war correspondence was +compiled; the author of the "Child's Garden" had never outgrown his love +for childish things, and it is typical of him that, though he mocks us +at every turn and loses no occasion to deride the puppets in the play, +he is everywhere faithful to the least detail of fact. It must not be +supposed that I was privileged to hear these records daily read and thus +draw my plans against the morrow; on the contrary, they were sometimes +held back until the military news was staled by time or were guardedly +communicated with blanks for names and the dead unnumbered. Potty, +Pipes, and Piffle were very real to me, and lived like actual people in +that dim garret. I can still see them through the mist of years; the +formidable General Stevenson, corpulent with solder, a detachable midget +who could be mounted upon a fresh steed whenever his last had been +trodden under foot, whose frame gave evidence of countless mendings; the +emaciated Delafield, with the folded arms, originally a simple +artilleryman, but destined to reach the highest honours; Napoleon, with +the flaming clothes, whom fate had bound to a very fragile horse; +Green, the simple patriot, who took his name from his coat; and the +redoubtable Lafayette in blue, alas! with no Washington to help him. + +The names of that attic country fall pleasantly upon the ear and +brighten the dark and bloody page of war: Scarlet, Glendarule, Sandusky, +Mar, Tahema, and Savannah; how sweetly they run! I must except my own +(and solitary) contribution to the map, Samuel City, which sounds out of +key with these mouthfuls of melody, though none the less an important +point. Yallobally I shall always recall with bitterness, for it was +there I first felt the thorn of a vindictive press. The reader will see +what little cause I had to love the _Yallobally Record_, a scurrilous +sheet that often made my heart ache, for all I pretended to laugh and +see the humour of its attacks. It was indeed a relief when I learned I +might exert my authority and suppress its publication--and even hang the +editor--which I did, I fear, with unseemly haste. It will be noticed +that the story of the war begins on the tenth day, the earlier moves +being without interest save to the combatants themselves, passed as they +were in uncovering the cards on either side; and in learning, with more +or less success, the forces for which they stood. This was an essential +but scarcely stirring branch of tin-soldiering, and has been accordingly +unreported as too tedious even for the columns of the _Yallobally +Record_. When the veil had been somewhat lifted and the shadowy armies +discerned with some precision, the historian takes his pen and awaits +the clash of arms. + + LLOYD OSBOURNE + + + + +WAR CORRESPONDENCE FROM STEVENSON'S NOTE-BOOK + + +GLENDARULE TIMES.--10th. _Scarlet_.--"The advance of the enemy continues +along three lines, a light column moving from Tahema on Grierson, and +the main body concentrating on Garrard from the Savannah and Yallobally +roads. Garrard and Grierson have both been evacuated. A small force, +without artillery, is alone in the neighbourhood of Cinnabar, and some +of that has fallen back on Glentower by the pass. The brave artillery +remains in front of Scarlet, and was reinforced this morning with some +ammunition. All day infantry has been moving eastward on Sandusky. The +greatest depression prevails." + +_Editorial Comment_.--General Stevenson may, or may not, be a capable +commander. It would be unjust to pronounce in the meantime. Still, the +attempt to seize Mar was disastrously miscalculated, and, as we all +know, the column has fallen back on Sandusky with cruel loss. Nor is it +possible to deny that the attempt to hold Grierson, and keep an army in +the west, was idle. Our correspondent at Scarlet mentions the passage of +troops moving eastward through that place, and the retreat of another +column on Glentower. These are the last wrecks of that Army of the West, +from which great things were once expected. With the exception of the +Yolo column, which is without guns, all our forces are now concentrated +in the province of Sandusky; Blue Mountain Province is particularly +deserted, and nothing has been done to check, even for an hour, the +advance of our numerous and well-appointed foes. + +11th. _Scarlet_.--The horse-artillery returned through Scarlet on the +Glendarule road; hideous confusion reigns; were the enemy to fall upon +us now, the best opinions regard our position as hopeless. Authentic +news has been received of the desertion of Cinnabar. + +_Sandusky_.--The enemy has again appeared, threatening Mar, and the +column moving to the relief of the Yolo column has stopped in its +advance in consequence. General Stevenson moved out a column with +artillery, and crushed a flanking party of the enemy's great centre army +on Scarlet, Garrard, and Savannah road; no loss was sustained on our +side; the enemy's loss is officially calculated at four hundred killed +or wounded. + +_Scarlet_.--At last the moment has arrived. The enemy, with a strong +column of horse and horse-artillery, occupied Grierson this morning. +This, with his Army of the Centre moving steadily forward upon Garrard, +places all the troops in and around this place in imminent danger of +being entirely cut off, or being forced to retreat before overwhelming +forces across the Blue Mountains, a course, according to all military +men, involving the total destruction of General Potty's force. Piffle's +whole corps, with the heavy artillery, continued its descent on the left +bank of the Sandusky river, while Potty, dashing through Scarlet at the +hand-gallop, and among the cheers of the populace, moved off along the +Grierson road, collecting infantry as he moved, and riding himself at +the head of the horse-artillery. + +NOTE.--General Potty was an airy, amiable, affected creature, the very +soul of bravery and levity. He had risen rapidly by virtue of his +pleasing manners; but his application was small, and he lacked +self-reliance at the Council Board. Piffle called him a parrot; he +returned the compliment by calling Piffle "the hundred-weight of +bricks." They were scarce on speaking terms. + +Half an hour after, he had driven the fore-guard of the enemy out of +Grierson without the loss of a trooper on our side; the enemy's loss is +reckoned at 1,600 men. I telegraph at this juncture before returning to +the field. So far the work is done; Potty has behaved nobly. But he +remains isolated by the retreat of Piffle, with a large force in front, +and another large force advancing on his unprotected flank. + +_Editorial Comment_.--We have been successful in two skirmishes, but the +situation is felt to be critical, and is by some supposed to be +desperate. Stevenson's skirmish on the 11th did not check the advance of +the Army of the Centre; it is impossible to predict the result of +Potty's success before Grierson. The Yolo column appears to meet with no +resistance; but it is terribly committed, and is, it must be remembered, +quite helpless for offensive purposes, without the co-operation of +Stevenson from Sandusky. How that can be managed, while the enemy hold +the pass behind Mar, is more than we can see. Some shrewd, but perhaps +too hopeful, critics perceive a deep policy in the inactivity of our +troops about Sandusky, and believe that Stevenson is luring on the +cautious Osbourne to his ruin. We will hope so; but this does not +explain Piffle's senseless counter-marchings around Scarlet, nor the +horribly outflanked and unsupported position of Potty on the line of the +Cinnabar river. If General Osbourne were a child, we might hope for the +best; there is no doubt that he has been careless about Mar and Yolo, +and that he was yesterday only saved from a serious disaster by a fluke, +and the imperfection of our scout system; but the situation to the west +and centre wears a different complexion; there his steady, well-combined +advance, carrying all before him, contrasts most favourably with the +timid and divided counsels of our Stevensons, Piffles, and Pottys. + +[Illustration: _From the original sketch in Stevenson's Note-book_] + +YALLOBALLY RECORD.--"That incompetent shuffler, General Osbourne, has +again put his foot into it. Blundering into Grierson with a lot of +unsupported horse, he has got exactly what he deserved. The whole +command was crushed by that wide-awake fellow, Potty, and a lot of guns +and ammunition lie ignominiously deserted on our own side of the river. +All this through mere chuckle-headed incompetence and the neglect of the +most elementary precautions, within a day's march of two magnificent +armies, either of which, under any sane, soldierly man, is capable of +marching right through to Glendarule. + +"This is the last scandal. Yesterday, it was a whole regiment cut off +between the Garrard road and the Sandusky river, and cut off without +firing or being able to fire a single shot in self-defence. It is an +open secret that the men behind Mar are starving, and that the whole +east and the city of Savannah were within a day of being deserted. How +long is this disorganisation to go on? How long is that bloated +bondholder to go prancing round on horseback, wall-eyed and +muddle-headed, while his men are starved and butchered, and the forces +of this great country are at the mercy of clever rogues like Potty, or +respectable mediocrities like Stevenson?" + +General Piffle's force was, I learn, attacked this morning from across +the river by the whole weight of the enemy's centre. Supports were being +hurried forward. Ammunition was scarce. A feeling of anxiety, not +unmixed with hope, is the rule. + +_Noon_.--I am now back in Scarlet, as being more central to both actions +now raging, one along the line of the Sandusky between General Piffle +and the Army of the Centre, the other toward Grierson between Potty and +the corps of Generals Green and Lafayette. News has come from both +quarters. Piffle, who was at one time thought to be overwhelmed, has +held his ground on the Sandusky highroad; and by last advices his whole +supports had come into line, and he hoped, by a last effort, to carry +the day. His losses have been severe; they are estimated at 2,600 killed +and wounded; but it appears from the reports of captives that the +enemy's losses must amount to 3,000 at least. The fate of the engagement +still trembles in the balance. From the battle at Grierson, the news is +both encouraging and melancholy. The enemy has once more been driven +across the rivers, and even some distance behind the town of Grierson +itself on the Tahema road; he has certainly lost 2,400 men, principally +horse; but he has succeeded in carrying off his guns and ammunition in +the face of our attack, and his immense reserves are close at hand. Both +Green and Lafayette are sent wounded to the rear; it is unknown who now +commands their column. These successes, necessary as they were felt to +be, were somewhat dearly purchased. Two thousand six hundred men are +_hors de combat_; and the chivalrous Potty is himself seriously hurt. +This has cast a shade of anxiety over our triumph; and though the light +column is still pushing its advantage under Lieutenant-General Pipes, it +is felt that nothing but a complete success of the main body under +Piffle can secure us from the danger of complete investment. + +14th. _Scarlet_.--The engagement ended last night by the complete +evacuation of Grierson. Pipes cleared the whole country about that town +in splendid style, and the army encamped on the field of battle; sadly +reduced indeed, but victorious for the moment. The enemy, since their +first appearance at Grierson, have lost 4,400 men, and have been beaten +decisively back. There is now not a man on our side of the Sandusky; and +our loss of 2,600 is serious indeed, but, seeing how much has been +accomplished, not excessive. The enemy's horse was cut to pieces. + +Piffle slept on the ground that he had held all day. In the afternoon he +had once more driven back the head of the enemy's columns, inflicting a +further loss of 3,200 killed and wounded at the lowest computation; but +the enemy's camp-fires can still be plainly made out with a field-glass, +in the same position as the night before. This is scarcely to be called +success, although it is certainly not failure. + +_Sandusky_.--All quiet at Sandusky; the army has fallen back into the +city, and large reserves are still massed behind. + +_Editorial Comment_.--The battle of Grierson is a distinct success; the +enemy, with a heavy loss, have been beaten back to their own side. As to +the vital engagement on the Sandusky and the heavy fighting before Yolo, +it is plain that we must wait for further news of both. In neither case +has any decided advantage crowned our arms, and if we are to judge by +the expressions of the commander-in-chief to our Sandusky correspondent, +the course of the former still leaves room for the most serious +apprehensions. General Potty, we are glad to assure our readers, will be +once more in the saddle before many days. It is an odd coincidence that +all the principal commanders in the battle of Grierson were at one +period or another of the day carried to the rear; and that none of the +three is seriously hurt. Green and Lafayette were shot down, it appears, +within a few moments of each other. It was reported that they had been +having high words as to the reckless advance over the Sandusky, each +charging the blame upon the other; but it seems certain that the fault +was Lafayette's, who was in chief command, and was present in Grierson +itself at the time of the fatal manoeuvre. The result would have been +crushing, had not General Potty been left for some hours utterly without +ammunition; Commissary Scuttlebutt is loudly blamed. To-morrow's news is +everywhere awaited with an eagerness approaching to agony. + +15th. _Scarlet_.--Late last night, orders reached General Pipes to fall +back on this place, where his reserves were diverted to support Piffle, +hard-pressed on the Sandusky. This morning the manoeuvre was effected +in good order, the enemy following us through Grierson and capturing one +hundred prisoners. The battle was resumed on the Sandusky with the same +fury; and it is still raging as I write. The enemy's Army of the Centre +is commanded, as we learn from stragglers, by General Napoleon; they +boast of large supports arriving, both from Savannah and Tahema +directions. The slaughter is something appalling; the whole of Potty's +infantry corps has marched to support Piffle; and as we have now no more +men within a day's ride, it is feared the enemy may yet manage to carry +Garrard and command the line of the river. + +_Sandusky_.--This morning, General Stevenson marched out of town to the +southward on the Savannah and Sandusky road. It was fully expected that +he would have mounted the Sandusky river to support Piffle and engage +the enemy's Army of the Centre on the flank; and the present manoeuvre +is loudly criticised. Not only is the integrity of the line of the +Sandusky ventured, but Stevenson's own force is now engaged in a most +awkward country, with a difficult bridge in front. To add, if possible, +to our anxiety, it is reported that General Delafield, in yesterday's +engagement, lost 3,200 men, killed and wounded. He held his ground, +however, and by the last advices had killed 800 and taken 1,400 +prisoners, with which he had fallen back again on Yolo itself. This +retrogression, it seems, is in accordance with his original orders: he +was either to hold Yolo, or if possible advance on Savannah via Brierly. +This last he judged unwise, so that he was obliged to cling to Yolo +itself. This also is seriously criticised in the best-informed circles. +Osbourne himself is reported to be in Savannah. + +YALLOBALLY RECORD.--"We have never concealed our opinion that Osbourne +was a bummer and a scallywag; but the entire collapse of his campaign +beats the worst that we imagined possible. We have received, at the same +moment, news of Green and Lafayette's column being beaten ignominiously +back again across the Sandusky river and out of Grierson, a place on our +own side; and next of the appearance of a large body of troops at Yolo, +in the very heart of this great land, where they seem to have played the +very devil, taking prisoners by the hundred and marching with arrogant +footsteps on the sacred soil of the province of Savannah. General +Napoleon, the only commander who has not yet disgraced himself, still +fights an uphill battle in the centre, inflicting terrific losses and +upholding the honour of his country single-handed. The infamous Osbourne +is shaking in his spectacles at Savannah. He was roundly taken to task +by a public-spirited reporter, and babbled meaningless excuses; he did +not know, he said, that the force now falling in on us at Yolo was so +large. It was his business to know. What is he paid for? That force has +been ten days at least turning the east of the Mar Mountains, a week at +least on our own side of the frontier. Where were Osbourne's wits? Will +it be believed, the column at Lone Bluff is again short of ammunition? +This old man of the sea, whom all the world knows to be an ass and whom +we can prove to be a coward, is apparently a peculator also. If we were +to die to-morrow, the word Osbourne would be found engraven backside +foremost on our hearts." + +Note. _The Tergiversation of the Army of the West_.--The delay of the +Army of the West, and the timorous counsels of Green and Lafayette, were +the salvation of Potty, Pipes, and Piffle. This is the third time we +hear of this great army crossing the river. It never should have left +hold. Lafayette had an overwhelming force at his back; and with a little +firmness, a little obstinacy even, he might have swallowed up the thin +lines opposed to him. On this day, the 16th, when we hear of his leaving +Grierson for the third time, his headquarters should have been in +Scarlet, and his guns should have enfiladed the weak posts of Piffle. + +_Sandusky. Noon_.--Great gloom here. As everyone predicted, Stevenson +has already lost 600 men in the marshes at the mouth of the Sandusky, +men simply sacrificed. His wilful conduct in not mounting the river, +following on his melancholy defeat before Mar, and his long and fatal +hesitation as to the Armies of the West and Centre, fill up the measure +of his incapacity. His uncontrolled temper and undisguised incivility, +not only to the Press, but to fellow-soldiers of the stamp of Piffle, +have alienated from him even the sympathy that sometimes improperly +consoles demerit. + +_Editorial_.--We leave our correspondents to speak for themselves, +reserving our judgment with a heavy heart. Piffle has the sympathy of +the nation. + +_Scarlet_. 9 P.M.--The attack has ceased. Napoleon is moving off +southward. Our fellows smartly pursued and cut off 1,600 men; in +spreading along the other side of the Sandusky they fell on a flanking +column of the enemy's Army of the West and sent it to the right-about +with a loss of 800 left upon the field. This shows how perilously near +to a junction these two formidable armies were, and should increase our +joy at Napoleon's retreat. That movement is variously explained, but +many suppose it is due to some advance from Sandusky. + +_Sandusky_.8 P.M.--Stevenson this afternoon occupied the angle between +the Glendarule and the Sandusky; his guns command the Garrard and +Savannah highroad, the only line of retreat for General Napoleon's guns, +and he has already hopelessly defeated and scattered a strong body of +supports advancing from Savannah to the aid of that commander. The enemy +lost 1,600 men; it is thought that this success and Stevenson's present +position involve the complete destruction or the surrender of the +enemy's Army of the Centre. The enemy have retired from the passes +behind Mar; but it is thought they have moved too late to save Savannah. +Pleasant news from Colonel Delafield, who, with a loss of 600, has +destroyed thrice that number of the enemy before Yolo. + +17th. _Scarlet_.--The enemy turned last night, inflicting losses on the +combined forces of Generals Pipes and Piffle, amounting together to +1,600 men. But his retreat still continues, harassed by our cavalry and +guns. The rest of the troops out of Cinnabar have arrived, via +Glentower, at the foot of the Blue Mountains. Everyone is in high +spirits. Potty has resumed command of his division; I met him half an +hour ago at lunch, when he expressed himself delighted with the +campaign. + +_Sandusky_.--A great victory must be announced. Today Stevenson passed +the Sandusky, and occupied the right bank of the Glendarule and the +country in front of Savannah. General Napoleon, in full retreat upon +that place, found himself cut off, and, after a desperate struggle, in +which 2,600 fell, surrendered with 6,000 men. The wrecks of his army are +scattered far and wide, and his guns are lying deserted on the Garrard +road. At the very moment while Napoleon was surrendering his sword to +General Stevenson, the head of our colours cut off 1,400 men before +Savannah, which was under the fire of our guns, and destroyed a convoy +on the Mar and Savannah highroad. This completes the picture; the enemy +have now only one bridge over the Glendarule not swept by our artillery. +Delafield has had another partial success; with a loss of 1,000 he has +cut off 1,200 and made 400 prisoners, but a strong force ts reported on +the Yolo and Yallobally road, which, by placing him between two fires, +may soon render his hold on the Yolo untenable. + +Note.--General Napoleon. His real name was Clamborough. The son of a +well-known linen-draper in Yolo, he was educated at the military college +of Savannah. His chief fault was an overwhelming vanity, which betrayed +itself in his unfortunate assumption of a pseudonym, and in the gorgeous +Oriental costumes by which he rendered himself conspicuous and absurd. +He received early warning of Stevenson's advance from Sandusky, but +refused to be advised, and did not begin to retreat until his army was +already circumvented. A characteristic anecdote is told of the +surrender. "General," said Napoleon to his captor, "you have to-day +immortalised your name." "Sir," returned Stevenson, whose brutality of +manner was already proverbial, "if you had taken as much trouble to +direct your army as your tailor to make your clothes, our positions +might have been reversed." + +[Illustration: From the original sketch in Stevenson's Note-book] + +_Editorial Comment_.--Unlike many others, we have never lost confidence +in General Stevenson; indeed, as our readers may remember, we have +always upheld him as a capable, even a great commander. Some little +ruffle at Scarlet did occur, but it was, no doubt, chargeable to the +hasty Potty; and now, by one of the finest manoeuvres on record, the +head general of our victorious armies has justified our most hopeful +prophecies and aspirations. There is not, perhaps, an officer in the +army who would not have chosen the obvious and indecisive move up the +Sandusky, which even our correspondent, able as he is, referred to with +apparent approval. Had Stevenson done that, the brave enemy who chooses +to call himself Napoleon might have been defeated twelve hours earlier, +and there would have been less sacrifice of life in the divisions of +Potty and the ignorant Piffle. But the enemy's retreat would not have +been cut off; his general would not now have been a prisoner in our +camp, nor should our cannon, advanced boldly into the country of our +foes, thunder against the gates of Savannah and cut off the supplies +from the army behind Mar. A glance at the map will show the authority of +our position; not a loaf of bread, not an ounce of powder can reach +Savannah or the enemy's Army of the East, but it must run the gauntlet +of our guns. And this is the result produced by the turning movement at +Yolo, General Stevenson's long inactivity in Sandusky, and his advance +at last, the one right movement and in the one possible direction. + +YALLOBALLY RECORD.--"The humbug who had the folly and indecency to pick +up the name of Napoleon second-hand at a sale of old pledges, has been +thrashed and is a prisoner. Except the Army of the West, and the +division on the Mar road, which is commanded by an old woman, we have +nothing on foot but scattered, ragamuffin regiments. Savannah is under +fire; that will teach Osbourne to skulk in cities instead of going to +the front with the poor devils whom he butchers by his ignorance and +starves with his peculations. What we want to know is, when is Osbourne +to be shot?" + +Note.--The _Record_ editor, a man of the name of McGuffog, was +subsequently hanged by order of General Osbourne. Public opinion +endorsed this act of severity. My great-uncle, Mr. Phelim Settle, was +present and saw him with the nightcap on and a file of his journals +around his neck; when he was turned off, the applause, according to Mr. +Settle, was deafening. He was a man, as the extracts prove, not without +a kind of vulgar talent. + +YALLOBALLY EVENING HERALD.--"It would be idle to disguise the fact that +the retreat of our Army of the Centre, and the accidental capture of the +accomplished soldier whose modesty conceals itself under the pseudonym +of Napoleon, have created a slight though baseless feeling of alarm in +this city. Nearer the field the troops are quite steady, the inhabitants +enthusiastic, and the loyal and indefatigable Osbourne multiplies his +bodily presence. The events of yesterday were much exaggerated by some +papers, and the publication of one rowdy sheet, suspected of receiving +pay from the enemy, has been suspended by an order from headquarters. +Our Army of the West still advances triumphantly unresisted into the +heart of the enemy's country; the force at Yolo, which is a mere handful +and quite without artillery, will probably be rooted out to-morrow. +Addresses and congratulations pour in to General Osbourne; subscriptions +to the great testimonial Osbourne statue are received at the _Herald_ +office every day between the hours of 10 and 4." + +ABSTRACT OF SIX DAYS' FIGHTING, FROM THE 19TH TO THE 24TH, FROM THE +GLENDARULE TIMES SATURDAY SPECIAL.--"This week has been, on the whole, +unimportant; there are few changes in the aspect of the field of war, +and perhaps the most striking fact is the collapse of Colonel +Delafield's Yolo column. Fourteen hundred killed and eighteen hundred +prisoners is assuredly a serious consideration for our small army; yet +the good done by that expedition is not wiped away by the present +defeat; large reinforcements of troops and much ammunition have been +directed into the far east, and the city of Savannah and the enemy's +forces in the pass have thus been left without support. Delafield +himself has reached Mar, now in our hands, and the cavalry and stores of +the expedition, all safe, are close behind him. Yolo is a name that will +never be forgotten. Our forces are now thus disposed: Potty, with the +brave artillery, lies behind the south-east shoulder of the Blue +Mountains, on the Sandusky and Samuel City road; Piffle, with the Army +of the Centre, has fallen back into Sandusky itself; while Stevenson +still holds the same position across the Sandusky river, his advance to +which will constitute his chief claim to celebrity. Savannah was +bombarded from the 18th to the 20th, inclusive; 4,000 men fell in its +defence. Osbourne himself, directing operations, was seriously wounded +and sent to Yallobally; and on the evening of the 20th the city +surrendered, only 600 men being found within its walls. A heavy +contribution was raised: but the general himself, fearing to expose his +communications, remains in the same position and has not even occupied +the fallen city. + +"In the meantime the army from the pass has been slowly drawing down to +the support of Savannah, suffering cruelly at every step. Yesterday +(24th) Mar was occupied by a corps of our infantry, who fell on the rear +of the retreating enemy, inflicting heavy loss." + +NOTE.--Retreat of the Mar column. The army which so long and so usefully +held the passes behind Mar, over the neck of Long Bluff, did not begin +to retreat until the enemy had already occupied Mar and begun to engage +their outposts. Supplies had already been cut off by the advanced +position of Stevenson. The men were short of bread. The roads were +heavy; the horses starving. The rear of the column was continually and +disastrously engaged with the enemy pouring after. It is perhaps the +saddest chapter in the history of the war. My grandmother, Mrs. Hankey +(_nee_ Pillworthy), then a young girl on a mountain farm on the line of +the retreat, distinctly remembers giving a soda biscuit, which was +greedily received, to Colonel Diggory Jacks, then in command of our +division, and lending him an umbrella, which was never returned. This +incident, trivial as it may be thought, emphatically depicts the +destitution of our brave soldiers. + +In the meantime, in the west, the enemy are slowly passing the rivers +and advancing with their main body on Scarlet, and with a single corps +on Glentower. Cinnabar was occupied on the 21st in the morning, and a +heavy contribution raised. The situation may thus be stated: In the +centre we are the sole arbiters, commanding the roads and holding a +position which can only be described as authoritative. In the east, +Delafield's corps has been destroyed; but the enemy's army of the pass, +on the other hand, is in a critical position and may, in the course of a +few days or so, be forced to lay down its arms. In the west, nothing as +yet is decided, and the movement through the Glentower Pass somewhat +hampers General Potty's position. + +The comparative losses during these days are very encouraging, and +compare pleasingly with the cost of the early part of the campaign. The +enemy have lost 12,800 men, killed, wounded, and prisoners, as against +4,800 on our side. + +YALLOBALLY HERALD.--Interview from General Osbourne with a special +reporter.--"I met the wounded hero some miles out of Yallobally, still +working, even as he walked, and surrounded by messengers from every +quarter. After the usual salutations, he inquired what paper I +represented, and received the name of the _Herald_ with satisfaction. +'It is a decent paper,' he said. 'It does not seek to obstruct a general +in the exercise of his discretion.' He spoke hopefully of the west and +east, and explained that the collapse of our centre was not so serious +as might have been imagined. 'It is unfortunate,' he said, 'but if Green +succeeds in his double advance on Glendarule, and if our army can +continue to keep up even the show of resistance in the province of +Savannah, Stevenson dare not advance upon the capital; that would expose +his communications too seriously for such a cautious and often cowardly +commander. I call him cowardly,' he added, 'even in the face of the +desperate Yolo expedition, for you see he is withdrawing all along the +west, and Green, though now in the heart of his country, encounters no +resistance.' The General hopes soon to recover; his wound, though +annoying, presents no character of gravity." + +NOTE.--General Osbourne's perfect sincerity is doubtful. He must have +known that Green was hopelessly short of ammunition. "Unfortunate," as +an epithet describing the collapse of the Army of the Centre, is perhaps +without parallel in military criticism. It was not unfortunate, it was +ruinous. Stevenson was a man of uneven character, whom his own successes +rendered timid; this timidity it was that delayed the end; but the war +was really over when General Napoleon surrendered his sword on the +afternoon of the 17th. + + + + +THE DAVOS PRESS + + + _In the Reproductions which follow of Moral Emblems, etc., by R. L. + Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne, the tint shows the actual size of the + paper on which the pamphlets were printed_ + + + NOTICE. + + Today is published by _S. L. Osbourne & Co._ + + ILLUSTRATED + BLACK CANYON, + + _or_ + + Wild Adventures in the FAR WEST. + + AN + Instructive and amusing TALE written by + _SAMUEL LLOYD OSBOURNE_ + + PRICE 6D. + + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. + +Although _Black Canyon_ is rather shorter than ordinary for that kind of +story, it is an excellent work. We cordially recommend it to our +readers. + + _Weekly Messenger._ + + +S. L. Osbourne's new work (_Black Canyon_) is splendidly illustrated. In +the story, the characters are bold and striking. It reflects the highest +honor on its writer. + + _Morning Call._ + + +A very remarkable work. Every page produces an effect. The end is as +singular as the beginning. I never saw such a work before. + + _R. L. Stevenson._ + + + + + BLACK CANYON, + + _or_ + Wild Adventures in the FAR WEST + + A + + Tale of Instruction and Amusement + for the Young. + + _BY_ + + _SAMUEL OSBOURNE_ + + + ILLUSTRATED. + + _Printed by the Author._ + Davos-Platz. + + + + +_Chapter I._ + + +In this forest we see, in a misty morning, a camp fire! Sitting lazily +around it are three men. The oldest is evidently a sailor. The sailor +turns to the fellow next to him and says, "blast my eyes if I know where +we is." "I's rather think we're in the vecenty of tho Rocky Mount'ins." +Remarked the young man. + +Suddenly the bushes parted. 'WHAT!' they all exclaim, '_Not BLACK +EAGLE?_' + +Who is Black Eagle? We shall see. + + + + +_Chapter II._ + + +James P. Drake was a gambler! Not in cards, but _in lost luggage_! In +America, all baggage etc. lost on trains and not reclaimed is put up to +auction _unopened_. + +James was one who always expected to find a fortune in some one of these +bags. + +[Illustration] + +One day he was at the auction house as usual, when a small and +exceedingly light trunk was put up for sale. He bought and opened it. + +_It was empty! NO! A little bit of paper_ was in the bottom with this +written on it. + +IDAHO + +[Illustration: Black Canyon 570 fR0(1)m west 10 L Beware Indian Black +Eagle] + +Being an intelligent young man he knew that this was _a clue for finding +Hidden TREASURE_! Then after a while he made this: _In Black Canyon, +Idaho, 570 feet west of some mark, 10 feet below a tree Treasure will be +found. Beware of Black Eagle (Indian)._ But he forgot the (1). + + + + +_Chapter III._ + + +James at once took two friends into his secret: an old sailor (Jack), +and a young frontiersman. + +[Illustration] + +They all agreed that they must start for Black Canyon at once. The +frontiersman said he had heard of Black Canyon in Idaho. + +But who could Black Eagle be? + + + + +_Chapter IV._ + + +Lost! Certainly lost! Lost in the Far West! The Frontiersman had lost +them in a large forest. They had travelled for about a month, first by +water (See page 4) then by stage, then by horse. + +[Illustration] + +This was their third day in it. Just after their morning meal the bushes +parted. + +[Illustration] + +_An Indian stood before them! (See 1st Chap.)_ He merely said '_COME_.' +They take up their arms and do so. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +Chapter V. + + +After following him for four hours, he stopped, turned around and said, +"Rest, eat you fellows." They did so. In about an hour they started +again. After walking ten miles they heard the roaring of an immense +cataract. Suddenly they find themselves face to face _with a long deep +gorge or canyon. 'Black Canyon,'_ they all cry. '_Stop_,' says the +Indian. He pushes a stone aside. It uncovers the mouth of a small cave. +The Indian struck a light with _two sticks_. They follow him into this +cave for about a mile when the cave opens into an immense Grotto. The +Indian whistled, _a bear and dog appeared_. "Bring meat, Nero," said the +Indian. + +The bear at once brought a deer. Which they cooked and ate. Then the +Indian said, _"Show me the Treasure clue." His eyes flashed when he saw +it._ + + + + +_Chapter VI._ + + +[Illustration] + +MIDNIGHT! _The Indian is about to light a fuse to a cask of gunpowder! +But James sees him and shoots him before he is able to light the fuse._ + +[Illustration] + +He ran to the side of the dying Indian who made this confession. "I am +not an Indian. 10 years ago I met G. Gidean, a man who found a quantity +of gold here. Before be died, he sent that clue to a friend _who never +received it_. I knew the gold was here. I have hunted 10 years for it, +your clue showed me where IT was," _(here Black Eagle told it to James.) +Then Black Eagle DIED_. + + + + +_Chapter VII._ + + +20 years have passed! James is the same as ever. Jack is owner of a +yacht. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +The Frontiersman owns a large cattle and hog ranch. + +[Illustration] + +Finis. + + + + + NOT I, + And Other POEMS, + + _BY_ + + Robert Louis Stevenson, + + Author of + + _The Blue Scalper, Travels + with a Donkey etc._ + PRICE 6d. + + + Dedicated to + + _Messrs. R.& R. CLARKE_ + + by + _S.L.Osbourne_ + Davos + + 1881 + + + + +_Not I._ + + + Some like drink + In a pint pot, + Some like to think; + Some not. + + Strong Dutch Cheese, + Old Kentucky Rye, + Some like these; + Not I. + + Some like Poe + And others like Scott, + Some like Mrs. Stowe; + Some not. + + Some like to laugh, + Some like to cry. + Some like chaff; + Not I. + +[Illustration] + + Here, perfect to a wish, + We offer, not a dish, + But just the platter: + A book that's not a book, + A pamphlet in the look + But not the matter. + + I own in disarray; + As to the flowers of May + The frosts of Winter, + To my poetic rage, + The smallness of the page + And of the printer. + + As seamen on the seas + With song and dance descry + Adown the morning breeze + An islet in the sky: + In Araby the dry, + As o'er the sandy plain + The panting camels cry + To smell the coming rain. + + So all things over earth + A common law obey + And rarity and worth + Pass, arm in arm, away; + And even so, today, + The printer and the bard, + In pressless Davos, pray + Their sixpenny reward. + +[Illustration] + + The pamphlet here presented + Was planned and printed by + A printer unindent-ed, + A bard whom all decry. + + The author and the printer, + With various kinds of skill, + Concocted it in Winter + At Davos on the Hill. + + They burned the nightly taper + But now the work is ripe + Observe the costly paper, + Remark the perfect type! + +[Illustration] + + Begun FEB ended OCT 1881 + + + + + MORAL EMBLEMS + + A + Collection of Cuts and Verses. + + _By_ + _ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON._ + + Author of + + _The Blue Scalper, Travels with a Donkey, + Treasure Island, Not I etc._ + + + Printers: + + S. L. OSBOURNE & COMPANY. + Davos-Platz. + + + + +[Illustration] + + See how the children in the print + Bound on the book to see what's in't! + O, like these pretty babes, may you + Seize and _apply_ this volume too! + And while your eye upon the cuts + With harmless ardour open and shuts, + Reader, may your immortal mind + To their sage lessons not be blind. + +[Illustration] + + Reader, your soul upraise to see, + In yon fair cut designed by me, + The pauper by the highwayside + Vainly soliciting from pride. + Mark how the Beau with easy air + Contemps the anxious rustic's prayer, + And casting a disdainful eye, + Goes gaily gallivanting by. + He from the poor averts his head.... + He will regret it when he's dead. + +[Illustration] + + _A Peak in Darien_. + + Broad gazing on untrodden lands, + See where adventurous Cortez stands; + While in the heavens above his head, + The Eagle seeks its daily bread. + How aptly fact to fact replies: + Heroes and Eagles, hills and skies. + Ye, who contemn the fatted slave, + Look on this emblem and be brave + +[Illustration] + + See in the print, how moved by whim + Trumpeting Jumbo, great and grim, + Adjusts his trunk, like a cravat, + To noose that individual's hat. + The sacred Ibis in the distance + Joys to observe his bold resistance. + +[Illustration] + + Mark, printed on the opposing page, + The unfortunate effects of rage. + A man (who might be you or me) + Hurls another into the sea. + Poor soul, his unreflecting act + His future joys will much contract, + And he will spoil his evening toddy + By dwelling on that mangled body. + + + + + Works recently issued by + + SAMUEL OSBOURNE & CO. DAVOS. + +NOT I and other poems, by Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_A volume of enchanting poetry._ + +BLACK CANYON or wild adventures in the Far West, by S. Osbourne. + +_A beautiful gift-book._ + +_To be obtained from the Publishers and all respectable BOOK-SELLERS._ + + + + +[Illustration] + + Stevenson's Moral Emblems. + + _Edition de Luxe: 5 full-page Illustrations._ + + Price 9 PENCE. + +The above speciman cut, illustrates a new departure in the business of +OSBOURNE & Co. + +Wood engraving, designed and executed by Mr. & Mrs. Stevenson and +printed under the PERSONAL supervision of Mr. Osbourne, now form a +branch of their business. + + + + + Today is published by _S. L. Osbourne & Co._ + + A + Second Collection Of + + MORAL + EMBLEMS. + By + + _ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON._ + +_Edition de Luxe_, tall paper, (extra fine) first impression. Price 10 +pence. + +_Popular Edition_, for the Million, small paper, cuts slightly worn, a +great bargain, 8 pence. + +NOTICE!!! + +A literary curiosity: Part of the M. S. of '_Black Canyon_.' Price 1s. +6d. + +Apply to + +SAMUEL OSBOURNE & C^o + +Buol Chalet (Villa Stein,) Davos. + + + + + MORAL EMBLEMS + + A Second Collection of Cuts and Verses. + + _By_ + _ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON._ + + Author of + + _Latter-day Arabian Nights, Travels + with a Donkey, Not I, &c._ + + Printers: + + S. L. OSBOURNE & COMPANY. + Davos-Platz. + + + + +[Illustration] + + With storms a-weather, rocks a-lee, + The dancing skiff puts forth to sea. + The lone dissenter in the blast + Recoils before the sight aghast. + But she, although the heavens be black, + Holds on upon the starboard tack. + For why? although today she sink + Still safe she sails in printers' ink, + And though today the seamen drown, + My cut shall hand their memory down. + +[Illustration] + + The careful angler chose his nook + At morning by the lilied brook, + And all the noon his rod he plied + By that romantic riverside. + Soon as the evening hours decline + Tranquilly he'll return to dine, + And breathing forth a pious wish, + Will cram his belly full of fish. + +[Illustration] + + The Abbot for a walk went out + A wealthy cleric, very stout, + And Robin has that Abbot stuck + As the red hunter spears the buck. + The djavel or the javelin + Has, you observe, gone bravely in, + And you may hear that weapon whack + Bang through the middle of his back. + _Hence we may learn that abbots should + Never go walking in a wood._ + +[Illustration] + + The frozen peaks he once explored, + But now he's dead and by the board. + How better far at home to have stayed + Attended by the parlour maid, + And warmed his knees before the fire + Until the hour when folks retire! + _So, if you would be spared to friends. + Do nothing but for business ends_. + +[Illustration] + + Industrious pirate! see him sweep + The lonely bosom of the deep, + And daily the horizon scan + From Hatteras or Matapan. + Be sure, before that pirate's old, + He will have made a pot of gold, + And will retire from all his labours + And be respected by his neighbors. + _You also scan your life's horizon + For all that you can clap your eyes on._ + + + + + Works recently issued by + + SAMUEL OSBOURNE & C^o. + DAVOS. + +NOT I and other poems, by Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_A volume of enchanting poetry._ + +BLACK CANYON or wild adventures in the Far West, by S. L. Osbourne. + +_A beautiful gift-book._ + +MORAL EMBLEMS, (first Series.) by Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_Has only to be seen to be admired._ + +_To be obtained from the Publishers and all respectable Book-sellers._ + + + + +A Martial Elegy for some lead Soldiers. + + + For certain soldiers lately dead + Our-reverent dirge shall here be said. + Them, when their martial leader called, + No dread preparative appalled; + But leaden hearted, leaden heeled, + I marked them steadfast in the field + Death grimly sided with the foe, + And smote each leaden hero low. + Proudly they perished one by one: + The dread Pea-cannon's work was done + O not for them the tears we shed, + Consigned to their congenial lead; + But while unmoved their sleep they take, + We mourn for their dear Captain's sake, + For their dear Captain, who shall smart + Both in his pocket and his heart, + Who saw his heros shed their gore + And lacked a shilling to buy more! + Price 1 penny. (1st Edition.) + + + + + Today is published by SAMUEL OSBOURNE & Co. + + THE + GRAVER and the PEN + + OR + Scenes from Nature with Appropriate Verses + + by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON author of the 'EMBLEMS.' + +'The Graver and the Pen' is a most strikingly illustrated little work +and the poetry so pleasing that when it is taken up to be read is +finished before it is set down. + +It contains 5 full-page illustrations (all of the first class) and 11 +pages of poetry finely printed on superb paper (especially obtained from +C. G. Squintani & Co. London) with the title on the cover in red +letters. + +Small 8vo. Granite paper cover with coloured title + +_Price Ninepence per Copy_. + +Splendid chance for an energetic publisher!!! + +For Sale--Copyright of 'Black Canyon' price 1 / 3/4 + +Autograph of Mr. R. L. Stevenson price -/3, ditto of Mr. S. L. Osbourne +price 1/- each. + +If copies of the 'Graver,' 'Emblems,' or 'Black Canyon' are wanted apply +to the publisher, 17 Harlot Row Edinburgh. + + + + +THE GRAVER & THE PEN. + + + + + THE + _GRAVER & THE PEN_, + + or + + Scenes from Nature with + Appropriate Verses + + BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + + author of + +'The New Arabian Nights,' 'Moral Emblems,' 'Not I,' 'Treasure Island,' +etc. + + _Illustrated._ + + EDINBURGH + + _S. L. Osbourne & Company_ + No. 17 HERIOT ROW. + +[It was only by the kindness of Mr. CRERAR of Kingussie that we are able +to issue this little work--having allowed us to print with his own press +when ours was broken.] + + + + +PROEM. + + + Unlike the common run of men, + I wield a double power to please, + And use the GRAVER and the PEN + With equal aptitude and ease. + + I move with that illustrious crew, + The ambidextrous Kings of Art; + And every mortal thing I do + Brings ringing money in the mart. + + Hence, to the morning hour, the mead, + The forest and the stream perceive + Me wandering as the muses lead---- + Or back returning in the eve. + + Two muses like two maiden aunts, + The engraving and the singing muse, + Follow, through all my favorite haunts, + My devious traces in the dews. + + To guide and cheer me, each attends; + Each speeds my rapid task along; + One to my cuts her ardour lends, + One breathes her magic in my song. + +[Illustration] + + + + +_The Precarious Mill._ + + + Alone above the stream it stands, + Above the iron hill, + The topsy-turvy, tumble-down, + Yet habitable mill. + + Still as the ringing saws advance + To slice the humming deal, + All day the pallid miller hears + The thunder of the wheel. + + He hears the river plunge and roar + As roars the angry mob; + He feels the solid building quake, + The trusty timbers throb. + + All night beside the fire he cowers: + He hears the rafters jar: + O why is he not in a proper house + As decent people are! + + The floors are all aslant, he sees, + The doors are all a-jam; + And from the hook above his head + All crooked swings the ham. + + "Alas," he cries and shakes his head, + "I see by every sign, + There soon will be the deuce to pay, + With this estate of mine." + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Disputatious Pines. + + + The first pine to the second said: + "My leaves are black, my branches red; + I stand upon this moor of mine, + A hoar, _unconquerable pine_." + + The second sniffed and answered: "Pooh, + I am as good a pine as you." + + "Discourteous tree" the first replied, + "The tempest in my boughs had cried, + The hunter slumbered in my shade, + A hundred years ere you were made." + + The second smiled as he returned: + "I shall be here when you are burned." + + So far dissension ruled the pair, + Each turned on each a frowning air, + When flickering from the bank anigh, + A flight of martens met their eye. + Sometime their course they watched; and then + They nodded off to sleep again. + +[Illustration] + + + + +_The Tramps_. + + + Now long enough has day endured, + Or King Apollo Palinured, + Seaward be steers his panting team, + And casts on earth his latest gleam. + + But see! the Tramps with jaded eye + Their destined provinces espy. + Long through the hills their way they took, + Long camped beside the mountain brook; + 'Tis over; now with rising hope + They pause upon the downward slope, + And as their aching bones they rest, + Their anxious captain scans the west. + + So paused Alaric on the Alps + And ciphered up the Roman scalps. + +[Illustration] + + + + +_The Foolhardy Geographer._ + + + The howling desert miles around, + The tinkling brook the only sound-- + Wearied with all his toils and feats, + The traveller dines on potted meats; + On potted meats and princely wines, + Not wisely but too well he dines. + + The brindled Tiger loud may roar, + High may the hovering Vulture soar, + Alas! regardless of them all, + Soon shall the empurpled glutton sprawl-- + Soon, in the desert's hushed repose, + Shall trumpet tidings through his nose! + Alack, unwise! that nasal song + Shall be the Ounce's dinner-gong! + + * * * * * + + A blemish in the cut appears; + Alas! it cost both blood and tears. + The glancing graver swerved aside, + Fast flowed the artist's vital tide! + And now the apologetic bard + Demands indulgence for his pard! + +[Illustration] + + + + +_The Angler & the Clown._ + + + The echoing bridge you here may see, + The pouring lynn, the waving tree, + The eager angler fresh from town-- + Above, the contumelious clown. + 'The angler plies his line and rod, + The clodpole stands with many a nod,-- + With many a nod and many a grin, + He sees him cast his engine in. + + "What have you caught?" the peasant cries. + + "Nothing as yet," the Fool replies. + + + + +MORAL TALES + + + + +[Illustration] + + Rob and Ben + + or + The PIRATE and the APOTHECARY. + Scene the First. + + + + +[Illustration] + + Rob and Ben + + or + The PIRATE and the APOTHECARY. + Scene the Second. + + + + +[Illustration] + + Rob and Ben + + or + The PIRATE and the APOTHECARY. + Scene the Third. + + + + +ROBIN AND BEN: OR, THE PIRATE AND THE APOTHECARY + + + Come lend me an attentive ear + A startling moral tale to hear, + Of Pirate Rob and Chemist Ben, + And different destinies of men. + + Deep in the greenest of the vales + That nestle near the coast of Wales, + The heaving main but just in view, + Robin and Ben together grew, + Together worked and played the fool, + Together shunned the Sunday school, + And pulled each other's youthful noses + Around the cots, among the roses. + + Together but unlike they grew; + Robin was rough, and through and through + Bold, inconsiderate, and manly, + Like some historic Bruce or Stanley. + Ben had a mean and servile soul, + He robbed not, though he often stole. + He sang on Sunday in the choir, + And tamely capped the passing Squire. + + At length, intolerant of trammels-- + Wild as the wild Bithynian camels, + Wild as the wild sea-eagles--Bob + His widowed dam contrives to rob, + And thus with great originality + Effectuates his personality. + Thenceforth his terror-haunted flight + He follows through the starry night; + And with the early morning breeze, + Behold him on the azure seas. + The master of a trading dandy + Hires Robin for a go of brandy; + And all the happy hills of home + Vanish beyond the fields of foam. + + Ben, meanwhile, like a tin reflector, + Attended on the worthy rector; + Opened his eyes and held his breath, + And flattered to the point of death; + And was at last, by that good fairy, + Apprenticed to the Apothecary. + + So Ben, while Robin chose to roam, + A rising chemist was at home, + Tended his shop with learned air, + Watered his drugs and oiled his hair, + And gave advice to the unwary, + Like any sleek apothecary. + + Meanwhile upon the deep afar + Robin the brave was waging war, + With other tarry desperadoes + About the latitude of Barbadoes. + He knew no touch of craven fear; + His voice was thunder in the cheer; + First, from the main-to'-gallan' high, + The skulking merchantman to spy-- + The first to bound upon the deck, + The last to leave the sinking wreck. + His hand was steel, his word was law, + His mates regarded him with awe. + No pirate in the whole profession + Held a more honourable position. + + At length, from years of anxious toil, + Bold Robin seeks his native soil; + Wisely arranges his affairs, + And to his native dale repairs. + The Bristol _Swallow_ sets him down + Beside the well-remembered town. + He sighs, he spits, he marks the scene, + Proudly he treads the village green; + And free from pettiness and rancour, + Takes lodgings at the 'Crown and Anchor.' + + Strange when a man so great and good, + Once more in his home-country stood, + Strange that the sordid clowns should show + A dull desire to have him go. + + His clinging breeks, his tarry hat, + The way he swore, the way he spat, + A certain quality of manner, + Alarming like the pirate's banner-- + Something that did not seem to suit all-- + Something, O call it bluff, not brutal-- + Something at least, howe'er it's called, + Made Robin generally black-balled. + + His soul was wounded; proud and glum, + Alone he sat and swigged his rum, + And took a great distaste to men + Till he encountered Chemist Ben. + Bright was the hour and bright the day, + That threw them in each other's way; + Glad were their mutual salutations, + Long their respective revelations. + Before the inn in sultry weather + They talked of this and that together; + Ben told the tale of his indentures, + And Rob narrated his adventures. + Last, as the point of greatest weight, + The pair contrasted their estate, + And Robin, like a boastful sailor, + Despised the other for a tailor. + + 'See,' he remarked, 'with envy, see + A man with such a fist as me! + Bearded and ringed, and big, and brown, + I sit and toss the stingo down. + Hear the gold jingle in my bag-- + All won beneath the Jolly Flag!' + + Ben moralised and shook his head: + 'You wanderers earn and eat your bread. + The foe is found, beats or is beaten, + And either how, the wage is eaten. + And after all your pully-hauly + Your proceeds look uncommon small-ly. + You had done better here to tarry + Apprentice to the Apothecary. + The silent pirates of the shore + Eat and sleep soft, and pocket more + Than any red, robustious ranger + Who picks his farthings hot from danger. + You clank your guineas on the board; + Mine are with several bankers stored. + You reckon riches on your digits, + You dash in chase of Sals and Bridgets, + You drink and risk delirium tremens, + Your whole estate a common seaman's! + Regard your friend and school companion, + Soon to be wed to Miss Trevanion + (Smooth, honourable, fat and flowery, + With Heaven knows how much land in dowry) + Look at me--am I in good case? + Look at my hands, look at my face; + Look at the cloth of my apparel; + Try me and test me, lock and barrel; + And own, to give the devil his due, + I have made more of life than you. + Yet I nor sought nor risked a life; + I shudder at an open knife; + The perilous seas I still avoided + And stuck to land whate'er betided. + I had no gold, no marble quarry, + I was a poor apothecary, + Yet here I stand, at thirty-eight, + A man of an assured estate.' + + 'Well,' answered Robin--'well, and how?' + + The smiling chemist tapped his brow. + 'Rob,' he replied,'this throbbing brain + Still worked and hankered after gain. + By day and night, to work my will, + It pounded like a powder mill; + And marking how the world went round + A theory of theft it found. + Here is the key to right and wrong: + _Steal little but steal all day long_; + And this invaluable plan + Marks what is called the Honest Man. + When first I served with Doctor Pill, + My hand was ever in the till. + Now that I am myself a master + My gains come softer still and faster. + As thus: on Wednesday, a maid + Came to me in the way of trade. + Her mother, an old farmer's wife, + Required a drug to save her life. + 'At once, my dear, at once,' I said, + Patted the child upon the head, + Bade her be still a loving daughter, + And filled the bottle up with water. + + 'Well, and the mother?' Robin cried. + + 'O she!' said Ben, 'I think she died.' + + 'Battle and blood, death and disease, + Upon the tainted Tropic seas-- + The attendant sharks that chew the cud-- + The abhorred scuppers spouting blood-- + The untended dead, the Tropic sun-- + The thunder of the murderous gun-- + The cut-throat crew--the Captain's curse-- + The tempest blustering worse and worse-- + These have I known and these can stand, + But you, I settle out of hand!' + + Out flashed the cutlass, down went Ben + Dead and rotten, there and then. + + + + +THE BUILDER'S DOOM + + + In eighteen twenty Deacon Thin + Feu'd the land and fenced it in, + And laid his broad foundations down + About a furlong out of town. + + Early and late the work went on. + The carts were toiling ere the dawn; + The mason whistled, the hodman sang; + Early and late the trowels rang; + And Thin himself came day by day + To push the work in every way. + An artful builder, patent king + Of all the local building ring, + Who was there like him in the quarter + For mortifying brick and mortar, + Or pocketing the odd piastre + By substituting lath and plaster? + With plan and two-foot rule in hand, + He by the foreman took his stand, + With boisterous voice, with eagle glance + To stamp upon extravagance. + Far thrift of bricks and greed of guilders, + He was the Buonaparte of Builders. + + The foreman, a desponding creature, + Demurred to here and there a feature: + 'For surely, sir--with your permeession-- + Bricks here, sir, in the main parteetion...' + The builder goggled, gulped and stared, + The foreman's services were spared. + Thin would not count among his minions + A man of Wesleyan opinions. + + 'Money is money,' so he said. + 'Crescents are crescents, trade is trade. + Pharaohs and emperors in their seasons + Built, I believe, for different reasons-- + Charity, glory, piety, pride-- + To pay the men, to please a bride, + To use their stone, to spite their neighbours, + Not for a profit on their labours. + They built to edify or bewilder; + I build because I am a builder. + Crescent and street and square I build, + Plaster and paint and carve and gild. + Around the city see them stand, + These triumphs of my shaping hand, + With bulging walls, with sinking floors, + With shut, impracticable doors, + Fickle and frail in every part, + And rotten to their inmost heart. + There shall the simple tenant find + Death in the falling window-blind, + Death in the pipe, death in the faucit, + Death in the deadly water-closet! + A day is set for all to die: + _Caveat emptor!_ what care I?' + + As to Amphion's tuneful kit + Troy rose, with towers encircling it; + As to the Mage's brandished wand + A spiry palace clove the sand; + To Thin's indomitable financing, + That phantom crescent kept advancing. + When first the brazen bells of churches + Called clerk and parson to their perches, + The worshippers of every sect + Already viewed it with respect; + A second Sunday had not gone + Before the roof was rattled on: + And when the fourth was there, behold + The crescent finished, painted, sold! + + The stars proceeded in their courses, + Nature with her subversive forces, + Time, too, the iron-toothed and sinewed; + And the edacious years continued. + Thrones rose and fell; and still the crescent, + Unsanative and now senescent, + A plastered skeleton of lath, + Looked forward to a day of wrath. + In the dead night, the groaning timber + Would jar upon the ear of slumber, + And, like Dodona's talking oak, + Of oracles and judgments spoke. + When to the music fingered well + The feet of children lightly fell, + The sire, who dozed by the decanters, + Started, and dreamed of misadventures. + The rotten brick decayed to dust; + The iron was consumed by rust; + Each tabid and perverted mansion + Hung in the article of declension. + + So forty, fifty, sixty passed; + Until, when seventy came at last, + The occupant of number three + Called friends to hold a jubilee. + Wild was the night; the charging rack + Had forced the moon upon her back; + The wind piped up a naval ditty; + And the lamps winked through all the city. + Before that house, where lights were shining, + Corpulent feeders, grossly dining, + And jolly clamour, hum and rattle, + Fairly outvoiced the tempest's battle. + As still his moistened lip he fingered, + The envious policeman lingered; + While far the infernal tempest sped, + And shook the country folks in bed, + And tore the trees and tossed the ships, + He lingered and he licked his lips. + Lo, from within, a hush! the host + Briefly expressed the evening's toast; + And lo, before the lips were dry, + The Deacon rising to reply! + 'Here in this house which once I built, + Papered and painted, carved and gilt, + And out of which, to my content, + I netted seventy-five per cent.; + Here at this board of jolly neighbours, + I reap the credit of my labours. + These were the days--I will say more-- + These were the grand old days of yore! + The builder laboured day and night; + He watched that every brick was right; + The decent men their utmost did; + And the house rose--a pyramid! + These were the days, our provost knows, + When forty streets and crescents rose, + The fruits of my creative noddle, + All more or less upon a model, + Neat and commodious, cheap and dry, + A perfect pleasure to the eye! + I found this quite a country quarter; + I leave it solid lath and mortar. + In all, I was the single actor-- + And am this city's benefactor! + Since then, alas! both thing and name, + Shoddy across the ocean came-- + Shoddy that can the eye bewilder + And makes me blush to meet a builder! + Had this good house, in frame or fixture, + Been tempered by the least admixture + Of that discreditable shoddy, + Should we to-day compound our toddy, + Or gaily marry song and laughter + Below its sempiternal rafter? + Not so!' the Deacon cried. + + The mansion + Had marked his fatuous expansion. + The years were full, the house was fated, + The rotten structure crepitated! + + A moment, and the silent guests + Sat pallid as their dinner vests. + A moment more, and root and branch, + That mansion fell in avalanche, + Story on story, floor on floor, + Roof, wall and window, joist and door, + Dead weight of damnable disaster, + A cataclysm of lath and plaster. + + _Siloam did not choose a sinner-- + All were not builders at the dinner._ + + + + +[Illustration: LORD NELSON AND HIS TAR.] + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: (_Facsimile of Letter addressed by R. L. Stevenson, in +his Tenth Year, to his Aunt Miss Balfour._)] + + + + + PRINTED BY + CASSELL & CO., LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, + LONDON, E.C. + + + + + + + * * * * * + + + + + +Transcriber's note: + +The following typographical errors were corrected: + + Page 159: "The hunting still goes on, and at any moment", 'moment' + amended from 'monent'. + + Footnote 46: "Jour. Scot. Met. Soc., New Ser. xxvi." 'Scot.' + amended from 'Sbot.' + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON +- SWANSTON EDITION VOL. 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