36 files changed, 26289 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/31750-8.txt b/31750-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6ef90fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8694 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature
+and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+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: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 23, 2010 [EBook #31750]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE
+
+OF
+
+POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.
+
+VOLUME XX.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PHILADELPHIA:
+
+J. B. LIPPINCOTT AND CO.
+
+1877.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by
+
+J.B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.,
+
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S PRESS,
+
+_Philadelphia_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                                        PAGE
+
+Abbeys and Castles                        _H. James, Jr._                434
+
+A Day's March through Finland             _David Ker_                    116
+
+A Few Letters                             _E. C. Hewitt_                 111
+
+A Great Day. From the Italian of Edmondo de Amicis                       340
+
+A Kentucky Duel                           _Will Wallace Harney_     578, 738
+
+A Law unto Herself                        _Rebecca Harding Davis_    39, 167,
+                                                          292, 464, 614, 719
+
+Alfred de Musset                          _Sarah B. Wister_              478
+
+Among the Kabyles (_Illustrated._)        _Edward C. Bruce_         265, 406
+
+A Month in Sicily (_Illustrated._)        _Alfred T. Bacon_              649
+
+An English Easter                         _Henry James, Jr._              50
+
+A Paduan Holiday (_Illustrated._)         _Charlotte Adams_              278
+
+A Portrait                                _Ita Aniol Prokop_             698
+
+A Summer Evening's Dream                  _Edward Bellamy_               320
+
+A Venetian of the Eighteenth Century      _H. M. Benson_                 347
+
+Baden and Allerheiligen (_Illustrated._)  _T. Adolphus Trollope_         535
+
+Brandywine, 1777                          _Howard M. Jenkins_            329
+
+Captured by Cossacks. (_Illustrated._) Extracts from
+  Letters of a French Officer in 1813     _Joseph Diss Debar_            684
+
+Ch�teau Courance                          _John V. Sears_                235
+
+Chester and the Dee (_Illustrated._)      _Lady Blanche Murphy_     393, 521
+
+Communism in the United States            _Austin Bierbower_             501
+
+Days of my Youth                          _M. T._                        712
+
+Down the Rhine (_Illustrated._)           _Lady Blanche Murphy_       9, 137
+
+Edinburgh Jottings (_Illustrated._)       _Alfred S. Gibbs_               28
+
+English Domestics and their Ways          _Olive Logan_                  758
+
+Folk-Lore of the Southern Negroes         _William Owens_                748
+
+"For Percival." (_Illustrated._)                               416, 546, 665
+
+In a Russian "Trakteer"                   _David Ker_                    247
+
+Irish Society in the Last Century         _Eliza Wilson_                 183
+
+L�onie Regnault:
+  A Study from French Life                _Mary E. Blair_                 61
+
+Little Lizay                              _Sarah Winter Kellogg_         442
+
+London at Midsummer                       _H. James, Jr._                603
+
+Madame Patterson-Bonaparte                                               309
+
+Ouida's Novels                            _Thomas Sergeant Perry_        732
+
+Our Blackbirds                            _Ernest Ingersoll_             376
+
+"Our Jook"                                _Henrietta H. Holdich_         494
+
+Primary and Secondary Education in France _C. H. Harding_                 69
+
+Some Last Words from Sainte-Beuve         _Sarah B. Wister_              104
+
+The Bass of the Potomac                   _W. Mackay Laffan_             455
+
+The Chef's Beefsteak                      _Virginia W. Johnson_          596
+
+The Church of St. Sophia                  _Hugh Craig_                   629
+
+The Doings and Goings-on of Hired Girls   _Mary Dean_                    589
+
+The Flight of a Princess                  _W. A. Baillie-Grohman_        566
+
+The Marquis of Lossie                     _George Macdonald_    81, 210, 355
+
+The New Soprano                           _Penn Shirley_                 249
+
+The Paris Caf�s                           _Gilman C. Fisher_             202
+
+Verona. (_Illustrated._)                  _Sarah B. Wister_              155
+
+Vina's "Ole Man." (_Illustrated._)        _Lizzie W. Champney_           194
+
+
+LITERATURE OF THE DAY, comprising Reviews of the following Works:
+
+Avery, Benjamin Parke--Californian Pictures in Prose and Verse           775
+
+Baker, M. A., James--Turkey                                              135
+
+Burroughs, John--Birds and Poets                                         516
+
+Dodge, R. I.--The Plains of the Great West and their Inhabitants         262
+
+Doudan, X.--M�langes et Lettres                                          646
+
+Field, Marie E.--The Wings of Courage                                    776
+
+Gill, W. F.--The Life of Edgar Allan Poe                                 518
+
+Concourt, de, Edmond and Jules--Madame Gervaisais                        388
+
+Gr�ville, Henry--Les Koumiassine                                         519
+
+Hoffman, Wickham--Camp, Court and Siege                                  261
+
+Kismet                                                                   392
+
+McCoan, J. C.--Egypt as it Is                                            774
+
+Mazade, de, Charles--The Life of Count Cavour                            772
+
+Migerka, Catherine--Briefe aus Philadelphia (1876) an eine Freundin      643
+
+Nimport                                                                  642
+
+Parkman, Francis--Count Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV         641
+
+Price, Major Sir Rose Lambart--The Two Americas                          132
+
+Procter, Bryan Waller (Barry Cornwall)--An Autobiographical Fragment
+    and Biographical Notes                                               133
+
+Reid, T. Wemyss--Charlotte Bront�                                        390
+
+Robinson, Leora B.--Patsy                                                776
+
+Sherwood, Mary Neal--Jack. From the French of Alphonse Daudet            645
+
+Squier, E. George--Peru                                                  259
+
+Synge, W. W. Follett--Olivia Raleigh                                     518
+
+Wheaton, Campbell--Six Sinners; or, School-Days in Bantam Valley         776
+
+
+OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP, comprising the following Articles:
+
+A Cheering Sign, 258; A Crying Evil, 771; A Day at the Paris
+Conservatoire, 512; A Missing Item, 770; A Neglected Branch of
+Philology, 385; Another Defunct Monopoly, 386; Artistic Jenkinsism, 640;
+Brigham Young and Mormonism, 514; Fernan Caballero, 761; Foreign Leaders
+in Russia and Turkey, 765; Fran�ois Buloz, 382; Friend Abner in the
+North-West, 254; How shall we Call the Birds? 256; Katerfelto in Repose,
+387; "Les Naufrag�s de Calais," 637; Miridite Courtship, 253; Notes from
+Moscow, 509; Punching the Drinks, 130; Realistic Art, 639; Russian and
+Turkish Music, 636; The Coming Elections in France, 127; The Dead of
+Paris, 122; The Departure of the Imperial Guards, 768; The Education of
+Women in India, 515; The Modern French Novelists, 379; The
+Nautch-Dancers of India, 132; The Octroi, 763; The Religious Struggle at
+Geneva, 125; Von Moltke in Turkey, 129; Water-Lilies, 384.
+
+
+POETRY:
+
+A Wish                              _Henrietta R. Eliot_      308
+
+Fog                                 _Emma Lazarus_            207
+
+For Another                         _S. M. B. Piatt_          405
+
+From the Flats                      _Sidney Lanier_           115
+
+"God's Poor"                        _E. R. Champlin_          711
+
+Heine (Buch der Lieder)             _Charles Quiet_           354
+
+Selim                               _Annie Porter_            755
+
+Song                                _Oscar Laighton_          545
+
+Sven Duva. From the Swedish
+  of Johan Ludvig Runeberg          _C. Rosell_               611
+
+The Bee                             _Sidney Lanier_           493
+
+The Chrysalis of a Bookworm         _Maurice F. Egan_         463
+
+The Dream of St. Theresa            _Epes Sargent_            565
+
+The Elixir                          _Emma Lazarus_             60
+
+The Marsh                           _S. Weir Mitchell_        245
+
+The Sweetener                       _Mary B. Dodge_            49
+
+To Sleep                            _Emilie Poulsson_         201
+
+
+
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE
+
+OF
+
+_POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE_.
+
+JULY, 1877.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by J. B.
+LIPPINCOTT & CO., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at
+Washington.
+
+
+
+
+DOWN THE RHINE.
+
+THIRD PAPER.
+
+
+[Illustration: EVENING CONCERT AT WIESBADEN.]
+
+Wiesbaden (the "Meadow-Bath"), though an inland town, partakes of some
+of the Rhine characteristics, though even if it did not, its notoriety
+as a spa would be enough to make some mention of it necessary. Its
+promenade and Kurhaus, its society, evening concerts, alleys of
+beautiful plane trees, its frequent illuminations with Bengal lights,
+reddening the classic peristyles and fountains with which modern taste
+has decked the town, its airy Moorish pavilion over the springs, and
+its beautiful Greek chapel with fire-gilt domes, each surmounted by a
+double cross connected with the dome by gilt chains--a chapel built by
+the duke Adolph of Nassau in memory of his wife, Elizabeth Michaelovna,
+a Russian princess,--are things that almost every American traveler
+remembers, not to mention the Neroberger wine grown in the neighborhood.
+
+Schlangenbad, a less well-known bathing-place, is a favorite goal of
+Wiesbaden excursionists, for a path through dense beech woods leads from
+the stirring town to the quieter "woman's republic," where, before
+sovereigns in incognito came to patronize it, there had long been a
+monopoly of its charms by the wives and daughters of rich men, bankers,
+councilors, noblemen, etc., and also by a set of the higher clergy. The
+waters were famous for their sedative qualities, building up the nervous
+system, and, it is said, also beautifying the skin. Some credulous
+persons traced the name of the "Serpents' Bath" to the fact that snakes
+lurked in the springs and gave the waters their healing powers; but as
+the neighborhood abounds in a small harmless kind of reptile, this is
+the more obvious reason for the name. I spent a pleasant ten days at
+Schlangenbad twelve or thirteen years ago, when many of the German
+sovereigns preferred it for its quiet to the larger and noisier resorts,
+and remember with special pleasure meeting with fields of Scotch heather
+encircled by beech and chestnut woods, with ferny, rocky nooks such
+as--when it is in Germany that you find them--suggest fairies, and with
+a curious village church, just restored by a rich English Catholic,
+since dead, who lived in Brussels and devoted his fortune to religious
+purposes all over the world. This church was chiefly interesting as a
+specimen of what country churches were in the Middle Ages, having been
+restored in the style common to those days. It was entirely of stone,
+within as well as without, and I remember no painting on the walls. The
+"tabernacle," instead of being placed _on_ the altar, as is the custom
+in most churches now, and has been for two or three hundred years, was,
+according to the old German custom, a separate shrine, with a little
+tapering carved spire, placed in the corner of the choir, with a red
+lamp burning before it. Here, as in most of the Rhine neighborhoods, the
+people are mainly Catholics, but in places where summer guests of all
+nations and religions are gathered there is often a friendly arrangement
+by which the same building is used for the services of two or three
+faiths. There was, I think, one such at Schlangenbad, where Catholic,
+Lutheran and Anglican services were successively held every Sunday
+morning; and in another place, where a large Catholic church has since
+been built, the old church was divided down the middle of the nave by a
+wooden partition about the height of a man's head, and Catholic and
+Protestant had each a side permanently assigned to them for their
+services. This kind of practical toleration, probably in the beginning
+the result of poverty on both sides, but at any rate creditable to its
+practicers, was hardly to be found anywhere outside of Germany. I
+remember hearing of the sisters of one of the pope's German prelates,
+Monsignor Prince Hohenlohe, who were Lutherans, embroidering
+ecclesiastical vestments and altar-linen for their brother with as much
+delight as if he and they believed alike; and (though this is anything
+but praiseworthy, for it was prompted by policy and not by toleration)
+it was a custom of the smaller German princes to bring their daughters
+up in the vaguest belief in vital truths, in order that when they
+married they might become whatever their husbands happened to be,
+whether Lutheran, Anglican, Catholic or Greek. The events of the last
+few years, however, have changed all this, and religious strife is as
+energetic in Germany as it was at one time in Italy: people must take
+sides, and this outward, easy-going old life has disappeared before the
+novel kind of persecution sanctioned by the Falk laws. Some persons even
+think the present state of things traceable to that same toleration,
+leading, as it did in many cases, to lukewarmness and indifferentism in
+religion. Strange phases for a fanatical Germany to pass through, and a
+stranger commentary on the words of Saint Remigius to Clovis, the first
+Frankish Christian king: "Burn that which thou hast worshiped, and
+worship that which thou hast burnt"!
+
+[Illustration: PROMENADE AT WIESBADEN.]
+
+[Illustration: LUTHER'S HOUSE AT FRANKFORT.]
+
+Schwalbach is another of Wiesbaden's handmaidens--a pleasant, rather
+quiet spot, from which, if you please, you can follow the Main to the
+abode of sparkling hock or the vinehills of Hochheim, the property of
+the church which crowns the heights. This is at the entrance of the
+Roman-named Taunus Mountains, where there are bathing-places, ruined
+castles, ancient bridges, plenty of legends, and, above all, dark solemn
+old chestnut forests. But we have a long way to go, and must not linger
+on our road to the free imperial city of Frankfort, with its past
+history and present importance. Here too I have some personal
+remembrances, though hurried ones. The hotel itself--what a relief such
+hotels are from the modern ones with electric bells and elevators and
+fifteen stories!--was an old patrician house ample, roomy, dignified,
+and each room had some individuality, notwithstanding the needful amount
+of transformation from its old self. It was a dull, wet day when we
+arrived, and next morning we went to the cathedral, Pepin's foundation,
+of which I remember, however, less than of the great hall in the R�mer
+building where the Diets sat and where the "Golden Bull" is still
+kept--a hall now magnificently and appropriately frescoed with subjects
+from German history. Then the far-famed Judengasse, a street where the
+first Rothschild's mother lived till within a score of years ago, and
+where now, among the dark, crazy tenements, so delightful to the
+artist's eye, there glitters one of the most gorgeously-adorned
+synagogues in Europe. A change indeed from the times when Jews were
+hunted and hooted at in these proud, fanatical cities, which were not
+above robbing them and making use of them even while they jeered and
+persecuted! The great place in front of the emperor's hall was the
+appointed ground for tournaments, and as we lounge on we come to a queer
+house, with its lowest corner cut away and the oriel window above
+supported on one massive pillar: from that window tradition says that
+Luther addressed the people just before starting for Worms to meet the
+Diet. This other house has a more modern look: it is Goethe's
+birthplace, the house where the noted housekeeper and accomplished
+hostess, "_Frau Rath_"--or "Madam Councilor," as she was
+called--gathered round her those stately parties that are special to the
+great free cities of olden trade. Frankfort has not lost her reputation
+in this line: her merchants and civic functionaries still form an
+aristocracy, callings as well as fortunes are hereditary, and if some
+modern elements have crept in, they have not yet superseded the old. The
+regattas and boating-parties on the Main remind one of the stir on the
+banks of the Thames between Richmond and Twickenham, where so many "city
+men" have lovely retired homes; but Frankfort has its Kew Gardens also,
+where tropical flora, tree-ferns and palms, in immense conservatories,
+make perpetual summer, while the Zoological Garden and the bands that
+play there are another point of attraction. Still, I think one more
+willingly seeks the older parts--the Ashtree Gate, with its machicolated
+tower and turrets, the only remnants of the fortifications; the old
+cemetery, where Goethe's mother is buried; and the old bridge over the
+Main, with the statue of Charlemagne bearing the globe of empire in his
+hand, which an innocent countryman from the neighboring village of
+Sachsenhausen mistook for the man who invented the _Aeppelwei_, a
+favorite drink of Frankfort. This bridge has another curiosity--a gilt
+cock on an iron rod, commemorating the usual legend of the "first living
+thing" sent across to cheat the devil, who had extorted such a promise
+from the architect. But although the ancient remains are attractive, we
+must not forget the Bethmann Museum, with its treasure of Dannecker's
+_Ariadne_, and the St�del Art Institute, both the legacies of
+public-spirited merchants to their native town; the Bourse, where a
+business hardly second to any in London is done; and the memory of so
+many great minds of modern times--B�rne, Brentano, Bettina von Arnim,
+Feurbach, Savigny, Schlossen, etc. The Roman remains at Ober�rzel in the
+neighborhood ought to have a chapter to themselves, forming as they do a
+miniature Pompeii, but the Rhine and its best scenery calls us away from
+its great tributary, and we already begin to feel the witchery which a
+popular poet has expressed in these lines, supposed to be a warning from
+a father to a wandering son:
+
+  To the Rhine, to the Rhine! go not to the Rhine! My son, I counsel thee well;
+  For there life is too sweet and too fine, and every breath is a spell.
+
+  The nixie calls to thee out of the flood; and if thou her smiles shouldst see,
+  And the Lorelei, with her pale cold lips, then 'tis all over with thee:
+
+  For bewitched and delighted, yet seized with fear,
+        Thy home is forgotten and mourners weep here.
+
+[Illustration: JOHN WOLFGANG GOETHE.]
+
+[Illustration: GOETHE'S BIRTHPLACE.]
+
+This is the Rheingau, the most beautiful valley of rocks and bed of
+rapids which occurs during the whole course of the river--the region
+most crowded with legends and castles, and most frequented by strangers
+by railroad and steamboat. The right bank is at first the only one that
+calls for attention, dotted as it is with townlets, each nestled in
+orchards, gardens and vineyards, with a church and steeple, and terraces
+of odd, over-hanging houses; little stone arbors trellised with
+grapevines; great crosses and statues of patron saints in the warm,
+soft-toned red sandstone of the country; fishermen's taverns, with most
+of the business done outside under the trees or vine-covered piazza;
+little, busy wharfs and works, aping joyfully the bustle of large
+seaports, and succeeding in miniature; and perhaps a burgomaster's
+garden, where that portly and pleasant functionary does not disdain to
+keep a tavern and serve his customers himself, as at Walluf.
+
+[Illustration: JUDENGASSE AT FRANKFORT.]
+
+At Rauenthal (a "valley" placed on high hills) we find the last new
+claimant to the supremacy among Rhine wines, at least since the Paris
+Exhibition, when the medal of honor was awarded to Rauenthal, which has
+ended in bringing many hundreds of curious connoisseurs to test the
+merits of the grape where it grows. Now comes a whole host of villages
+on either side of the river, famous through their wines--Steinberg, the
+"golden beaker;" Scharfenstein, whose namesake castle was the refuge of
+the warlike archbishops of Mayence, the stumbling-block of the
+archbishops of Tr�ves, called "the Lion of Luxembourg," and lastly the
+prey of the terrible Swedes, who in German stories play the part of
+Cossacks and Bashi-Bazouks; Marcobrunnen, with its classical-looking
+ruin of a fountain hidden among vineyards; Hattenheim, Hallgarten,
+Gr�fenberg; and Eberbach, formerly an abbey, known for its "cabinet"
+wine, the hall-mark of those times, and its legends of Saint Bernard,
+for whom a boar ploughed a circle with his tusks to show the spot where
+the saint should build a monastery, and afterward tossed great stones
+thither for the foundation, while angels helped to build the upper
+walls. Eberbach is rather deserted than ruined. It was a good deal
+shattered in the Peasants' War at the time of the Reformation, when the
+insurgents emptied the huge cask in which the whole of the Steinberg
+wine-harvest was stored; but since 1803, when it was made over to the
+neighboring wine-growers, it has remained pretty well unharmed; and its
+twelfth-century chapel, full of monuments; its refectory, now the
+press-house, with its columns and capitals nearly perfect; its cellars,
+where every year more wine is given away than is stored--_i. e._, all
+that which is not "cabinet-worthy"--as in the tulip-mania, when
+thousands of roots were thrown away as worthless, which yet had all the
+natural merit of lovely coloring and form,--make Eberbach well worth
+seeing.
+
+Next comes Johannisberg, with its vineyards dating back to the tenth
+century, when Abbot Rabanus of Fulda cultivated the grape and Archbishop
+Ruthard of Mayence built a monastery, dedicated to Saint John the
+Baptist, which for centuries was owner and guardian of the most noted
+Rhine vintage; but abuses within and wars without have made an end of
+this state of things, and Albert of Brandenburg's raid on the monks'
+cellars has been more steadily supplemented by the pressure of milder
+but no less efficient means of destruction. When Napoleon saw this tract
+of land and offered it to General Kellermann, who had admired its
+beauty, he is said to have received a worthy and a bold answer. "I thank
+Your Majesty," said the marshal, "but the receiver is as bad as the
+thief." The less scrupulous Metternich became its owner, giving for it,
+however, an equivalent of arable and wood land. The Metternich who for
+years was Austrian ambassador at Paris during the brilliant time of the
+Second Empire, and whose fast and eccentric wife daily astonished
+society, is now owner of the peerless Johannisberg vineyards, among
+which is his country-house. Goethe's friends, the Lade and Brentano
+families, lived in this neighborhood, and the historian Nicholas Vogt
+lies buried in the Metternich chapel, though his heart, by his special
+desire, is laid in a silver casket within the rocks of Bingen, with a
+little iron cross marking the spot. At Geisenheim we are near two
+convents which as early as 1468 had printing-presses in active use, and
+the mysterious square tower of R�desheim, which brings all sorts of
+suppositions to our mind, though the beauty of the wayside crosses, the
+tall gabled roofs, the crumbling walls, the fantastically-shaped rocks,
+getting higher and higher on each side, and the perpetual winding of the
+river, are enough to keep the eye fixed on the mere landscape. At the
+windows, balconies and arbors sit pretty, ruddy girls waving their
+handkerchiefs to the unknown "men and brethren" on board the steamers
+and the trains; and well they may, if this be a good omen, for here is
+the "Iron Gate" of the Rhine, and the water bubbles and froths in
+miniature whirlpools as we near what is called the "Bingen Hole."
+
+As we have passed the mouth of the Stein and recollected the rhyme of
+Schr�dter in his _King Wine's Triumph_--
+
+[Illustration: R�DESHEIM.]
+
+    Wreath�d in vines and crown�d with reeds comes the Rhine,
+    And at his side with merry dance comes the Main,
+    While the third with his steady steps is all of stone (Stein),
+    And both Main and Stein are prime ministers to the Lord Rhine--
+
+so now we peer up one of the clefts in the rocks and see the Nahe
+ploughing its way along to meet the great river. Just commanding the
+mouth is Klopp Castle, and not far warlike Bingen, a rich burgher-city,
+plundered and half destroyed in every war from those of the fourteenth
+to those of the eighteenth century, while Klopp too claims to have been
+battered and bruised even in the thirteenth century, but is better known
+as the scene of the emperor Henry IV.'s betrayal to the Church
+authorities by his son, who treacherously invited him to visit him here
+by night. A little way up the river Nahe, where the character of the
+people changes from the lightheartedness of the Rhine proper to a
+steadiness and earnestness somewhat in keeping with the sterner and more
+mountainous aspect of the country, is Kreuznach, (or "Crossnear"), now a
+bathing-resort, and once a village founded by the first Christian
+missionaries round the first cross under whose shadow they preached the
+gospel. Sponheim Castle, once the abode of Trithemius, or Abbot John of
+Trittenheim, a famous chronicler and scholar, reminds us of the brave
+butcher of Kreuznach, Michael Mort, whose faithfulness to his lawful
+lord when beset by pretenders to his title in his own family won for the
+guild of butchers certain privileges which they have retained ever
+since; and Rheingrafenstein, where the ruins are hardly distinguishable
+from the tossed masses of porphyry rock on which they are perched, tells
+us the story of Boos von Waldeck's wager with the lord of the castle to
+drink a courier's top-boot full of Rhine wine at one draught--a feat
+which he is said to have successfully accomplished, making himself
+surely a fit companion for Odin in Walhalla; but his reward on earth was
+more substantial, for he won thereby the village of H�ffelsheim and all
+its belongings. In a less romantic situation stands Ebernburg, so called
+from the boar which during a siege the hungry but indomitable defenders
+of the castle paraded again and again before the eyes of the besiegers,
+whose only hope lay in starving out the garrison--the property of the
+Sickengens, whose ancestor Franz played a prominent part in the
+Reformation and gave an asylum in these very halls to Bucer,
+Melanchthon, Oecolampadius and Ulrich von H�tten. Past Rothenfels,
+where towering rocks hem in the stream, like the Wye banks in Arthur's
+country on the Welsh borders; the scattered stones of Disibodenberg, the
+Irish missionary's namesake convent, which afterward passed into the
+hands of the Cistercians; Dhaum Castle and Oberstein Church, these two
+with their legends, the first accounting for a bas-relief in the great
+hall representing an ape rocking a child, the heir of the house, in the
+depths of a forest, and giving him an apple to eat,--we come to a
+cluster of castles which are the classical ground of the Nahe Valley.
+The very rocks seem not only crowned but honeycombed with buildings:
+chapels stand on jutting crags; houses, heaped as it were one on the
+roof of the other, climb up their rough sides, and the roofs themselves
+have taken their cue from the rocks, and have three or four irregular
+lines of tiny windows ridging and bulging them out.
+
+Taking boat again at Bingen, and getting safely through the Rhine "Hell
+Gate," the "Hole," whose terrors seem as poetic as those of the Lorelei,
+we pass the famous Mouse Tower, and opposite it the ruined Ehrenfels;
+Assmanshausen, with its dark-colored wine and its custom of a May or
+Pentecost feast, when thousands of merry Rhinelanders spend the day in
+the woods, dancing, drinking and singing, baskets outspread in modified
+and dainty pic-nic fashion, torches lit at night and bands playing or
+mighty choruses resounding through the woods; St. Clement's Chapel, just
+curtained from the river by a grove of old poplars and overshadowed by a
+ruin with a hundred eyes (or windows), while among the thickly-planted,
+crooked crosses of its churchyard old peasant-women and children run or
+totter, the first telling their beads, the second gathering flowers,
+and none perhaps remembering that the chapel was built by the survivors
+of the families of the robber-knights of Rheinstein (one of the
+loveliest of Rhine ruins) and three other confederated castles, whom
+Rudolph of Habsburg treated, rightly enough, according to the Lynch law
+of his time. They were hung wherever found, but their pious relations
+did not forget to bury them and atone for them as seemingly as might be.
+
+[Illustration: BINGEN, FROM KLOPP CASTLE.]
+
+Bacharach, if it were not famed in Germany for its wine, according to
+the old rhyme declaring that
+
+    At W�rzburg on the Stein,
+    At Hochheim on the Main,
+    At Bacharach on the Rhine.
+    There grows the best of wine,
+
+would or ought to be noticed for its wealth of old houses and its many
+architectural beauties, from the ruined (or rather unfinished) chapel of
+St. Werner, now a wine-press house, bowered in trees and surrounded by a
+later growth of crosses and tombstones, to the meanest little house
+crowding its neighbor that it may bathe its doorstep in the
+river--houses that when their owners built and patched them from
+generation to generation little dreamt that they would stand and draw
+the artist's eye when the castle was in ruins. Similarly, the many
+serious historical incidents that took place in Bacharach have lived
+less long in the memory of inhabitants and visitors than the love-story
+connected with the ruined castle--that of Agnes, the daughter of the
+count of this place and niece of the great Barbarossa, whom her father
+shut up here with her mother to be out of the way of her lover, Henry of
+Braunschweig. The latter, a Guelph (while the count was a Ghibelline),
+managed, however, to defeat the father's plans: the mother helped the
+lovers, and a priest was smuggled into the castle to perform the
+marriage, which the father, after a useless outburst of rage, wisely
+acknowledged as valid. The coloring of many buildings in this part of
+the Rhineland is very beautiful, the red sandstone of the neighborhood
+being one of the most picturesque of building materials. Statues and
+crosses, as well as churches and castles, are built of it, and even the
+rocks have so appealed by their formation to the imagination of the
+people that at Sch�nburg we meet with a legend of seven sisters,
+daughters of that family whose hero, Marshal Schomburg, the friend and
+right hand of William of Orange, lies buried in Westminster Abbey,
+honored as marshal of France, peer of Great Britain and grandee of
+Portugal, and who, for their haughtiness toward their lovers, were
+turned into seven rocks, through part of which now runs the irreverent
+steam-engine, ploughing through the tunnel that cuts off a corner where
+the river bends again.
+
+Now comes the gray rock where, as all the world knows, the Lorelei
+lives, but as that graceful myth is familiar to all, we will hurry past
+the mermaid's home, where so much salmon used to be caught that the very
+servants of the neighboring monastery of St. Goar were forbidden to eat
+salmon more than three times a week, to go and take a glimpse of St.
+Goarshausen, with its convent founded in the seventh century by one of
+the first Celtic missionaries, and its legend of the spider who remedied
+the carelessness of the brother cellarer when he left the bung out of
+Charlemagne's great wine-cask by quickly spinning across the opening a
+web thick enough to stop the flow of wine. A curious relic of olden time
+and humor is shown in the cellar--an iron collar, grim-looking, but more
+innocent than its looks, for it was used only to pin the unwary visitor
+to the wall while a choice between a "baptism" of water and wine was
+given him. The custom dates back to Charlemagne's time. Those who,
+thinking to choose the least evil of the two, gave their voice for the
+water, had an ample and unexpected shower-bath, while the wine-drinkers
+were crowned with some tinseled wreath and given a large tankard to
+empty. On the heights above the convent stood the "Cat" watching the
+"Mouse" on the opposite bank above Wellmich, the two names commemorating
+an insolent message sent by Count John III. of the castle of
+Neu-Katzellenbogen to Archbishop Kuno of Falkenstein, the builder of the
+castle of Thurnberg, "that he greeted him and hoped he would take good
+care of his mouse, that his (John's) cat might not eat it up." And now
+we pass a chain of castles, ruins and villages; rocks with such names as
+the Prince's Head; lead, copper and silver works, with all the activity
+of modern life, stuck on like a puppet-show to the background of a
+solemn old picture, a rocky, solitary island, "The Two Brothers," the
+twin castles of Liebenstein and Sternberg, the same which Bulwer has
+immortalized in his _Pilgrims of the Rhine_, and at their feet, close to
+the shore, a modern-looking building, the former Redemptorist convent of
+Bornhofen. As we step out there is a rude quay, four large old trees and
+a wall with a pinnacled niche, and then we meet a boatful of pilgrims
+with their banners, for this is one of the shrines that are still
+frequented, notwithstanding many difficulties--notwithstanding that the
+priests were driven out of the convent some time ago, and that the place
+is in lay hands; not, however, unfriendly hands, for a Catholic German
+nobleman, married to a Scotch woman, bought the house and church, and
+endeavored, as under the shield of "private property," to preserve it
+for the use of the Catholic population of the neighborhood. Last summer
+an English Catholic family rented the house, and a comfortable home was
+established in the large, bare building attached to the church, where is
+still kept the _Gnadenbild_, or "Grace image," which is the object of
+the pilgrimage--a figure of the Blessed Virgin holding her dead Son upon
+her knees. These English tenants brought a private chaplain with them,
+but, despite their privileges as English subjects, I believe there was
+some trouble with the government authorities. However, they had mass
+said for them at first in the church on weekdays. A priest from Camp,
+the neighboring post-town, was allowed to come once in a week to say
+mass for the people, but with locked doors, and on other days the
+service was also held in the same way, though a few of the
+country-people always managed to get in quietly before the doors were
+shut. On Sundays mass was said for the strangers and their household
+only in a little oratory up in the attics, which had a window looking
+into the church near the roof of the chancel. One of them describes "our
+drawing-room in the corner of the top floor, overlooking the river," and
+"our life ... studying German, reading and writing in the morning, dining
+early, walking out in the evening, tea-supper when we come home....
+There are such pretty walks in the ravines and hills, in woods and
+vineyards, and to the castles above and higher hills beyond! We brought
+one man and a maid, who do not know German, and found two German
+servants in the house, who do everything.... It is curious how cheaply
+we live here; the German cook left here does everything for us, and we
+are saying she makes us much better soups and omelettes and souffles
+than any London cook." Now, as these three things happen to be special
+tests of a cook's skill, this praise from an Englishman should somewhat
+rebuke travelers who can find no word too vile for "German cookery."
+
+[Illustration: RHEINGRAFENSTEIN.]
+
+The time of the yearly pilgrimage came round during the stay of these
+strangers, "and pilgrims came from Coblenz, a four hours' walk (in
+mid-August and the temperature constantly in the nineties), on the
+opposite side of the river, singing and chanting as they came, and
+crossed the river here in boats. High mass was at half-past nine (in the
+morning) and benediction at half-past one, immediately after which they
+returned in boats down the stream much more quickly. The day before was
+a more local pilgrimage: mass and benediction were at eight, but
+pilgrims came about all the morning." Later on, when the great heat had
+brought "premature autumn tints to the trees and burnt up the grass,"
+the English family made some excursions in the neighborhood, and in one
+place they came to a "forest and a large tract of tall trees," but this
+was exceptional, as the soil is not deep enough to grow large timber,
+and the woods are chiefly low underwood. The grapes were small, and on
+the 22d of August they tasted the first plateful at Stolzenfels, an old
+castle restored by the queen-dowager of Prussia, and now the property of
+the empress of Germany. "The view from it is lovely up and down the
+river, and the situation splendid--about four hundred feet above the
+river, with high wooded hills behind, just opposite the Lahn where it
+falls into the Rhine." Wolfgang M�ller describes Stolzenfels as a
+beautiful specimen of the old German style, with a broad smooth road
+leading up over drawbridges and moats, with mullioned windows and
+machicolated towers, and an artistic open staircase intersected by three
+pointed arches, and looking into an inner courtyard, with a fountain
+surrounded by broad-leaved tropical water-plants. The sight of a
+combination of antique dignity with correct modern taste is a delight so
+seldom experienced that it is worth while dwelling on this pleasant fact
+as brought out in the restoration of Stolzenfels, the "Proud Rock." And
+that the Rhinelanders are proud of their river is no wonder when
+strangers can talk about it thus: "The Rhine is a river which grows
+upon you, living in a pretty part of its course:... its less beauteous
+parts have their own attractions to the natives, and its beauties,
+perhaps exaggerated, unfold greatly the more you explore them, not to be
+seen by a rushing tourist up and down the stream by rail or by boat, but
+sought out and contemplated from its heights and windings.... In fact,
+the pretty part of its course is from Bingen to Bonn. Here we are in a
+wonderfully winding gorge, containing nearly all its picturesque old
+castles, uninterrupted by any flat. The stream is rapid enough, four
+miles an hour or more--not equal to the Rhone at Geneva, but like that
+river in France. One does not wonder at the Germans being enthusiastic
+over their river, as the Romans were over the yellow Tiber."
+
+[Illustration: MOUSE-TOWER (OR BISHOP HATTO'S TOWER) AND EHRENFELS.]
+
+[Illustration: THE LORELEI ROCK.]
+
+Other excursions were made by the Bornhofen visitors, one up a hill on
+the opposite side, over sixteen hundred feet high, whence a fine distant
+view of the Mosel Valley was seen, and one also to the church of St.
+Apollinaris, at Remagen, at some distance down the river, where are
+"some fine frescoes by German artists covering the whole interior of
+the church. One artist painted four or five large ones of the
+Crucifixion, Resurrection and other events relating to the life of Our
+Lord; a second several of the life of St. Apollinaris, and two others
+some of Our Lady and various saints, one set being patron saints of the
+founder's children, whom I think we saw at Baden--Carl Egon, Count
+F�rstenberg-Stammheim.... The family-house stands close to the church,
+or one of his houses, and seems to have been made into a Franciscan
+convent: the monks are now banished and the church deserted, a _custode_
+(guardian) in charge. We went one day to Limburg to see the bishop of
+this diocese, a dear old man who only speaks German, so E---- and
+C---- carried on all the conversation. The cathedral is a fine old Norman
+building with seven towers: it is undergoing restoration, and the
+remains of old frescoes under the whitewash are the ground-work of
+renewed ones. Where an old bit is perfect enough it is left."
+
+[Illustration: A STREET IN LIMBURG.]
+
+Camp, a mile from Bornhofen, is an insignificant place enough, but
+claiming to have been a Roman camp, and having an old convent as
+picturesque as those of far-famed and much-visited towns. The same
+irregular windows, roofed turrets springing up by the side of tall
+gables, a corner-shrine of Our Lady and Child, with vines and ivy making
+a niche for it, mossy steps, a broken wall with trailing vines and steep
+stone-roofed recess, probably an old niche,--such is a sketch of what
+would make a thoroughly good picture; but in this land there are so many
+such that one grows too familiar with them to care for the sight. Nearly
+opposite is Boppard, a busy ancient town, with a parish church beautiful
+enough for a cathedral--St. Severin's church, with carved choir-stalls
+and a double nave--and the old Benedictine monastery for women, now a
+cold-water cure establishment. Boppard has its legend of a shadowy
+Templar and a faithless bridegroom challenged by the former, who turned
+out to be the forsaken bride herself; but of these legends, one so like
+the other, this part of the Rhine is full. The next winding of the
+stream shows us Oberspay, with a romantic tavern, carved pillars
+supporting a windowed porch, and a sprawling kind of roof; the "King's
+Stool," a modern restoration of the medi�val pulpit or platform of stone
+supported by pillars, with eighteen steps and a circumference of forty
+ells, where the Rhenish prince-archbishops met to choose the temporal
+sovereigns who were in part their vassals; Oberlahnstein, a town famous
+for its possession in perfect repair of the ancient fortifications;
+Lahneck, now a private residence, once the property of the Templars;
+Stolzenfels, of which we have anticipated a glimpse; the island of
+Oberw�rth, with an old convent of St. Magdalen, and in the distance
+frowning Ehrenbreitstein, the fortress of Coblenz.
+
+Turning up the course of the Lahn, we get to the neighborhood of a small
+but famous bathing-place, Ems, the cradle of the Franco-Prussian war,
+where the house in which Emperor William lodged is now shown as an
+historic memento, and effaces the interest due to the old gambling
+Kursaal. The English chapel, a beautiful small stone building already
+ivied; the old synagogue, a plain whitewashed building, where the
+service is conducted in an orthodox but not very attractive manner; the
+pretty fern- and heather-covered woods, through which you ride on
+donkeyback; the gardens, where a Parisian-dressed crowd airs itself late
+in the afternoon; all the well-known adjuncts of a spa, and the most
+delightful baths I ever saw, where in clean little chambers you step
+down three steps into an ample marble basin sunk in the floor, and may
+almost fancy yourself a luxurious Roman of the days of Diocletian,--such
+is Ems. But its environs are full of wider interest. There is Castle
+Schaumburg, where for twenty years the archduke Stephen of Austria,
+palatine of Hungary, led a useful and retired life, making his house as
+orderly and seemly as an English manor-house, and more interesting to
+the strangers, whose visits he encouraged, by the collections of
+minerals, plants, shells and stuffed animals and the miniature
+zoological and botanical gardens which he kept up and often added to. I
+spent a day there thirteen years ago, ten years before he died, lamented
+by his poor neighbors, to whom he was a visible providence. Another
+house of great interest is the old Stein mansion in the little town of
+Nassau, the home of the upright and patriotic minister of that name,
+whose memory is a household word in Germany. The present house is a
+comfortable modern one--a _ch�teau_ in the French sense of the word--but
+the old shattered tower above the town is the cradle of the family. At
+the village of Fr�cht is the family-vault and the great man's monument,
+a modern Gothic canopy, somewhat bald and characterless, but bearing a
+fine statue of Stein by Schwanthaler, and an inscription in praise of
+the "unbending son of bowed-down Fatherland." He came of a good stock,
+for thus runs his father's funeral inscription, in five alliterative
+German rhymes. I can give it but lamely:
+
+    His nay was nay, and steady,
+    His yea was yea, and ready:
+    Of his promise ever mindful,
+    His lips his conscience ne'er belied,
+    And his word was bond and seal.
+
+Stein was born in the house where he retired to spend his last years in
+study: his grave and pious nature is shown in the mottoes with which he
+adorned his home: "A tower of strength is our God" over the house-door,
+and in his library, above his books and busts and gathering of
+life-memorials, "Confidence in God, singleness of mind and
+righteousness." His contemporaries called him, in a play upon his name
+which, as such things go, was not bad, "The foundation-_stone_ of right,
+the stumbling-_stone_ of the wicked, and the precious _stone_ of
+Germany." Arnstein and its old convent, now occupied by a solitary
+priest: Balduinenstein and its rough-hewn, cyclopean-looking ruin,
+standing over the mossy picturesque water-mill; the marble-quarries near
+Schaumburg, worked by convicts; Diez and its conglomeration of houses
+like a puzzle endowed with life,--are all on the way to Limburg, the
+episcopal town, old and tortuous, sleepy and alluring, with its shady
+streets, its cathedral of St. George and its monument of the
+lion-hearted Conrad or Kuno, surnamed Shortbold (Kurzbold), a nephew of
+Emperor Conrad, a genuine woman-hater, a man of giant strength but
+dwarfish height, who is said to have once strangled a lion, and at
+another time sunk a boatful of men with one blow of his spear. The
+cathedral, the same visited by our Bornhofen friends, has other
+treasures--carved stalls and a magnificent image of Our Lord of the
+sixteenth century, a Gothic baptismal font and a richly-sculptured
+tabernacle, as well as a much older image of _St. George and the
+Dragon_, supposed by some to refer to the legendary existence of
+monsters in the days when Limburg was heathen. Some such idea seems also
+not to have been remote from the fancy of the medi�val sculptor who
+adorned the brave Conrad's monument with such elaborately monstrous
+figures: it was evidently no lack of skill and delicacy that dictated
+such a choice of supporters, for the figure of the hero is lifelike,
+dignified and faithful to the minute description of his features and
+stature left us by his chronicler, while the beauty of the leaf-border
+of the slab and of the capitals of the short pillars is such as to
+excite the envy of our best modern carvers.
+
+[Illustration: CONRAD'S MONUMENT, LIMBURG CATHEDRAL.]
+
+                              LADY BLANCHE MURPHY.
+
+
+
+
+EDINBURGH JOTTINGS.
+
+
+Whenever Scott's landau went up the Canongate, his coachman knew without
+special instructions that the pace must be a walk; and no funeral, says
+Lockhart, ever moved more slowly, for wherever the great enthusiast
+might turn his gaze there was recalled to his mind some tradition of
+blood and mystery at which his eye would sparkle and his cheek glow. How
+by the force of his genius he inoculated the world with his enthusiasm
+about the semi-savage Scotia of the past is a well-known story:
+thousands of tourists, more or less struck with the Scott madness,
+yearly wander through the streets of old Edinburgh; and although within
+the quarter of a century since Sir Walter's death many memorials of the
+past have been swept away under the pressure of utility or necessity,
+the Old Town still poses remarkably well, and, gathering her rags and
+tatters about her, contrives to keep up a strikingly picturesque
+appearance.
+
+[Illustration: THE CASTLE AND ALLAN RAMSAY'S HOUSE.]
+
+The Old Town of Edinburgh is built upon a wedge-shaped hill, the Castle
+occupying the highest point, the head of the wedge, and the town
+extending along the crest, which slopes gradually down toward the east,
+to Holyrood Palace in the plain. Lawnmarket, High street and Canongate
+now form one continuous street, which, running along the crest of the
+hill, may be considered as the backbone of the town, with wynds and
+closes radiating on each side like the spines of the vertebr�. The
+closes are courts, culs-de-sac--the wynds, thoroughfares. These
+streets--courts where, in the past, lived the nobility and gentry of
+Edinburgh--are now, for the most part, given up to squalor and misery,
+and look like stage-scenes perpetually "set" for melodramatic horrors.
+The late Dr. Thomas Guthrie, whose parish included a large portion of
+this Egypt, used often to illustrate his eloquence with graphic
+word-pictures suggested by his experiences in these dark places. "The
+unfurnished floor," he writes, "the begrimed and naked walls, the
+stifling, sickening atmosphere, the patched and dusty window--through
+which a sunbeam, like hope, is faintly stealing--the ragged,
+hunger-bitten and sad-faced children, the ruffian man, the heap of straw
+where some wretched mother in muttering dreams sleeps off last night's
+debauch or lies unshrouded and uncoffined in the ghastliness of a
+hopeless death, are sad scenes. We have often looked on them, and they
+appear all the sadder for the restless play of fancy excited by some
+vestiges of a fresco-painting that still looks out from the foul and
+broken plaster, the massive marble rising over the cold and cracked
+hearthstone, an elaborately-carved cornice too high for shivering cold
+to pull it down for fuel, some stucco flowers or fruit yet pendent on
+the crumbling ceiling. Fancy, kindled by these, calls up the gay scenes
+and actors of other days, when beauty, elegance and fashion graced these
+lonely halls, and plenty smoked on groaning tables, and where these few
+cinders, gathered from the city dustheap, are feebly smouldering,
+hospitable fires roared up the chimney."
+
+[Illustration: OLD EDINBURGH BY NIGHT.]
+
+These houses are built upon the "flat" system, some of the better ones
+having a court in the centre like French houses, and turrets at the
+corners for the circular staircases connecting the different flats.
+Fires and improvements are rapidly sweeping them away, and the traveler
+regrets or not their disappearance, according as his views may be
+sentimental or sanitarian. They are truly ill adapted to modern ideas of
+hygiene, or to those cunning modern devices which sometimes poison their
+very inventors. While we may smile at our ancestors' free and easy way
+of pitching things out of the window, we should at least remember that
+they knew nothing of the modern plague of sewer-gas stealing its
+insidious way into the apparently best-regulated households. But without
+entering upon the vexed question of hygiene, the fact is that where
+there is no reason for propping up a tottering roof except that it once
+sheltered some bloody, cattle-stealing chieftain of the Border,
+utilitarian sentiments carry the day; nor ought any enthusiast to deny
+that the heart-shaped figure on the High street pavement, marking the
+spot where the Heart of Mid Lothian once stood, is a more cheerful sight
+than would be presented by the foul walls of that romantic jail.
+
+[Illustration: RIDDLE'S CLOSE, WHERE HUME COMMENCED HIS "HISTORY OF
+ENGLAND."]
+
+The modes of life in old Edinburgh have been amply illustrated by many
+writers. Among the novel-writers, Scott and Miss Ferrier have especially
+dwelt upon them. The tavern-haunting habits of the gentlemen are
+pleasantly depicted in the "high jinks" in _Guy Mannering_, and the
+depth of potations may be estimated by Burns's "Song of the Whistle." As
+to the ladies, we should not have found their assemblies very hilarious,
+where partners for the dance were obtained by drawing tickets, and the
+lucky or unlucky swain danced one solemn minuet with his lady, and was
+not expected to quit her side during the evening--
+
+    Through a long night to watch fair Delia's will,
+    The same dull swain was at her elbow still.
+
+The huge stack of buildings called James's Court is associated with the
+names of Boswell and of Hume. Half of it has been destroyed by fire,
+and precisely that half in which these two worthies once dwelt, but
+there is quite enough of it left to show what a grim monster it was,
+and, for that matter, still is. In Boswell's time it was a fine thing to
+have a flat in James's Court. Here Boswell was living when Dr. Johnson
+came to visit him. Boswell, having received a note from Johnson
+announcing his arrival, hastened to the inn, where he found the great
+man had just thrown his lemonade out of the window, and had nearly
+knocked down the waiter for sweetening the said lemonade without the aid
+of the sugar-tongs.
+
+"Mr. Johnson and I walked arm-in-arm up the High street," says Boswell,
+"to my house in James's Court: it was a dusky night: I could not prevent
+his being assailed by the evening effluvia of Edinburgh. As we marched
+slowly along he grumbled in my ear, 'I smell you in the dark.'"
+
+Mrs. Boswell had never seen Johnson before, and was by no means charmed
+with him, as Johnson was not slow to discover. In a matrimonial aside
+she whispered to her husband, "I have seen many a bear led by a man, but
+I never before saw a man led by a bear." No doubt her provocations were
+great, and she wins the compassionate sympathy of all good housekeepers
+when they read of Ursa Major brightening up the candles by turning the
+melted wax out on the carpet.
+
+Many years after this, but while Boswell was still living in James's
+Court, a lad named Francis Jeffrey one night helped to carry the great
+biographer home--a circumstance in the life of a gentleman much more of
+an every-day or every-night affair at that time than at present. The
+next day Boswell patted the lad on the head, and kindly added, "If you
+go on as you have begun, you may live to be a Bozzy yourself yet."
+
+The stranger who enters what is apparently the ground-floor of one of
+these houses on the north side of High street is often surprised to find
+himself, without having gone up stairs, looking from a fourth-story
+window in the rear. This is due to the steep slope on which the houses
+stand, and gives them the command of a beautiful view, including the New
+Town, and extending across the Firth of Forth to the varied shores of
+Fife. From his flat in James's Court we find David Hume, after his
+return from France, writing to Adam Smith, then busy at Kirkcaldy about
+the _Wealth of Nations_, "I am glad to have come within sight of you,
+and to have a view of Kirkcaldy from my windows."
+
+Another feature of these houses is the little cells designed for
+oratories or praying-closets, to which the master of the house was
+supposed to retire for his devotions, in literal accordance with the
+gospel injunction. David Hume's flat had two of these, for the spiritual
+was relatively better cared for than the temporal in those days: plenty
+of praying-closets, but _no drains_! This difficulty was got over by
+making it lawful for householders, after ten o'clock at night, to throw
+superfluous material out of the window--a cheerful outlook for Boswell
+and others being "carried home"!
+
+[Illustration: BUCCLEUGH PLACE, WHERE THE "EDINBURGH REVIEW" WAS
+PROJECTED.]
+
+[Illustration: COLLEGE WYND, WHERE SCOTT WAS BORN.]
+
+At the bottom of Byre's Close a house is pointed out where Oliver
+Cromwell stayed, and had the advantage of contemplating from its lofty
+roof the fleet which awaited his orders in the Forth. The same house was
+once occupied by Bothwell, bishop of Orkney, and is associated with the
+memory of Anne, the bishop's daughter, whose sorrows are enbalmed in
+plaintive beauty in the old cradle-song:
+
+    Baloo,[A] my boy, lie still and sleep,
+    It grieves me sair to see thee weep:
+    If thou'lt be silent, I'll be glad;
+    Thy mourning makes my heart full sad.
+    Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy,
+    Thy father bred me great annoy.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Baloo, my boy, weep not for me,
+    Whose greatest grief's for wranging thee,
+    Nor pity her deserv�d smart,
+    Who can blame none but her fond heart;
+    For too soon trusting latest finds
+    With fairest tongues are falsest minds.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    When he began to court my love,
+    And with his sugared words to move,
+    His tempting face and flutt'ring cheer
+    In time to me did not appear;
+    But now I see that cruel he
+    Cares neither for his babe nor me.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Baloo, my boy, thy father's fled,
+    When he the thriftless son has played:
+    Of vows and oaths forgetful, he
+    Preferred the wars to thee and me;
+    But now perhaps thy curse and mine
+    Makes him eat acorns with the swine.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Nay, curse not him: perhaps now he,
+    Stung with remorse, is blessing thee;
+    Perhaps at death, for who can tell
+    But the great Judge of heaven and hell,
+    By some proud foe has struck the blow,
+    And laid the dear deceiver[B] low.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    I wish I were into the bounds
+    Where he lies smother'd in his wounds,
+    Repeating, as he pants for air,
+    My name, whom once he call'd his fair.
+    No woman's yet so fiercely set
+    But she'll forgive, though not forget.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+[Illustration: ANCHOR CLOSE.]
+
+The tourist finds much to read, as he runs through old Edinburgh, in the
+mottoes on the house-fronts. These are mostly of a scriptural and devout
+character, such as: "Blissit.Be.God.In.Al.His.Giftis;" or,
+"Blissit.Be.The.Lord.In.His.Giftis.For.Nov.And.Ever." If he peeps into
+Anchor Close, where once was a famous tavern, he will find it entirely
+occupied by the buildings of the _Scotsman_ newspaper, but the
+mottoes have been carefully preserved and built into the walls.
+The first is, "The.Lord. Is.Only.My.Svport;" a little farther
+on, "O.Lord.In.The.Is.Al.My.Traist;" and over the door,
+"Lord.Be.Merciful.To.Me." On other houses he may read,
+"Feare.The.Lord.And.Depart.From.Evill;" "Faith.In.Chryst.Onlie.Savit;"
+"My.Hoip.Is.Chryst;" "What.Ever.Me.Befall.I.Thank.The.Lord.Of.All."
+There are also many in the Latin tongue, such as, "Lavs Vbique Deo;"
+"Nisi Dominvs Frvstra" (the City motto);
+
+    "Pax Intrantibvs,
+    Salvs Exevntibvs."
+
+Here is one in the vernacular:
+"Gif.Ve.Died.As.Ve.Sovld.Ve.Mycht.Haif.As.Ve.Vald;" which is translated,
+"If we did as we should, we might have as we would."
+
+[Illustration: JOHN KNOX'S STUDY.]
+
+Near the end of the High street, on the way to the Canongate, stands
+John Knox's house, which has been put in order and made a show-place.
+The exterior, from its exceedingly picturesque character, is more
+attractive than the interior. The house had originally belonged to the
+abbot of Dunfermline, and when taken by Knox a very snug little study
+was added, built of wood and projecting from the front, in accordance
+with an order from the magistrates, directing "with al diligence to make
+ane warm studye of dailles to the minister John Knox, within his
+hous, aboue the hall of the same, with light and wyndokis
+thereunto, and al uther necessaris." The motto of this house is
+"Lvfe.God.Abvfe.Al.And.Yi.Nychtbovr.As.Yi.Self." A curious image at one
+corner was long thought to represent Knox preaching, and probably still
+does so in the popular belief; but others now think it represents Moses.
+It is an old man kneeling, with one hand resting on a tablet, and with
+the other pointing up to a stone above him carved to resemble the sun,
+and having on its disk the name of the Deity in three languages:
+"[Greek: THEOS].Deus.God."
+
+Of the style of Knox's preaching, even when he was enfeebled by
+ill-health, one gets a good idea from the following passage in James
+Melville's diary: "And by the said Rickart and an other servant, lifted
+up to the pulpit whar he behovit to lean, at his first entrie; bot or he
+had done with his sermon, he was sa active and vigorous, that he was lyk
+to ding that pulpit in blads and flie out of it."
+
+[Illustration: ROOM IN WHICH KNOX DIED.]
+
+Passing on down Canongate, once the court suburb, we come to Moray
+House, the former residence of the earls of Moray, and at one time
+occupied by Cromwell. It is now used for a school, and is in much better
+preservation than many of its neighbors. At the very bottom of the
+Canongate, not far from Holyrood House, stands the White Horse Inn. The
+house has not been an inn for many years, but was chosen by Scott as the
+quarters of Captain Waverley: its builders probably thought little of
+beauty when they built it, yet squalor, dilapidation and decay have
+given it the elements of the picturesque, and the fact that Scott has
+mentioned it is sufficient to nerve the tourist to hold his nose and
+admire.
+
+A black, gaunt, forbidding-looking structure near at hand was once the
+residence of the dukes of Queensberry. Charles, the third duke, was born
+in it: it is his duchess, Lady Catherine Hyde, whose pranks are so
+frequently recorded in Horace Walpole's letters--"very clever, very
+whimsical, and just not mad." Their Graces did not often occupy their
+Scottish residences, but in 1729, the lord chamberlain having refused
+his license to Gay's play, _Polly_, a continuation of the _Beggar's
+Opera_, the duke and duchess took Gay's part so warmly as to leave the
+court and retire to Queensberry House, bringing the poet with them.
+
+[Illustration: WHITE HORSE INN.]
+
+The duchess was much sung by the poets of her day, among them Prior, who
+is now so little read that we may recall a few of his once well-known
+verses:
+
+    "Shall I thumb holy books, confined
+      With Abigails forsaken?
+    Kitty's for other things designed,
+      Or I am much mistaken.
+    Must Lady Jenny frisk about,
+      And visit with her cousins?
+    At balls must she make all the rout,
+      And bring home hearts by dozens?
+
+    "What has she better, pray, than I?
+      What hidden charms to boast,
+    That all mankind for her should die,
+      Whilst I am scarce a toast?
+    Dearest mamma, for once let me,
+      Unchained, my fortune try:
+    I'll have my earl as well as she,
+      Or know the reason why.
+
+    "I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score,
+      Make all her lovers fall:
+    They'll grieve I was not loosed before--
+      She, I was loosed at all."
+    Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way:
+      Kitty, at heart's desire,
+    Obtained the chariot for a day,
+      And set the world on fire!
+
+On the death of Duke Charles, Queensberry House came into the possession
+of his cousin, the earl of March, a singular man-about-town in London,
+known as "Old Q.:" he stripped it of all its ornaments, without and
+within, and sold it to the government for a barracks. It is now used as
+a house of refuge. On its gate are the following notices: "White-seam
+sewing neatly executed." "Applications for admission by the destitute
+any lawful day from 10 to 12." "Bread and soup supplied from 1 to 3,
+afternoon. Porridge supplied from 8 to 9, morning, 6 to 7, evening."
+"Night Refuge open at 7 P.M. No admission on Sundays." "No person
+allowed more than three nights' shelter in one month." Such are the
+mottoes that now adorn the house which sheltered Prior's Kitty.
+
+A striking object in the same vicinity is the Canongate Tolbooth, with
+pepper-box turrets and a clock projecting from the front on iron
+brackets, which have taken the place of the original curiously-carved
+oaken beams. Executions sometimes took place in front of this building,
+which led wags to find a grim joke in its motto: "Sic.Itvr.Ad.Astra." A
+more frequent place of execution was the Girth Cross, near the foot of
+the Canongate, which marked the limit of the right of sanctuary
+belonging to the abbey of Holyrood. At the Girth Cross, Lady Warriston
+was executed for the murder of her husband, which has been made the
+subject of many ballads:
+
+    My mother was an ill woman:
+      In fifteen years she married me.
+    I hadna wit to guide a man:
+      Alas! ill counsel guided me.
+
+    O Warriston! O Warriston!
+      I wish that ye may sink fire in:
+    I was but bare fifteen years auld
+      When first I entered your gates within.
+
+    I hadna been a month married,
+      Till my gude lord went to the sea:
+    I bare a bairn ere he came hame,
+      And set it on the nourice knee.
+
+    But it fell ance upon a day
+      That my gude lord return'd from sea:
+    Then I did dress in the best array,
+      As blythe as ony bird on tree.
+
+    I took my young son in my arms,
+      Likewise my nourice me forebye,
+    And I went down to yon shore-side,
+      My gude lord's vessel I might spy.
+
+    My lord he stood upon the deck,
+      I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie:
+    "Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay:
+      Wha'se aught that bairn on your knee?"
+
+    She turn'd her right and roundabout,
+      Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me?
+    Alas! I was too young married
+      To love another man but thee."
+
+    "Now hold your tongue, my lady gay:
+      Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me;
+    This bonny bairn is not mine;
+      You've loved another while I was on sea."
+
+    In discontent then hame she went,
+      And aye the tear did blin' her e'e:
+    Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged
+      For these harsh words he said to me."
+
+    She's counsel'd wi' her father's steward,
+      What way she cou'd revenged be:
+    Bad was the counsel then he gave:
+      It was to gar her gude lord dee.
+
+    The nourice took the deed in hand:
+      I wat she was well paid her fee:
+    She keist the knot, and the loop she ran
+      Which soon did gar this young lord dee.
+
+[Illustration: HOLYROOD AND BURNS'S MONUMENT.]
+
+Another version has:
+
+    The nurice she knet the knot,
+      And oh, she knet it sicker:
+    The ladie did gie it a twig,
+      Till it began to wicker.
+
+The murder was committed on the 2d of July, 1600, and with the speedy
+justice of that time the punishment followed on the 5th. The lady was
+sentenced to be "wooried at the stake and brint," but her relatives had
+influence enough to secure a modification of the sentence, so that she
+was beheaded by the "maiden," a form of guillotine introduced by the
+Regent Morton. The original sentence was executed upon the nurse, who
+had no powerful relatives.
+
+[Illustration: STONE ON WHICH THE COVENANT WAS SIGNED.]
+
+Directly opposite the Canongate Tolbooth is a very antiquated dwelling,
+with three gables to the street, which converses with the passer-by on
+envy and backbiting. It begins: "Hodie.Mihi.Cras.Tibi.Cur.Igitur.Curas"
+("To-day, mine; to-morrow, thine; why then care?"). As if premising an
+unsatisfactory answer, it continues: "Ut Tu Linguae Tuae, Sic Ego Mear.
+Aurium, Dominus Sum." ("As thou of thy tongue, so I of my ears, am
+lord"), and finally takes refuge in "Constanti Pectori Res Mortalium
+Umbra" ("To the steadfast heart the affairs of mortals are but
+shadows").
+
+In the plain at the foot of the Canongate stands Holyrood Abbey and
+Palace, which, with the exception of one wing containing Queen Mary's
+apartments, has been rebuilt within comparatively modern times. The
+abbey church is a crumbling ruin, although a power amid its decay, for
+it possesses still the right of sanctuary. This refuge offered by the
+Church was a softening and humanizing influence when private feuds were
+settled by the sword and the Far-West principle of death at sight
+generally prevailed: later on, it became an abuse, and gradually
+disappeared. The Holyrood sanctuary is the only one now existing in
+Great Britain, but is available for insolvent debtors only: it includes
+the precincts of the palace and the Queen's Park (five miles in
+circumference), but it contains no buildings except in that portion of
+the precincts extending from the palace to the foot of Canongate, about
+one hundred and thirty yards in a direct line. Within this limited
+district the debtor seeks his lodging, has the Queen's Park for his
+recreation, and on Sundays is free to go where he likes, as on that day
+he cannot be molested. It was a curious relic of old customs to read in
+Edinburgh newspapers in the year 1876 the following extract from a
+debtor's letter, in which he makes his terms with the sheriff: "However
+desirous I am to obey the order of the sheriff to attend my examination,
+I am sorry to be obliged to intimate that in consequence of the
+vindictive and oppressive proceedings of some of my creditors I cannot
+present myself in court at the diet fixed unless protection from
+personal diligence be granted. I will have much pleasure, however, in
+attending the court in the event of the sheriff granting a special
+warrant to bring me from the sanctuary, which warrant shall protect me
+against arrest for debt and other civil obligations while under
+examination, and on the way to and from the place of examination." The
+sheriff granted the warrant.
+
+From Holyrood we fancy the traveler next remounting the hill into the
+Old Town, and seeking out the churchyard of Greyfriars, whose
+monuments, full of interest to the student and the antiquary, are in
+themselves an epitome of Scottish history. The church has been ravaged
+by fire and rebuilt, so that it retains but little antiquity: the
+churchyard, on the other hand, has seen few changes except in the
+increase of its monuments as time has passed on.
+
+Here the Solemn League and Covenant was entered into. It was first read
+in the church, and agreed to by all there, and then handed to the crowd
+without, who signed it on the flat tombstones.
+
+Among the most conspicuous monuments in this churchyard are, on the one
+hand, that to those who died for their fidelity to this Covenant, and on
+the other the tomb of Sir George Mackenzie, king's advocate and public
+prosecutor of the Covenanters.
+
+On the Martyrs' Monument, as it is called, one reads: "From May 27th,
+1661, that the most noble marquis of Argyle was beheaded, until Feb.
+18th, 1688, there were executed in Edinburgh about one hundred noblemen,
+gentlemen, ministers and others: the most of them lie here.
+
+    "But as for them no cause was to be found
+    Worthy of death, but only they were sound,
+    Constant, and steadfast, zealous, witnessing
+    For the prerogatives of Christ their King,
+    Which truths were sealed by famous Guthrie's head."
+
+And so on.
+
+Dr. Thomas Guthrie, who, as we have seen, found much inspiration in the
+scenes of his daily walks, sought to trace his origin back to this
+Guthrie of the Martyrs' Monument. "I failed," he wrote, "yet am
+conscious that the idea and probability of this has had a happy
+influence on my public life, in determining me to contend and suffer, if
+need be, for the rights of Christ's crown and the liberties of His
+Church."
+
+The learning and accomplishments of Sir George Mackenzie were forgotten
+amid the religious animosities of his day, and he came down to posterity
+as the terror of nursery-maids and a portentous bugaboo under the name
+of Bloody Mackenzie. It is related that the boys of the town were in the
+habit of gathering at nightfall about his tomb and shouting in at the
+keyhole,
+
+    Bluidy Mackenzie, come out if ye daur:
+    Lift the sneck and draw the bar!
+
+after which they would scatter, as if they feared the tenant might take
+them at their word. The tomb is a handsome circular Roman temple, now
+much dilapidated by weather and soot, and so dark and sombre as to make
+it very uncanny in the gloaming, especially to one approaching it with
+the view of shouting "Bluidy Mackenzie" through the keyhole. This
+popular superstition was once turned to account by a youth under
+sentence of death for burglary. His friends aided him in escaping from
+prison, and provided him with a key to this mausoleum, where he passed
+six weeks in the tomb with the Bluidy Mackenzie--a situation of horror
+made tolerable only as a means of escape from death. Food was brought to
+him at night, and when the heat of pursuit was over he got to a vessel
+and out of the country.
+
+[Illustration: MACKENZIE'S TOMB.]
+
+The New Town of Edinburgh is separated from the Old Town by the ravine
+of the North Loch, over which are thrown the bridges by which the two
+towns are connected. The loch has been drained and is now occupied by
+the Public Gardens and by the railway. The New Town is substantially the
+work of the last half of the past century and the first half of the
+present one--a period which sought everywhere except at home for its
+architectural models. In some of the recent improvements in the Old Town
+very pretty effects have been produced by copying the better features of
+the ancient dwellings all around them, but the grandiloquent ideas of
+the Georgian era could not have been content with anything so simple and
+homespun as this. Its ideal was the cold and pompous, and it succeeded
+in giving to the New-Town streets that distant and repellent air of
+supreme self-satisfaction which makes the houses appear to say to the
+curious looker-on, "Seek no farther, for in us you find the perfectly
+correct thing." The embodiment of this spirit may be seen in the bronze
+statue of George IV. by Chantrey, in George street: the artist has
+caught the pert strut so familiar in the portraits, at sight of which
+one involuntarily exclaims, "Behold the royal swell!"
+
+[Illustration: THE NORTH BRIDGE.]
+
+But the New Town has two superb features, about whose merits all are
+agreed: we need hardly say these are Princes street and the Calton
+Hill. Princes street extends along the brow of the hill over-hanging the
+ravine which separates the two towns, and which is now occupied by
+public gardens: along their grassy slopes the eye wanders over trees and
+flowers to the great rock which o'ertops the greenery, bearing aloft the
+Castle as its crown, while from the Castle the Old Town, clustering
+along the height, streams away like a dark and deeply-colored train. The
+Calton Hill offers to the view a wide-spreading panorama. At our feet
+are the smoking chimneys of Auld Reekie, from which we gladly turn our
+eyes to the blue water and the shores of Fife, or seek out in the shadow
+of Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat the tottering arch of Holyrood
+Abbey. The hill is well dotted over,
+
+    All up and down and here and there,
+    With Lord-knows-what's of round and square;
+
+which on examination prove to be monuments to the great departed. A
+great change has taken place in the prevalent taste since they were
+erected, and they are not now pointed out to the stranger with fond
+pride, as in the past generation. The best one is that to Dugald
+Stewart, an adaptation, the guide-books say, of the Choragic Monument of
+Lysicrates. The all-pervading photograph has made it so familiar that it
+comes upon one as an old friend.
+
+The Burns Monument is a circular edifice with columns and a cupola. It
+has all the outward semblance of a tomb, so that one is rather startled
+to find it tenanted by a canny Scot--a live one--who presides with
+becomingly sepulchral gravity over a twopenny show of miscellaneous
+trumpery connected with Robert Burns. Everywhere in old Edinburgh we
+have seen going on the inevitable struggle between utility and
+sentiment: at Burns's Monument it ceases, and we conclude our ramble at
+this point, where the sentimentalist and the utilitarian shake hands,
+the former deeply sympathizing with the sentiment which led to the
+building of the monument, while the latter fondly admires the ingenuity
+which can turn even a cenotaph to account.
+
+                                    ALFRED S. GIBBS.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] Baloo is a lullaby, supposed to be from the French _Bas, l� le
+loup_--"Lie still, the wolf is coming."
+
+[B] The "dear deceiver" was said to have been her cousin, the Hon.
+Alexander Erskine, brother to the earl of Mar. He came to a violent
+death, although not in the manner suggested in the ballad. While
+stationed at Dunglass Castle, engaged in collecting levies for the army
+of the Covenanters, an angry page thrust a red-hot poker into the
+powder-magazine, and blew him up with a number of others, so that there
+was "never bone nor hyre seen of them again."
+
+
+
+
+A LAW UNTO HERSELF.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+On a raw, cloudy afternoon in early spring a few years ago a
+family-carriage was driven slowly down a lonely road in one of the
+outlying suburbs of Philadelphia, stopping at last in front of an
+apparently vacant house. This house was built of gray stone, and stood
+back from the road, surrounded by a few sombre pines and much rank
+shrubbery: shrubbery and trees, and the house itself, had long been
+abandoned to decay.
+
+"Heah am de place, sah," said the footman, opening the carriage-door.
+
+An old gentleman in shabby clothes, embellished dramatically by a red
+necktie, an empty sleeve pinned to his breast, sprang out briskly; a
+lady followed, and stood beside him: then a younger man, his head
+muffled in a close fur cap, a yellow shawl wrapped about his neck,
+looked feebly out of the window. His face, which a pair of pale,
+unkindled eyes had never lighted since he was born, had been incomplete
+of meaning in his best days, and long illness had only emphasized its
+weakness. He half rose, sat down again, stared uncertainly at the house,
+yawned nervously, quite indifferent to the fact that the lady stood
+waiting his pleasure. His money and his bodily sufferings--for he was
+weighted heavily with both--were quite enough, in his view, to give him
+the right to engross the common air and the service of other men and
+women. Indeed, a certain indomitable conceit thrust itself into view in
+his snub nose and retreating chin, which made it highly probable that if
+he had been a stout day-laborer in the road yonder, he would have been
+just as complacent as now, and have patronized his fellows in the ditch.
+
+"Will you take my arm, William?" said the old man waiting in the road.
+"This is the house."
+
+"No. I have half a mind to drop the whole matter. Why should I drag out
+the secrets of the grave? God knows, I shall find them out soon enough!"
+
+"Just so. Precisely. It's a miserable business for this April day. Now,
+I don't want to advise, but shall we drive out on the Wissahickon and
+fish a bit? You'll catch a perch, and Jane shall broil it over the
+coals, eh?"
+
+"Oh, of course I'm going through with it," scowling and blinking through
+his eye-glasses. "But we are ten minutes before the time. I can't sit in
+a draughty room waiting. Tell David to drive slowly down the road until
+four, Captain Swendon."
+
+"Certainly, certainly," with the nervous conciliatory haste of a man
+long used to being snubbed.--"You hear Mr. Laidley, David?--We'll
+arrange it in this way, then. Miss Fleming and I will stroll down the
+road, William, until the time is up.--No, Jane," as his daughter was
+going to leave the carriage. "Stay with your cousin." The captain was
+his peremptory self again. Like every man conscious of his own
+inability, he asserted himself by incessant managing and meddling for
+his neighbors.
+
+The carriage jolted down the rutted road. The little man inside tossed
+on the well-padded cushions, and moaned and puffed spasmodically at his
+cigar.
+
+Buff and David, stiff in green and gold on the box, nodded significantly
+at each other. "He's nigh unto de end," said Buff. "De gates of glory am
+creakin' foh him."
+
+"Creakin', shore nuff. But 'bout de glory I'm not so shore. Yoh see, I
+knows," rubbing his gray whiskers with the end of the whip. "I have him
+in charge. Mass' Swendon gib orders: 'Yoh stick by him, Dave.' 'S got no
+friends: 's got no backbone. Why, wid a twinge ob toothache he squirms
+like an eel in de fire--swears to make de debbil turn pale. It'll be an
+awful sight when Death gits a holt on him. But I'll stick."
+
+Captain Swendon and Miss Fleming, left alone under the pines, both
+turned and looked at the house as if it were an open grave.
+
+"So it is here the dead are to come back?" said the captain with a
+feebly-jocular giggle. "We'll go down the road a bit. 'Pon my soul, the
+atmosphere here is ghastly."
+
+They struck into the meadows, sauntered through a strip of woodland
+where the sparrows were chirping in the thin green boughs overhead, and,
+crossing some newly-ploughed fields, came suddenly upon a row of
+contract-houses, bold, upright in the mud, aggressively new and genteel.
+They were tricked out with thin marble facings and steps. A drug-shop
+glittered already at one end of the block, and a milliner's furbelowed
+window closed the other with a red-lettered sign, which might have
+served as a motto for the whole: "Here you buy your dollar's worth of
+fashion for your dime of cash."
+
+"Ah!" cried the captain, "no ghostly work here!--the last place where
+one would look for any miraculous stoppage of the laws of Nature."
+
+"Stoppage, you should say, of the social laws of 'gents' and their
+ladies, which are much more inexorable," said his companion. "Oh I know
+them!" glancing in at the windows, as she tramped through the yellow
+mud, with keen, amused eyes. "I know just what life must be in one of
+these houses--the starving music-teacher on one side of you, and the
+soapboiler on the other: the wretched small servant going the rounds of
+the block to whiten the steps every evening, while the mistresses sit
+within in cotton lace and sleazy silks, tinkling on the piano, or
+counting up the greasy passbook from the grocer's. Imagine such a life
+broken in upon by a soul from the other world!"
+
+"Yet souls go out from it into the other world. And I've known good
+women who wore cheap finery and aped gentility. Of course," with a
+sudden gusty energy, "_I_ don't endorse that sort of thing; and I don't
+believe the dead will come back to-day. Don't mistake me," shaking his
+head. The captain was always gusty and emphatic. His high-beaked,
+quick-glancing face and owlish eyes were ready to punctuate other men's
+thoughts with an incessant exclamation-point to bring out their true
+meaning. Since he was a boy he had known that he was born a
+drill-sergeant and the rest of mankind raw recruits. "Now, there's
+something terribly pathetic to me," he said, "in this whole expedition
+of ours. The idea of poor Will in his last days trying to catch a
+glimpse of the country to which he is going!"
+
+Cornelia Fleming nodded, and let the subject drop. She never wasted her
+time by peering into death or religion. She belonged to this world, and
+she knew it. A wise racer keeps to the course for which he has been
+trained, and never ventures into the quagmires beyond. She stopped
+beside a tiny yard where a magnolia tree spread its bare stalks and dull
+white flowers over the fence, and stood on tiptoe to break a bud. The
+owner of the house, an old man with a box of carpenter's tools in his
+hand, opened the door at the moment. She nodded brightly to him. "I am
+robbing you, sir. For a sick friend yonder," she said.
+
+He came down quickly and loaded her with flowers, thinking he had never
+heard a voice as peculiar and pleasant. The captain, a little behind,
+eyed her critically from head to foot, his mouth drawn up for a
+meditative whistle, as she stood on tiptoe, her arm stretched up among
+the creamy buds. The loose sleeve fell back: the arm was round and
+white.
+
+"Very good! ve-ry good!" the whistle meant; "and I know the points of a
+fine woman as well as any of these young fellows."
+
+Two young fellows, coming up, lingered to glance at the jimp waist and
+finely-turned ankle, with a shrug to each other when, passing by, they
+saw her homely face.
+
+The captain gallantly relieved her of her flowers, and paraded down the
+road, head up, elbows well out, as he used, thirty years ago, to escort
+pretty Virginie Mor�t in the French quartier of New Orleans. It was long
+since he had relished conversation as he did with this frank, generous
+creature. No coquetry about her! It was like talking to a clever,
+candid boy. Every man felt, in fact, with Cornelia, that she was only a
+younger brother. He liked the hearty grasp of her big white hand; he
+liked her honest, downright way of stating things, and her perfect
+indifference to her own undeniable ugliness. Now, any other woman of her
+age--thirty, eh? (with a quick critical glance)--would dye her hair: she
+never cared to hide the streaks of gray through the yellow. She had
+evidently long ago made up her mind that love and marriage were
+impossible for women as unprepossessing as she: she stepped freely up,
+therefore, to level ground with men, and struck hands and made
+friendships with them precisely as if she were one of themselves.
+
+The captain quite glowed with the fervor of this friendship as he
+marched along talking energetically. A certain subtle instinct of
+kinship between them seemed to him to trench upon the supernatural: it
+covered every thought and taste. She had a keen wit, she grasped his
+finest ideas: not even Jane laughed at his jokes more heartily. She
+appreciated his inventive ability: he was not sure that Jane did. There
+were topics, too, on which he could touch with this mature companion
+that were caviare to Jane. It was no such mighty matter if he blurted
+out an oath before her, as he used to do in the army. Something, indeed,
+in the very presence of the light, full figure keeping step with his
+own, in the heavy odor of the magnolias and the steady regard of the
+yellowish-brown eyes, revived within him an old self which belonged to
+those days in the army--a self which was not the man whom his daughter
+knew, by any means.
+
+They were talking at the time, as it happened, of his military
+experience: "I served under Scott in Mexico. Jane thinks me a hero, of
+course. But I confess to you that I enlisted, in the first place, to
+keep the wolf out of the house at home. I had spent our last dollar in
+manufacturing my patent scissors, and they--well, they wouldn't cut
+anything, unless--I used to suspect Atropos had borrowed them and meant
+to snip the thread for me, it was stretched so tightly just then."
+
+She looked gravely at his empty sleeve.
+
+The captain caught the glance, and coughed uncomfortably: "Oh, I did not
+lose that in the service, you understand. No such luck! Five days after
+I was discharged, after I had come out of every battle with a whole
+skin, I was on a railway-train going home. Collision: arm taken off at
+the elbow. If it had happened just one week earlier, I should have had a
+pension, and Jane--Well, Jane has had a rough time of it, Miss Fleming.
+But it was my luck!"
+
+They had returned through the woods, and were in sight again of the
+house standing darkly among the pines. Two gentlemen, pacing up and down
+the solitary road, came down the hill to meet them.
+
+"Tut! tut! It is that Virginia lawyer who has come up to get into
+practice here--Judge Rhodes. You know him, Miss Fleming. There's an end
+to our quiet talk. That fellow besieges a woman with his click-clack:
+never leaves a crack for a sensible man to edge in a word."
+
+Miss Fleming turned her honest eyes full on his for a moment, but did
+not speak. The captain's startled, foolish old heart throbbed with a
+feeling which he had not known since that day in the boat on the bayou
+when Virginie Mor�t first put her warm little hand in his. Virginie as a
+wife had been a trifle of a shrew. Love in the remembrance often has a
+bitter twang. But this was friendship! How sweet were the friendship and
+confidence of a woman! Pretty women of late years approached the captain
+in his fatherly capacity, much to his disrelish. A man need not have his
+gray hairs and rheumatism thrown in his teeth at every turn. Miss
+Fleming, now, saw beneath them: she saw what a gallant young fellow he
+was at heart. He looked down at her eagerly, but she was carelessly
+inspecting the judge and his companion.
+
+"Who is the fair-haired, natty little man?"
+
+"Oh! Phil Waring, a young fellow about town. Society man. Too fond of
+cards. Nice lad, but no experience: no companion for you, Miss Fleming."
+
+A vague, subtle change passed over her. It was no definable alteration
+in mind or body, yet a keener observer than the captain might have
+suspected a readjustment of both to suit some possible new relation.
+
+Mr. Waring and the judge joined them, and they all walked together
+toward the house, engrossed with their errand. Miss Fleming never
+expected from men the finical gallantry usually paid to young ladies,
+and even the gallant Virginian did not give it to her. The captain
+indeed, perceiving that she was occupied with Judge Rhodes, gave her up
+to his escort. "It is almost four. I will go down the road and find the
+carriage and William," he said, and left them.
+
+Judge Rhodes, as they drew near the house, regarded it darkly: "Decay!
+death and decay!" waving his pudgy red hands theatrically. "A gloomy
+gate indeed, through which the dead might well choose to return."
+
+"I should call it a badly-set stage for a poor melodrama," said Miss
+Fleming coolly.
+
+"But your character is so practical! You are fortunate in that." The
+judge, who was a stout, bald man, gazed at the house with vague
+abstraction and dilating nostrils. "Now, I am peculiarly susceptible to
+spiritual influences. I have been since a boy as sensitive to pain, to,
+ah--sympathies, to those, ah--electric cords, as Byron says, wherewith
+we're darkly bound, as--as a wind-harp. I really dread the effect upon
+myself of the revelations of to-day."
+
+Miss Fleming was silent. The judge, as she knew, was one of those shrewd
+common-sense men who, when lifted out of their place into the region of
+sentiment or romance, swagger and generally misconduct themselves, like
+a workman conscious of his ill-fitting Sunday finery.
+
+One or two carriages drove up to the gate and stopped.
+
+"Who are those people, Mr. Waring?" said the judge, dropping into his
+ordinary tone.
+
+Mr. Waring put on his eye-glasses. He knew everybody, and had as keen
+an eye and strong an antipathy for eccentric characters in conventional
+Philadelphia as a proof-reader for false type. "There is Dehr, the
+German homoeopath and Spiritualist," he said in a little mild voice,
+which oddly reminded Miss Fleming of the gurgling flow of new milk.
+"That woman marching before him is his wife."
+
+"I know," muttered the judge--"strong-minded. Most extraordinary women
+turn up every day here. This one lectures on hygiene. Mad, undoubtedly."
+
+"Oh no," said Waring--"very dull, good people, both of the Dehrs. Not
+two ideas to share between them. But there are a dozen tow-headed
+youngsters at home: they drive the old people into such out-of-the-way
+courses to scratch for a living. That man in white is the great
+Socialist, Schaus. The others are scientific fellows from New York and
+Boston."
+
+"I wish Van Ness was here," said the judge, nodding ponderously. "Van
+Ness is better known in Richmond than any other Philadelphian, sir. Most
+remarkable man. Science is well enough as far as it goes, but for clear
+intelligence, give me Pliny Van Ness."
+
+"No doubt," said Mr. Waring gravely. "Great reformer, I hear. Don't meet
+him in society. Of a new family."
+
+"Mr. Laidley objected to his coming," said Cornelia.
+
+"He did, eh? I'm astonished at that," said the judge. "I consider Van
+Ness--But Laidley had the right to object, of course. The meeting is one
+of the captain's famous schemes--to amuse Laidley. But they tell me that
+he knows he is dying, and has determined to bring a certain spirit out
+of the other world to ask an important question."
+
+"I should think," said Miss Fleming dryly, "Mr. Laidley would always
+require supernatural aid to make up his mind for him. After I talk to
+him I have the feeling that I have been handling froth. Not clean froth
+either." When Miss Fleming made the men and women about her the subjects
+of her skill in dissection, her voice took a neat incisive edge,
+suggestive of the touch of a scalpel. Little Mr. Waring, pulling his
+moustache thoughtfully, studied her for a moment without reply.
+
+"Hoh!" laughed the judge. "You have a keen eye! There can be no doubt,"
+suddenly sobering, "that Laidley has been uncommonly fast. But his blood
+is good--none better in Maryland. High-toned family, the Laidleys. Mr.
+Waring here could give you his life chapter by chapter if he would. But
+he would skip over the dirty bits as carefully as he is doing in the
+road."
+
+"Laidley's life is so very nearly over," suggested Mr. Waring quietly.
+
+There was an awkward silence of a moment.
+
+"Now, I can't understand," blustered the judge, "how Captain Swendon can
+nurse that fellow as tenderly as he is doing. I've got my share of
+humanity and forgiveness, and all that. But if any man had thrust my
+wife and child out of their property, as he has done, he had better have
+kept out of my sight, sir. I know all about them, you see, for two
+generations. Captain's wife was a New Orleans girl--Virginia Mor�t. It
+wasn't a matter of property: it was starvation. Poor little
+Virginie--pretty creature she was too!--would have been alive to-day,
+there's no doubt of it, if she could have had proper food and medicines.
+And there's his daughter! What kind of a life has she had for a girl
+with such blood in her veins? Why, if I should tell you the sum on which
+that child has supported herself and her father in Baltimore and here
+since her mother died, you wouldn't believe me. And Laidley did nothing
+for them. Not a penny! Under the circumstances it was a crime for him to
+be alive."
+
+"What were the circumstances?" asked Miss Fleming.
+
+"The property, you understand, was old Mor�t's--Mor�t of New Orleans.
+Virginie was his only child: she married Swendon, and her father came to
+live with them in Baltimore. The two men were at odds from the first
+day. Old Mor�t was a keen, pig-headed business-man: he knew nothing
+outside of the tobacco-trade; worked in the counting-house all day; his
+one idea of pleasure was to swill port and terrapin half the night.
+Swendon--Well, you know the captain. He was a brilliant young fellow in
+those days, full of ideas that never came to anything--an invention
+every month which was to make his fortune. They quarreled, of course the
+wife sided with her husband, and Mor�t, in a fit of rage, left the whole
+property to his nephew, Will Laidley. When he was on his deathbed,
+however, the old man relented and sent for Laidley. It was too late to
+alter the will, but he charged him to do justice to his daughter.
+Laidley has told me that much himself. But it never occurred to him that
+justice meant anything more than to keep the estate, and allow it at his
+death to revert to Jane and her father."
+
+"Well, well!" cried Mr. Waring hastily, "that cannot be far off now.
+Laidley is so nearly a thing of the past, judge, that we might afford to
+bury his faults with him, decently out of sight."
+
+"I can't put out of sight the years of want for Virginie and her child
+while he was throwing their money to the dogs in every gambling-hell in
+Baltimore and New York. Why, the story was so well known that when he
+came down to Richmond he was not recognized, sir! Not recognized. He
+felt it. Left the county like a whipped cur."
+
+"Yet, legally, the money was his own," remarked Cornelia.
+
+"Oh, legally, I grant you! But morally, now--" The judge had counted on
+Miss Fleming's sympathy in his story. Only the day before he had seen
+the tears come to her eyes over his hurt hound. He was disappointed that
+she took little Jane's misfortunes so coolly. "Of course this sort of
+crime is unappreciable in the courts. But society, Virginia society,
+knows how to deal with it."
+
+"I happen to know," said Waring, "that Laidley's will was made a year
+ago, leaving the whole property to Miss Swendon."
+
+"And he knows that in the mean time she is barely able to keep herself
+and her father alive. Pah-h!"
+
+"Really, Jane has quite a dramatic history, and you are precisely the
+person to tell it with effect, judge," said Miss Fleming, smiling
+good-humoredly, with that peculiar affable intonation which always numbs
+the hearer into a conviction that his too excessive emotion is being
+humored as the antics of an ill-disciplined child.
+
+The judge grew red.
+
+"Yes," continued Miss Fleming, her eyes upon him, "Jane _is_ pretty.
+Your zeal is excusable." The road was muddy at this point, and she
+passed on in front of them, picking her steps.
+
+"Damn it!" said the judge, "they're all alike! No woman can be just to a
+pretty face. I thought this girl had sense enough to lift her above such
+petty jealousy."
+
+"She is not jealous," said Waring, looking critically at her back as he
+arranged his thin tow-colored moustache. "She is an Arab among her own
+sex. It's a common type in this part of the country. She fraternizes
+with men, horses and Nature, and sneers at other women as she would at
+artificial flowers and perfumery. I don't know Miss Fleming, but I know
+her class very well."
+
+The Virginian, whose blood revolted at this censure of a lady, rushed to
+the rescue: "She's honest, at any rate. No mean feminine tricks about
+her. She's offensively truthful. And, after all, she's right: Swendon is
+a good-for-nothing, a well-born tramp; and Jane is hardly a subject for
+pity. She's a remarkably healthy girl; a little dull, but with more
+staying power in her than belongs to a dozen of those morbid,
+strong-minded women of yours in the North. I suppose I do let my
+sympathy run away with me."
+
+They joined Cornelia and entered the broken gate. The door of the house
+swung open at a touch. Within were bare halls and rooms covered with
+dust, the floors of which creaked drearily under their tread. Following
+the sound of stifled voices, they went up to a large upper chamber. The
+walls of this room were stained almost black; a thick carpet deadened
+the floor; the solid wooden shutters were barred and heavily curtained.
+They made their way to the farther end of the room, a little apart from
+a group of dark figures who talked together in whispers. Miss Fleming
+noticed a nervous trepidation in the manner of both men, and instantly
+became grave, as though she too were more deeply moved than she cared to
+show.
+
+The whispers ceased, and the silence was growing oppressive when steps
+were heard upon the stairs.
+
+"Hoh!" puffed the judge. "Here is Laidley at last."
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+It was not Laidley who entered, but Mrs. Combe, then the most-famous
+clairvoyant in the United States. According to statements of men both
+shrewd and honest she had lately succeeded in bringing the dead back to
+them in actual bodily presence. The voice was heard, then the spirit
+slowly grew into matter beside them. They could feel and see its warm
+flesh, its hair and clothing, and even while they held it it melted
+again into the impalpable air, and was gone. The account was attested by
+persons of such integrity and prominence as to command attention from
+scientific men. They knew, of course, that it was a trick, but the trick
+must be so well managed as to be worth the trouble of exposure. Hence,
+Mrs. Combe upon her entrance was received with silent, keen attention.
+
+She was a tall pillar-like woman, with some heavy drapery of black
+velvet or cloth about her: there were massive coils of coarse black
+hair, dead narrow eyes of the same color, a closely-shut jaw: no point
+of light in the figure, but a rope of unburnished gold about her neck.
+She stood with her hands dropped at her sides, immovable, while her
+husband, a greasy little manikin with a Jewish face, turned on the light
+and waved the attention of the audience to her: "This is Miriam Combe,
+the first person since the Witch of Endor who has succeeded in
+materializing the shpirits of the dead. Our meeting here to-day is under
+peculiar shircumstances. A zhentleman unknown to me and Mrs. Combe, but
+who, I am told, is near death, desires to recall the shpirit of a dead
+friend. Zhentlemans will reconize the fact that the thing we propose to
+do depends upon the states of minds and matters about us. If these
+elements are disturbed by unbelief or by too much light or noise when
+the soul shtruggling to return wants silence and darkness, why--it
+cannot make for itself a body--dat's all."
+
+"You compel belief, in a word, before you prove to us that we ought to
+believe," said a professor from a Baptist college in New Jersey, smiling
+blandly down upon him. "Scientifically--"
+
+"I knows noting of scientifics. I knows dat my wife hash de power to
+ashist de souls to clode demselves wid matter. I don't pretend to
+explain where she got dat power, I don't know what ish dat power: I only
+know she hash it. If zhentlemans will submit to the conditions, they
+shall zhoodge for demselves."
+
+"Now, the ignorance of this man impresses me favorably," said the
+professor to his friends. "He is evidently incapable of inventing a
+successful trick even of conjuring. If any great unknown force of Nature
+has chosen him or his wife as tools, we should not despise the
+manifestation because the tools are very gross matter. They are the
+steel wire charged with the lightning, perhaps."
+
+Dr. Dehr came forward and touched the motionless woman, shaking his head
+solemnly: "She is highly charged with electricity now, sir. The air is
+vital, as I might say, with spiritual presences. I have no doubt,
+gentlemen, before we part, that we shall see one of the most remarkable
+phenomena of the nineteenth century."
+
+"How well she poses!" whispered Miss Fleming to the judge. "But the
+stage-properties are bad: the velvet is cotton, and the gold
+brass-gilt."
+
+"Now, to me," said the judge emphatically, "there is a dreadful reality,
+a dead look, in her face. What Poe would have made of this scene! There
+was a man who could grapple with these supreme mysteries! No! that woman
+undoubtedly has learned the secret of life and of death. She can afford
+to be passive." The judge's very whisper was judicial, though pulpy.
+
+It was not possible that the woman should have heard them, yet a moment
+after she lifted her eyes and motioned slowly toward them.
+
+"God bless my soul, ma'am! You don't want me!" cried the judge.
+
+Waring half rose, laughing, but with cold chills down his backbone, and
+then dropped into his seat, relieved: "You are the chosen victim, Miss
+Fleming."
+
+Cornelia went up to the medium. She was confident the whole affair was a
+vulgar trick, but there was a stricture at her heart as if an iron hand
+had been laid upon it. The energy went out of her step, the blood from
+her face.
+
+The woman laid her hand on her arm. "I need you," she said in a deep
+voice. "You have great magnetic force: you can aid this soul to return
+to life if you will. Sit there." She placed both her hands lightly on
+Cornelia's forehead. Miss Fleming dropped into the seat: she could not
+have done otherwise.
+
+"Before we opens the s�ance," proceeded Combe, "zhentlemans can examine
+de cabinet and convince demselves dere is no trick."
+
+The cabinet was a light triangular structure of black walnut, about
+seven feet in height, placed in one corner of the room, though with an
+open space between it and the wall. It moved on casters: the door was on
+the side facing the audience. Miss Fleming observed with amusement that
+the seat given her removed her to the farthest distance from this door.
+
+"You will notish dat dere is absolutely noting in de cabinet but a
+chair--zhoost de walls and de floor and de chair. Miriam will sit there,
+and de door will be closed. When it opens you will see de embodied
+spirit beside her."
+
+"Hillo!" cried the judge, "what's this behind the cabinet?"
+
+"It is a window overlooking de garden: I had it boarded up to prevent
+you sushpecting me of trickery. But you sushpect mine boards, mein
+Gott! Exshamine dem, exshamine dem! Go outside."
+
+The judge did so. "They are screwed on honestly enough," he said to the
+spectators. "A ghost had need of a battering-ram to come through that
+window. It opens on an area thirty feet deep."
+
+The woman went into the cabinet and the door was closed. Steps were
+heard upon the stairs.
+
+"It ish de zhentleman who calls for de shpirit to appear," said Combe in
+a whisper.
+
+The door opened, and Laidley, supported by Captain Swendon, entered,
+giving a quick appealing look about him as he halted for a moment on the
+threshold. The dignity of approaching death was in his weak, ghastly
+face, and the judge rose involuntarily, just as he would have stood
+uncovered if a corpse had gone by. Laidley took the seat which the
+captain with his usual bluster placed for him opposite the door of the
+cabinet. Combe turned out the lights: the room was in absolute darkness.
+The judge moved uneasily near to Waring: "Don't laugh at me, Mr. Waring.
+But I really feel that there is a Presence in this room which is not
+human. I wish I had listened to my wife. She does not approve of this
+sort of thing at all: she thinks no good churchman should meddle with
+it. But there is _something_ in the room."
+
+"Yes, I am conscious of what you mean. But it is a physical force, not
+spiritual. Not electricity, either. It is something which has never
+affected my senses before. Whatever it is, it is the stock in trade of
+these people."
+
+They were ordered by Combe to join hands, and everybody obeyed excepting
+the captain's daughter, who stood unnoticed by one of the curtained
+windows.
+
+A profound silence followed, broken by a stifled sob from some
+over-nervous woman. The low roll of an organ filled the void and died.
+After that there was no complete sound but at intervals the silence took
+breath, spoke in a half-articulate wail, and was dumb again.
+
+Pale nebulous light shone in the cabinet and faded: then a single ray
+fell direct on Laidley's face. It stood out from the night around like
+a bas-relief--livid, commonplace, a presentment of every-day death. Each
+man present suddenly saw his own grave open, and the world beyond
+brought within reach through this insignificant man.
+
+"The spirits of many of the dead are present," said the sepulchral voice
+within the cabinet. "What do you ask of them?"
+
+Laidley's lips moved: he grasped the arms of his chair, half rose: then
+he fumbled mechanically in his pocket for his cigar-case, and not
+finding it sank back helplessly.
+
+"What do you ask of them? Their time is brief."
+
+"I'm a very ill man," he piped feebly: "the doctors give me no hope at
+all. I want advice about a certain matter before--before it's too late.
+It is a great wrong I have done that I want to set right."
+
+"Can any of the dead counsel you? Or do you summon one soul to appear?"
+
+"There is but one who knows."
+
+"Call for her, then."
+
+Laidley looked about him uncertainly: then he said in a hoarse whisper,
+"Virginie Mor�t!"
+
+The captain sprang to his feet: "My wife? No, no! for God's sake!"
+
+The light was swiftly drawn back into the cabinet and extinguished.
+After several minutes the voice was heard again: "The spirit summoned is
+present. But it has not the force to resume a material body unless the
+need is urgent. You must state the question you would have answered."
+
+"I must see Virginie here, in bodily presence, before I'll accept any
+answer," said Laidley obstinately. "I'll have no hocus-pocus by mediums
+or raps. If the dead know anything, she knows why I need her. I have had
+money to which she had a--well, a claim. I've not spent it, perhaps, in
+the best way. I have a mind now to atone for my mistake by leaving it to
+a charity where I know it will do great good."
+
+An amazed whistle broke through the darkness from the corner where the
+judge sat. The captain caught Laidley's shoulder. "William," he
+whispered, "surely you forget Jane."
+
+Laidley shook him off. "The money is my own," he said loudly, "to do
+with as I choose. But if Virginie can return from the dead, she shall
+decide for me."
+
+"It's enough to bring her back," muttered the judge. "Do you hear that?"
+thumping Waring's knee--"that miserable shrimp swindling her child in
+order to buy God's good-will for himself!"
+
+There was a prolonged silence. At last a voice was heard: "She will
+appear to you."
+
+The organ rolled heavily, low soft thunders of music rose and fell, a
+faint yellowish vapor stole out from under the cabinet and filled the
+darkness with a visible haze. Captain Swendon stumbled to his feet and
+went back to his daughter: "I can't bear it, child! I can't bear it!"
+dropping into a chair.
+
+She took his hand in her own, which were quite cool, and stroked and
+kissed it. But she did not speak nor take her eyes from the door of the
+cabinet.
+
+It opened. Within sat Miriam, immovable, her eyes closed. Beside her
+stood a shadowy luminous figure covered with a filmy veil. It moved
+forward into the room. So thick was the vapor that the figure itself
+appeared but a shade.
+
+Laidley stooped forward, his hands on his knees, his lips apart, his
+eyes dilated with terror.
+
+The veil slowly fell from the face of the spirit, and revealed,
+indistinctly as the negative of a photograph, a small thin woman with
+eager, restless eyes, and black hair rolled in puffs high on the head in
+the fashion of many years ago.
+
+"Virginie!" gasped Laidley.
+
+The captain shuddered, and hid his face. His daughter, with a quick step
+backward, threw aside the curtains and flung open the shutters. The
+broad daylight streamed in.
+
+Combe sprang toward her with an oath.
+
+The young girl held back the curtain steadily. "We need fresh air," she
+said smiling resolutely in his face.
+
+The rush of air, the daylight, the cheerful voice wakened the room as
+out of a vision of death. The men started to their feet; there was a
+tumult of voices and laughter; the materialized soul staggered back to
+reach the cabinet. The whole of the cheap trickery was bared: her hair
+was an ill-fitting wig, the chalk lay in patches on her face, the vapor
+of Hades was only salt burning in a dish: the boards removed from the
+window showed her snug hiding-place inside.
+
+Dr. Dehr's fury made itself heard above the confusion: "You have brought
+Spiritualism into disrepute by your infernal imposture!" clutching the
+poor wretch by the shoulder, while another intemperate disciple called
+loudly for the police. The woman began to sob, but did not utter a word.
+
+"Let her go, doctor," said Mr. Waring, coming up. "We paid to see a
+farce, and it was really a very nice bit of acting. This poor girl was
+hired, no doubt: she is only earning her living."
+
+"What has she done?" cried Dehr. "Spiritualism in Philadelphia never has
+attracted the class of investigators that are here to-day, and she--"
+shaking her viciously--"she's an impostor!"
+
+"Damnation! she's a woman!" wrenching his hand from her. She gave Waring
+a keen furtive glance, and drew quickly aside. While some of the seekers
+after truth demanded their five dollars back with New England obstinacy,
+and Combe chattered and screeched at them, she stood in the middle of
+the room, immovable, her sombre sallow face set, her tawdry
+stage-properties about her--the crown of false black hair, the sweeping
+drapery, the smoking dish with fumes of ghastly vapor.
+
+Mr. Waring went up to a short, broadly-built man in gray who had been
+seated in the background during the s�ance. "I did not know that you
+were in town or here, Mr. Neckart," he said with a certain marked
+respect. "That is not an unpicturesque figure, I think. She would serve
+as a study of Night, now--a stormy, muggy town-night, full of ooze and
+slime." Mr. Waring's manner and rhetoric were uneasy and deferential.
+Mr. Neckart was a power in a region quite outside of the little
+fastidious gossiping club of men and women whom he was wont to call the
+World.
+
+"Your Night, apparently, has little relish for the morning," he said.
+
+The woman's threatening eyes, in fact, were fixed on the tall fair girl,
+the captain's daughter, who stood in the window, busied with buttoning
+her father's overcoat and pinning his empty sleeve to his breast. She
+was looking up at him, and talking: the wind stirred her loose pale-gold
+hair; behind her branches of white roses from a vine outside thrust
+themselves in at the window: the birds chirped in the rustling maples
+beyond.
+
+"What a wonderful effect of light and color!" said Waring, who had
+lounged through studios and galleries enough to enable him to parcel out
+the world into so many bits of palette and brush-work. "Observe the
+atmosphere of sunshine and youth. Cabanel might paint the girl's face
+for the Dawn. Eyes of that profound blue appear to hold the light
+latent."
+
+"There seems to be unusual candor in them," said Mr. Neckart, glancing
+carelessly at Jane again, and drawing on his gloves. "A lack of
+shrewdness remarkable in an American woman."
+
+"The Swendons are Swedes by descent, you know. A little phlegm, a lack
+of passion, is to be expected, eh? Now, my own taste prefers the
+American type--features animated by a nimbler brain; as there, for
+example," looking toward Miss Fleming. "Ugly beyond apology. But there
+is a subtle attraction in it."
+
+"No doubt you are right. I really know very little about women,"
+indifferently. He nodded good-evening, glancing at his watch as he went
+out.
+
+The captain was conscious of some malignant influence at his back, and
+turning, saw the woman, who had gradually approached, and now stood
+still. He hastily stepped between her and his daughter: "Good God! Stand
+back, Jane! This woman is following you."
+
+"She looks as if she had the evil eye. But they are very fine eyes,"
+said the young girl, inspecting her quietly, as if she had been a toad
+that stood suddenly upright in her way.
+
+"I owe you an ill turn, and I shall pay it," said the woman with a
+tragic wave of the arms. "I had a way to support myself and my boy for
+a year, and you have taken it from me."
+
+"It was such a very poor way! Such a shabby farce! And it was my mother
+that--" She stopped, a slight tremor on the fair, quiet face.
+
+"Oh, I shall pay you!" The woman gathered her cheap finery about her and
+swept from the room.
+
+In the confusion Judge Rhodes had sought out Laidley, full of righteous
+wrath on behalf of his friend the captain, against this limp fellow who
+was going to enter heaven with a paltering apology for dishonesty on his
+lips. Laidley, however, was reclining in the easy-chair with his eyes
+closed, and the closed eyes gave so startling an appearance of death to
+the face that the judge was thrown back in his headlong charge. "Why,
+why, William! I'm sorry to see you looking so under the weather," he
+said kindly.
+
+Laidley's eyes began to blink: he smiled miserably: "It's too late to
+throw the blame on the weather, judge. Though I'm going back to Aiken
+next week. I came North too soon."
+
+"This affair has turned out a more palpable humbug than I expected,"
+trying to approach the point at issue by a gentle roundabout ascent. "I
+wish Van Ness had been here--Pliny Van Ness. There's a man whose advice
+I seek since I came to Philadelphia on all important matters. A man
+whose integrity, justice--God bless me, William! You must know Pliny Van
+Ness. Why don't you take his counsel, instead of meddling with these
+wretched mediums? Raising the dead to tell you what to do? Bah! If you
+had asked me, now--"
+
+Laidley had drawn himself up in the chair, his watery eyes gathering a
+faint eagerness: "Sit down. Here. I wish to speak to you, judge. Nobody
+will hear us."
+
+"Certainly. As you ask me now--I know the whole case. Don't try to talk:
+it only makes you cough. You want to say that the property--"
+
+"I want to say nothing about the property. My will was made last week. I
+am determined to throw my means into that channel where it will best
+contribute to God's service. He will not scorn a late repentance. But
+Van Ness--it was about Van Ness I wanted to talk to you."
+
+"If your will was made last week, why did you try to bring back poor
+dead Virginie to advise you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Laidley, coughing nervously--"I don't know. I
+thought she would confirm me--I--I want to be just to her daughter, God
+knows!"
+
+"What is your idea of justice?"
+
+"Why this--this," eagerly, catching the judge's red, fat hand in his
+cold fingers. "Jane will be a woman whom Van Ness would be apt to
+approve. I know he's fastidious. But she's very delicate and fair--as
+fine a bit of human flesh as I ever saw. As for mind, she has none. A
+mere child. He could mould her--mould her. Eh? I think I could throw out
+an inducement which would lead him to look favorably on her--when she's
+of a marriageable age, that is. If the girl were married to such a man
+as Van Ness, surely she would be well placed for life. Nobody could
+blame me for not making an heiress of her."
+
+"Jane? Van Ness?" said the judge thoughtfully. "Well, Van Ness is a man
+whom any woman in the country should be proud to marry. But he is
+impregnable to that sort of thing. And Jane is but a child, as you say.
+The scheme seems to me utterly unfeasible, Laidley. Besides, what has it
+to do with her claims on you?"
+
+"It has everything to do with them. I give her instead of money a home
+and husband such as no money can buy. They must be brought together,
+judge. You must do it. I have a word to say to Van Ness that will open
+his eyes to her merits. I will plant the seed, as I might say. It will
+grow fast enough."
+
+The judge was silent as he helped Laidley, still talking eagerly, down
+the stairs and into his carriage. The whole fantastic scheme was, as he
+saw, the cowardly device of the dying man to appease his conscience.
+That this poor creature should have any power to influence Van Ness, the
+purest and strongest of men, was a mere bit of braggadocio, which surely
+did not deceive even Laidley himself.
+
+But what could he do? To stab with reproach, even to argue with this
+nerveless, worn-out man, flaccid in mind and body, seemed to the kindly
+old fellow as cruel as to torture a dying fish or other cold-blooded
+creature of whose condition or capacity for suffering he could have no
+just idea.
+
+                                          REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.
+
+[TO BE CONTINUED.]
+
+
+
+
+THE SWEETENER.
+
+
+    Spring blossom, rose of June and autumn-cluster
+      Appeal alike unto the bloom of health,
+    In whose spontaneous, overflowing lustre
+      Is half the secret of the season's wealth.
+
+    The pallid cheek may warm to apple-flushes,
+      The fevered lip kiss fondly sweets of June,
+    The languid palate leap to fruitage luscious,
+      Yet weary of their day before the noon.
+
+    'Tis laughing Health, with an unhindered fountain
+      Of joy upbubbling from her being's core,
+    Whose lavish life embraces vale or mountain,
+      And drains delight at every opened door.
+
+                               MARY B. DODGE.
+
+
+
+
+AN ENGLISH EASTER.
+
+
+It may be said of the English as is said of the council of war in
+Sheridan's farce of _The Critic_ by one of the spectators of the
+rehearsal, that when they _do_ agree their unanimity is wonderful. They
+differ among themselves greatly just now as regards the machinations of
+Russia, the derelictions of Turkey, the propriety of locking up the
+Reverend Arthur Tooth for his Romanizing excesses, the histrionic merits
+of Mr. Henry Irving, and a good many other matters; but neither just now
+nor at any other time do they fail to conform to those social
+observances on which Respectability has set her seal. England is a
+country of curious anomalies, and this has much to do with her being so
+interesting to foreign observers. The English individual character is
+very positive, very independent, very much made up according to its own
+sentiment of things, very prone to startling eccentricities; and yet at
+the same time it has beyond any other this peculiar gift of squaring
+itself with fashion and custom. In no other country, I imagine, are so
+many people to be found doing the same thing in the same way at the same
+time--using the same slang, wearing the same hats and cravats,
+collecting the same china-plates, playing the same game of lawn-tennis
+or of "polo," flocking into the same skating-rinks. The monotony of this
+spectacle would soon become oppressive if the foreign observer were not
+conscious of this latent capacity in the performers for the free play of
+character; he finds a good deal of entertainment in wondering how they
+reconcile the traditional insularity of the individual with this
+perpetual tribute to custom. Of course in all civilized societies the
+tribute to custom is being constantly paid; if it is less observable in
+America than elsewhere the reason is not, I think, because individual
+independence is greater, but because custom is more sparsely
+established. Where we have customs people certainly follow them; but for
+five American customs there are fifty English. I am very far from having
+discovered the secret; I have not in the least learned what becomes of
+that explosive personal force in the English character which is
+compressed and corked down by social conformity. I look with a certain
+awe at some of the manifestations of the conforming spirit, but the
+fermenting idiosyncrasies beneath it are hidden from my vision. The most
+striking example, to foreign eyes, of the power of custom in England is
+of course the universal church-going. In the sight of all England
+getting up from its tea and toast of a Sunday morning and brushing its
+hat and drawing on its gloves and taking its wife on its arm and making
+its offspring march before, and so, for decency's, respectability's,
+propriety's sake, making its way to a place of worship appointed by the
+State, in which it respects the formulas of a creed to which it attaches
+no positive sense and listens to a sermon over the length of which it
+explicitly haggles and grumbles,--in this great exhibition there is
+something very striking to a stranger, something which he hardly knows
+whether to pronounce very sublime or very puerile. He inclines on the
+whole to pronounce it sublime, because it gives him the feeling that
+whenever it may become necessary for a people trained in these
+manoeuvres to move all together under a common direction, they will
+have it in them to do so with tremendous force and cohesiveness. We hear
+a good deal about the effect of the Prussian military system in
+consolidating the German people and making them available for a
+particular purpose; but I really think it not fanciful to say that the
+military punctuality which characterizes the English observance of
+Sunday ought to be appreciated in the same fashion. A nation which has
+passed through the mill will certainly have been stamped by it. And
+here, as in the German military service, it is really the whole nation.
+When I spoke just now of paterfamilias and his _entourage_ I did not
+mean to limit the statement to him. The young unmarried men go to
+church; the gay bachelors, the irresponsible members of society. (That
+last epithet must be taken with a grain of allowance. No one in England
+is irresponsible, that perhaps is the shortest way of describing the
+country. Every one is free and every one is responsible. To say what it
+is people are responsible to is of course a great extension of the
+question: briefly, to social expectation, to propriety, to morality, to
+"position," to the classic English conscience, which is, after all, such
+a considerable affair.)
+
+The way in which the example of the more comfortable classes imposes
+itself upon the less comfortable may of course be noticed in smaller
+matters than church-going; in a great many matters which it may seem
+trivial to mention. If one is bent upon observation nothing, however, is
+trivial. So I may cite the practice of keeping the servants out of the
+room at breakfast. It is the fashion, and so, apparently, through the
+length and breadth of England, every one who has the slightest
+pretension to standing high enough to feel the way the social breeze is
+blowing conforms to it. It is awkward, unnatural, troublesome for those
+at table, it involves a vast amount of leaning and stretching, of
+waiting and perambulating, and it has just that vice against which, in
+English history, all great movements have been made--it is arbitrary.
+But it flourishes for all that, and all genteel people, looking into
+each other's eyes with the desperation of gentility, agree to endure it
+for gentility's sake. Another arbitrary trifle is the custom of
+depriving the unhappy visitor of a napkin at luncheon. When it is
+observed that the English luncheon differs from dinner only in being
+several degrees more elaborate and copious, and that in the London
+atmosphere it is but common charity, at any moment, to multiply your
+guest's opportunities if not for ablution at least for a "dry polish,"
+it will be perceived that such eccentricities are the very wantonness
+and pedantry of fashion. But, as I say, they flourish, and they form
+part of an immense body of prescriptive usages, to which a society
+possessing in the largest manner, both by temperament and education, the
+sense of the "inalienable" rights and comforts of the individual,
+contrives to accommodate itself. I do not mean to say that usage in
+England is always uncomfortable and arbitrary. On the contrary, few
+strangers can be unfamiliar with that sensation (a most agreeable one)
+which consists in perceiving in the excesses of a custom which has
+struck us at first as a mere brutal invention, a reason existing in the
+historic "good sense" of the English race. The sensation is frequent,
+though in saying so I do not mean to imply that even superficially the
+presumption is against the usages of English society. It is not, for
+instance, necessarily against the custom of which I had it more
+especially in mind to speak in writing these lines. The stranger in
+London is forewarned that at Easter all the world goes out of town, and
+that if he has no mind to be left as lonely as Marius on the ruins of
+Carthage, he, too, had better make arrangements for a temporary absence.
+It must be admitted that there is a sort of unexpectedness in this
+vernal exodus of a body of people who, but a week before, were
+apparently devoting much energy to settling down for the season. Half of
+them have but lately come back from the country, where they have been
+spending the winter, and they have just had time, it may be supposed, to
+collect the scattered threads of town-life. Presently, however, the
+threads are dropped and society is dispersed, as if it had taken a false
+start. It departs as Holy Week draws to a close, and remains absent for
+the following ten days. Where it goes is its own affair; a good deal of
+it goes to Paris. Spending last winter in that city I remember how, when
+I woke up on Easter Monday and looked out of my window, I found the
+street covered, overnight, with a sort of snow-fall of disembarked
+Britons. They made, for other people, an uncomfortable week of it. One's
+customary table at the restaurant, one's habitual stall at the Th��tre
+Fran�ais, one's usual fiacre on the cab-stand, were very apt to have
+suffered pre-emption. I believe that the pilgrimage to Paris was this
+year of the usual proportions: and you may be sure that people who did
+not cross the Channel were not without invitations to quiet old places
+in the country, where the pale, fresh primroses were beginning to light
+up the dark turf and the purple bloom of the bare tree-mosses to be
+freckled here and there with verdure. In England country-life is the
+obverse of the medal, town-life the reverse, and when an occasion comes
+for quitting London there are few members of what the French call the
+"easy class" who have not a collection of dull, moist, verdant resorts
+to choose from. Dull I call them, and I fancy not without reason, though
+at the moment I speak of their dullness must have been mitigated by the
+unintermittent presence of the keenest and liveliest of east winds. Even
+in mellow English country homes Easter-tide is a period of rawness and
+atmospheric acridity--the moment at which the frank hostility of winter,
+which has at last to give up the game, turns to peevishness and spite.
+This is what makes it arbitrary, as I said just now, for "easy" people
+to go forth to the wind-swept lawns and the shivering parks. But nothing
+is more striking to an American than the frequency of English holidays
+and the large way in which occasions for change and diversion are made
+use of. All this speaks to Americans of three things which they are
+accustomed to see allotted in scantier measure. The English have more
+time than we, they have more money, and they have a much higher relish
+for holiday taking. (I am speaking of course always of the "easy
+classes.") Leisure, fortune and the love of sport--these things are
+implied in English society at every turn. It was a very small number of
+weeks before Easter that Parliament met, and yet a ten days' recess was
+already, from the luxurious Parliamentary point of view, a necessity. A
+short time hence we shall be having the Whitsuntide Holidays, which I am
+told are even more of a festival than Easter, and from this point to
+midsummer, when everything stops, it is an easy journey. The business
+men and the professional men partake in equal measure of these agreeable
+diversions, and I was amused at hearing a lady whose husband was an
+active member of the bar say that, though he was leaving town with her
+for ten days and though Easter was a very nice bit of idleness, they
+really amused themselves with more gusto in the later recess, which
+would come on toward the end of May. I thought this highly probable, and
+admired so picturesque a chiaroscuro of work and play. If my phrase has
+a slightly ironical sound this is purely accidental. A large appetite
+for holidays, the ability not only to take them but to know what to do
+with them when taken, is the sign of a robust people, and judged by this
+measure we Americans are rather ill-conditioned. Such holidays as we
+take are taken very often in Europe, where it is sometimes noticeable
+that our privilege is rather heavy in our hands. Tribute rendered to
+English industry, however (our own stands in no need of compliments), it
+must be added that for those same easy classes I just spoke of things
+are very easy indeed. The number of persons available for purely social
+purposes at all times and seasons is infinitely greater than among
+ourselves; and the ingenuity of the arrangements permanently going
+forward to disembarrass them of their superfluous leisure is as yet in
+America an undeveloped branch of civilization. The young men who are
+preparing for the stern realities of life among the gray-green cloisters
+of Oxford are obliged to keep their terms but one half the year; and the
+rosy little cricketers of Eton and Harrow are let loose upon the
+parental home for an embarrassing number of months. Happily the parental
+home is apt to be an affair of gardens, lawns and parks.
+
+Passion Week, in London, is distinctly an ascetic period; there is
+really an approach to sackcloth and ashes. Private dissipation is
+suspended; most of the theatres and music-halls are closed; the huge
+dusky city seems to take on a still sadder coloring and a sort of hush
+steals over its mighty uproar. At such a time, for a stranger, London is
+not cheerful. Arriving there, during the past winter, about
+Christmas-time, I encountered three British Sundays in a row--a
+spectacle to strike terror into the stoutest heart. A Sunday and a
+"bank-holiday," if I remember aright, had joined hands with a Christmas
+Day and produced the portentous phenomenon to which I allude. I
+betrayed, I suppose, some apprehension of its oppressive character, for
+I remember being told in a consolatory way that I needn't fear; it would
+not come round again for another year. This information was given me
+apropos of that surprising interruption of one's relations with the
+laundress which is apparently characteristic of the period. I was told
+that all the washerwomen were drunk, and that, as it would take them
+some time to revive, I must not look for a speedy resumption of these
+relations. I shall not forget the impression made upon me by this
+statement; I had just come from Paris and it almost sent me spinning
+back. One of the incidental _agr�ments_ of life in the latter city had
+been the knock at my door on Saturday evenings of a charming young woman
+with a large basket covered with a snowy napkin on her arm, and on her
+head a frilled and fluted muslin cap which was an irresistible
+advertisement of her art. To say that my admirable _blanchisseuse_ was
+_sober_ is altogether too gross a compliment; but I was always grateful
+to her for her russet cheek, her frank, expressive eye, her talkative
+smile, for the way her charming cap was poised upon her crisp, dense
+hair and her well-made dress was fitted to her well-made waist. I talked
+with her; I _could_ talk with her; and as she talked she moved about and
+laid out her linen with a delightful modest ease. Then her light step
+carried her off again, talking, to the door and with a brighter smile
+and an "Adieu, monsieur!" she closed it behind her, leaving one to think
+how stupid is prejudice and how poetic a creature a washerwoman may be.
+London, in December, was livid with sleet and fog, and against this
+dismal background was offered me the vision of a horrible old woman in
+a smoky bonnet, lying prone in a puddle of whisky! She seemed to assume
+a kind of symbolic significance, and she almost frightened me away.
+
+I mention this trifle, which is doubtless not creditable to my
+fortitude, because I found that the information given me was not
+strictly accurate and that at the end of three months I had another
+array of London Sundays to face. On this occasion however nothing
+occurred to suggest again the dreadful image I have just sketched,
+though I devoted a good deal of time to observing the manners of the
+lower orders. From Good Friday to Easter Monday, inclusive, they were
+very much _en �vidence_, and it was an excellent occasion for getting an
+impression of the British populace. Gentility had retired to the
+background and in the West End all the blinds were lowered; the streets
+were void of carriages and well-dressed pedestrians were rare; but the
+"masses" were all abroad and making the most of their holiday, and I
+strolled about and watched them at their gambols. The heavens were most
+unfavorable, but in an English "outing" there is always a margin left
+for a drenching, and throughout the vast smoky city, beneath the
+shifting gloom of the sky the grimy crowds trooped about with a kind of
+weather-proof stolidity. The parks were full of them, the railway
+stations overflowed and the Thames embankment was covered. The "masses,"
+I think, are usually an entertaining spectacle, even when observed
+through the glutinous medium of London bad weather. There are indeed few
+things in their way more impressive than a dusky London holiday; it
+suggests a variety of reflections. Even looked at superficially the
+British capital is one of the most interesting of cities, and it is
+perhaps on such occasions as this that I have most felt its interest.
+London is ugly, dusky, dreary, more destitute than any European city of
+graceful and decorative incident; and though on festal days, like those
+I speak of, the populace is massed in large numbers at certain points,
+many of the streets are empty enough of human life to enable you to
+perceive their intrinsic hideousness. A Christmas Day or a Good Friday
+uncovers the ugliness of London. As you walk along the streets, having
+no fellow-pedestrians to look at, you look up at the brown brick
+house-walls, corroded with soot and fog, pierced with their straight
+stiff window-slits and finished, by way of a cornice, with a little
+black line resembling a slice of curb-stone. There is not an accessory,
+not a touch of architectural fancy, not the narrowest concession to
+beauty. If I were a foreigner it would make me rabid; being an
+Anglo-Saxon I find in it what Thackeray found in Baker street--a
+delightful proof of English domestic virtue, of the sanctity of the
+British home. There are miles and miles of these edifying monuments, and
+it would seem that a city made up of them should have no claim to that
+larger effectiveness of which I just now spoke. London, however, is not
+made up of them; there are architectural combinations of a statelier
+kind, and the impression moreover does not rest on details. London is
+picturesque in spite of details--from its dark-green, misty parks, the
+way the light comes down leaking and filtering from its cloudy skies,
+and the softness and richness of tone which objects put on in such an
+atmosphere as soon as they begin to recede. Nowhere is there such a play
+of light and shade, such a struggle of sun and smoke, such a�rial
+gradations and confusions. To eyes addicted to the picturesque this is a
+constant entertainment, and yet this is only part of it. What completes
+the effect of the place is its appeal to the feelings, made in so many
+ways, but made above all by agglomerated immensity. At any given point
+London looks huge; even in narrow corners you have a sense of its
+hugeness, and petty places acquire a certain interest from their being
+parts of so mighty a whole. Nowhere, else is so much human life gathered
+together and nowhere does it press upon you with so many suggestions.
+These are not all of an exhilarating kind; far from it. But they are of
+every possible kind, and this is the interest of London. Those that were
+most forcible during the showery Easter season were certain of the more
+perplexing and depressing ones; but even with these was mingled a
+brighter strain.
+
+I walked down to Westminster Abbey on Good Friday afternoon--walked from
+Piccadilly across the Green Park and through St. James's Park. The parks
+were densely filled with the populace--the elder people shuffling about
+the walks and the poor little smutty-faced children sprawling over the
+dark damp turf. When I reached the Abbey I found a dense group of people
+about the entrance, but I squeezed my way through them and succeeded in
+reaching the threshold. Beyond this it was impossible to advance, and I
+may add that it was not desirable. I put my nose into the church and
+promptly withdrew it. The crowd was terribly compact and, beneath the
+Gothic arches, the odor was not that of incense. I slowly eliminated
+myself, with that very modified sense of disappointment that one feels
+in London at being crowded out of a place. This is a frequent
+disappointment, for you very soon find out that there are, selfishly
+speaking, too many people. Human life is cheap; your fellow-mortals are
+too plentiful. Whereever you go you make the observation. Go to the
+theatre, to a concert, to an exhibition, to a reception; you always find
+that, before you arrive, there are people enough on the field. You are a
+tight fit in your place wherever you find it; you have too many
+companions and competitors. You feel yourself at times in danger of
+thinking meanly of the human personality; numerosity, as it were,
+swallows up quality, and such perpetual familiarity contains the germs
+of contempt. This is the reason why the perfection of luxury in England
+is to own a "park"--an artificial solitude. To get one's self into the
+middle of a few hundred acres of oak-studded turf and to keep off the
+crowd by the breadth, at least, of this grassy cincture, is to enjoy a
+comfort which circumstances make peculiarly precious. But I walked back
+through the parks in the midst of these "circumstances," and I found
+that entertainment which I never fail to derive from a great English
+assemblage. The English are, to my eyes, so much the handsomest people
+in Europe that it takes some effort of the imagination to believe that
+the fact requires proof. I never see a large number of them without this
+impression being confirmed; though I hasten to add that I have sometimes
+felt it to be woefully shaken in the presence of a small number. I
+suspect that a great English crowd would yield a larger percentage of
+handsome faces and figures than any other. With regard to the upper
+class I imagine this is generally granted; but I should extend it to the
+whole people. Certainly, if the English populace strike the observer by
+their good looks they must be very good-looking indeed. They are as
+ill-dressed as their betters are well-dressed, and their garments have
+that sooty-looking surface which has nothing in common with some forms
+of ragged picturesqueness. It is the hard prose of misery--an ugly and
+hopeless imitation of respectable attire. This is especially noticeable
+in the battered and bedraggled bonnets of the women, which look as if
+their husbands had stamped on them in hobnailed boots, as a hint of what
+is in store for their wearers. Then it is not too much to say that
+two-thirds of the London faces, among the "masses," bear in some degree
+or other the traces of liquor, which is not a beautifying fluid. The
+proportion of flushed, empurpled, eruptive countenances is very
+striking; and the ugliness of the sight is not diminished by the fact
+that many of the faces thus disfigured were evidently once handsome. A
+very large allowance is to be made, too, for the people who bear the
+distinctive stamp of that physical and mental degradation which comes
+from the slums and purlieus of this dusky Babylon--the pallid, stunted,
+misbegotten and in every way miserable figures. These people swarm in
+every London crowd, and I know of none in any other place that suggest
+an equal degree of misery. But when these abatements are made, the
+observer is still liable to be struck by the frequency of well-modeled
+faces and bodies well put together; of strong, straight brows and
+handsome mouths and noses, of rounded, finished chins and well-poised
+heads, of admirable complexions and well-disposed limbs.
+
+All this, I admit, is a description of the men rather than of the women;
+but to a certain extent it includes the women. There is much more beauty
+among English women of the lower class than strangers who are accustomed
+to dwell upon their "coarseness" recognize. Pretty heads, pretty mouths
+and cheeks and chins, pretty eyes too, if you are content with a
+moderate brilliancy, and at all events charming complexions--these seem
+to me to be presented in a very sufficient abundance. The capacity of an
+Englishwoman for being handsome strikes me as unlimited, and even if (I
+repeat) it is in the luxurious class that it is most freely exercised,
+yet among the daughters of the people one sees a great many fine points.
+Among the men fine points are strikingly numerous--especially among the
+younger ones. Now the same distinction is to be made--the gentlemen are
+certainly handsomer than the vulgarians. But taking one young Englishman
+with another, they are physically very well appointed. Their features
+are finished, composed, as it were, more harmoniously than those of many
+of their nearer and remoter neighbors, and their figures are apt to be
+both powerful and compact. They present to view very much fewer
+accidental noses and inexpressive mouths, fewer sloping shoulders and
+ill-planted heads of hair, than their American kinsmen. Speaking always
+from the sidewalk, it may be said that as the spring increases in London
+and the symptoms of the season multiply, the beautiful young men who
+adorn the West-End pavements, and who advance before you in couples,
+arm-in-arm, fair-haired, gray-eyed, athletic, slow-strolling, ambrosial,
+are among the most brilliant features of the brilliant period. I have it
+at heart to add that if the English are handsomer than ourselves, they
+are also very much uglier. Indeed I think that all the European peoples
+are uglier than the American; we are far from producing those
+magnificent types of facial eccentricity which flourish among older
+civilizations. American ugliness is on the side of physical poverty and
+meanness; English on that of redundancy and monstrosity. In America
+there are few grotesques; in England there are many--and some of them
+are almost handsome!
+
+The element of the grotesque was very noticeable to me in the most
+striking collection of the shabbier English types that I had seen since
+I came to London. The occasion of my seeing them was the funeral of Mr.
+George Odger, which befell some four or five weeks before the Easter
+period. Mr. George Odger, it will be remembered, was an English radical
+agitator, of humble origin, who had distinguished himself by a perverse
+desire to get into Parliament. He exercised, I believe, the useful
+profession of shoemaker, and he knocked in vain at the door that opens
+but to golden keys. But he was a useful and honorable man, and his own
+people gave him an honorable burial. I emerged accidentally into
+Piccadilly at the moment they were so engaged, and the spectacle was one
+I should have been sorry to miss. The crowd was enormous, but I managed
+to squeeze through it and to get into a hansom cab that was drawn up
+beside the pavement, and here I looked on as from a box at the play.
+Though it was a funeral that was going on I will not call it a tragedy;
+but it was a very serious comedy. The day happened to be
+magnificent--the finest of the year. The funeral had been taken in hand
+by the classes who are socially unrepresented in Parliament, and it had
+the character of a great popular "manifestation." The hearse was
+followed by very few carriages, but the cort�ge of pedestrians stretched
+away in the sunshine, up and down the classic gentility of Piccadilly,
+on a scale that was highly impressive. Here and there the line was
+broken by a small brass band--apparently one of those bands of itinerant
+Germans that play for coppers beneath lodging-house windows; but for the
+rest it was compactly made up of what the newspapers call the dregs of
+the population. It was the London rabble, the metropolitan mob, men and
+women, boys and girls, the decent poor and the indecent, who had
+scrambled into the ranks as they gathered them up on their passage, and
+were making a sort of solemn spree of it. Very solemn it all
+was--perfectly proper and undemonstrative. They shuffled along in an
+interminable line, and as I looked at them out of the front of my hansom
+I seemed to be having a sort of panoramic view of the under side, the
+wrong side, of the London world. The procession was filled with figures
+which seemed never to have "shown out," as the English say, before; of
+strange, pale, mouldy paupers who blinked and stumbled in the Piccadilly
+sunshine. I have no space to describe them more minutely, but I found in
+the whole affair something memorable. My impression rose not simply from
+the radical, or as I may say for the sake of color, the revolutionary,
+emanation of this dingy concourse, lighted up by the ironical sky; but
+from the same causes that I had observed a short time before, on the day
+the queen went to open Parliament, when in Trafalgar Square, looking
+straight down into Westminster and over the royal cort�ge, were gathered
+a group of banners and festoons, inscribed in big staring letters with
+mottoes and sentiments which a sensitive police-department might easily
+have found seditious. They were mostly in allusion to the Tichborne
+claimant, whose release from his dungeon they peremptorily demanded, and
+whose cruel fate was taken as a pretext for several sweeping reflections
+on the social arrangements of the time and country. These portentous
+standards were allowed to sun themselves as freely as if they had been
+the manifestoes of the Irish Giant or the Oriental Dwarf at a fair. I
+had lately come from Paris, where the police-department _is_ sensitive,
+and where revolutionary placards are not observed to adorn the base of
+the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. I was, therefore, the more
+struck on both of the occasions I speak of with the admirable English
+practice of letting people alone--with the good sense and the good humor
+and even the good promise of it. It was this that I found impressive as
+I watched the "manifestation" of Mr. Odger's underfed partisans--the
+fact that the mighty mob could march along and do its errand, while the
+excellent quiet policemen stood by simply to see that the channel was
+kept clear and comfortable.
+
+When Easter Monday came it was obvious that every one (save Mr. Odger's
+friends--three or four million or so) had gone out of town. There was
+hardly a pair of shutters in the West End that was not closed; there was
+not a bell that it was any use to pull. The weather was detestable, the
+rain incessant, and the fact that all one's friends were away gave one
+plenty of leisure to reflect that the country must be the reverse of
+enlivening. But all one's friends had gone thither (this is the
+unanimity I began by talking about), and to keep down as much as
+possible the proportions of that game of hide-and-seek of which, at the
+best, so much of London social life consists, it seemed wise to bring
+within the limits of the dull season any such excursion as one might
+have projected in commemoration of the first days of spring. After due
+cogitation I paid a little visit to Canterbury and Dover, taking
+Rochester by the way, and it was of this momentous journey that I
+proposed, in beginning these remarks, to give an account. But I have
+dallied so much by the way that I have come almost to my rope's end
+without reaching my first stage. I should have begun, artistically, by
+relating that I put myself in the humor for remote adventure by going
+down the Thames on a penny steamboat to--the Tower! This was on the
+Saturday before Easter and the City was as silent as the grave. The
+Tower was a memory of my childhood, and having a theory, that from such
+memories the dust of the ages had better not be shaken, I had not
+retraced my steps to its venerable walls. But the Tower is very
+good--much less cockneyfied than I supposed it would seem to my maturer
+vision; very vast and grand, historical and romantic. I could not get
+into it, as it had been closed for Passion Week, but I was thus relieved
+from the obligation to march about with a dozen fellow-starers in the
+train of a didactic beef-eater, and I strolled at will through the
+courts and the garden, sharing them only with the lounging soldiers of
+the garrison, who made the place more picturesque. At Rochester I
+stopped for the sake of its castle, which I spied from the
+railway-train, perched on a grassy bank beside the widening Medway.
+There were other reasons as well; the place has a small cathedral, and
+one has read about it in Dickens, who lived during the latter years of
+his life at Gadshill, a couple of miles from the town. All this Kentish
+country, between London and Dover, figures indeed repeatedly in Dickens;
+he is to a certain extent, for our own time, the _genius loci_. I found
+this to be quite the case at Rochester. I had occasion to go into a
+little shop kept by a talkative old woman who had a photograph of
+Gadshill lying on her counter. This led to my asking her whether the
+illustrious master of the house often made his appearance in the town.
+"Oh, bless you, sir," she said, "we every one of us knew him to speak
+to. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday with a party of
+foreigners--as he was dead in his bed on the Friday. He 'ad on his black
+velvet suit, and it always made him look so 'andsome. I said to my
+'usband, 'I _do_ think Charles Dickens looks so nice in that black
+velvet suit.' But he said he couldn't see as he looked any way
+particular. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday, with a party of
+foreigners." Rochester consists of little more than one long street,
+stretching away from the castle and the river toward neighboring
+Chatham, and edged with low brick houses, of intensely provincial
+aspect, most of which have some small, dull quaintness of gable or
+casement. Nearly opposite to the shop of the old lady with the
+dissentient husband is a little dwelling with an inscribed slab set into
+its face, which must often have provoked a smile in the great master of
+laughter. The slab relates that in the year 1579 Richard Watts here
+established a charity which should furnish "six poor travelers, not
+rogues or proctors," one night's lodging and entertainment gratis and
+four pence in the morning to go on their way withal, and that in memory
+of his "munificence" the stone has lately been renewed. The inn at
+Rochester was poor, and I felt strongly tempted to knock at the door of
+Mr. Watts's asylum, under plea of being neither a rogue nor a proctor.
+The poor traveler who avails himself of the testamentary four pence may
+easily resume his journey as far as Chatham without breaking his
+treasure. Is not this the place where little Davy Copperfield slept
+under a cannon on his journey from London to Dover, to join his aunt,
+Miss Trotwood? The two towns are really but one, which forms an
+interminable crooked thoroughfare, crowded, in the dusk, as I measured
+it up and down, with specimens of the British soldier from the large
+garrison at Chatham; those trim and firmly-pacing red-coats who seem, to
+eyes accustomed to the promiscuous continental levies, so picked and
+disciplined, polished and pomatumed, such ornamental and yet after all,
+such capable warriors.
+
+The cathedral at Rochester is small and plain, hidden away in rather an
+awkward corner, without a verdant close to set it off. It is dwarfed and
+effaced by the great square Norman keep of the adjacent castle. But
+within it is very charming, especially beyond the detestable wall, the
+vice of almost all the English cathedrals, which shuts in the choir and
+breaks that long vista so properly of the very essence of a great
+church. Here, as at Canterbury, you ascend a high range of steps to pass
+through the small door in this wall. When I speak slightingly, by the
+way, of the outside of Rochester cathedral, I intend my faint praise in
+a relative sense. If we were so happy as to possess this inferior
+edifice in America, we should go barefoot to see it; but here it stands
+in the great shadow of Canterbury, and that makes it humble. I remember,
+however, an old priory gateway which leads you to the church, out of the
+main street; I remember something in the way of a quiet, weird deanery
+or canonry, at the base of the eastern walls; I remember a fluted tower
+that took the afternoon light and let the rooks and the swallows come
+circling and clamoring around it. Better than these things, however, I
+remember the ivy-draped mass of the castle--a most noble and imposing
+ruin. The old walled precinct has been converted into a little public
+garden, with flowers and benches, and a pavilion for a band, and the
+place was not empty, as such places in England never are. The result is
+agreeable, but I believe the process was barbarous, involving the
+destruction and dispersion of many interesting portions of the ruin. I
+sat there for a long time, however, looking in the fading light at what
+was left. This rugged pile of Norman masonry will be left when a great
+many solid things have departed; it is a sort of satire on destruction
+or decay. Its walls are fantastically thick; their great time-bleached
+expanses and all their rounded roughnesses, their strange mixture of
+softness and grimness, have an indefinable fascination for the eye.
+English ruins always come out peculiarly when the day begins to fade.
+Weather-bleached, as I say they are, they turn even paler in the
+twilight and grow consciously solemn and spectral. I have seen many a
+mouldering castle, but I remember no single mass of ruin more impressive
+than this towering square of Rochester.
+
+It is not the absence of a close that damages Canterbury; the cathedral
+stands amid grass and trees, with a great garden sweep all round it, and
+is placed in such a way that, as you pass out from under the gate-house,
+you appreciate immediately its grand feature--its extraordinary and
+magnificent length. None of the English cathedrals seems more
+beautifully isolated, more shut up to itself. It is a long walk beneath
+the walls from the gateway of the close to the far outer end of the last
+chapel. Of all that there is to observe in this upward-gazing stroll I
+can give no detailed account; I can speak only of the general
+impression. This is altogether delightful. None of the rivals of
+Canterbury have a more complicated and elaborate architecture, a more
+perplexing intermixture of periods, a more charming jumble of Norman
+arches and English points and perpendiculars. What makes the side-view
+superb, moreover, is the double transepts, which produce a fine
+modification of gables and buttresses. It is as if two great churches
+had joined forces toward the middle--one giving its nave and the other
+its choir, and each keeping its own great cross-aisles. Astride of the
+roof, between them, sits a huge Gothic tower, which is one of the latest
+portions of the building, though it looks like one of the earliest, so
+crumbled and blunted and mellowed is it by time and weather. Like the
+rest of the structure it has a magnificent color--a sort of rich dull
+yellow, a something that is neither brown nor gray. This is particularly
+appreciable from the cloister on the farther side of the church--the
+side, I mean, away from the town and the open garden-sweep I spoke of;
+the side that looks toward a damp old deanery lurking behind a brown
+archway, through which you see young ladies in Gainsborough hats playing
+something on a patch of velvet turf; the side, in short, that is somehow
+intermingled with a green quadrangle which serves as a play-ground to a
+King's School, which is adorned externally with a most precious and
+picturesque old fragment of Norman staircase. This cloister is not "kept
+up;" it is very dusky and mouldy and dilapidated, and of course very
+picturesque. The old black arches and capitals are various and handsome,
+and in the centre are tumbled together a group of crooked gravestones,
+themselves almost buried in the deep soft grass. Out of the cloister
+opens the chapter-house, which is not kept up either, but which is none
+the less a magnificent structure; a noble lofty hall, with a beautiful
+wooden roof, simply arched like that of a tunnel, and very grand and
+impressive from its great sweep and its absence of columns, brackets or
+supports of any kind. The place is now given up to dust and echoes; but
+it looks more like a banqueting-hall than a council-room of priests, and
+as you sit on the old wooden bench, which, raised on two or three steps,
+runs round the base of the four walls, you may gaze up and make out the
+faint, ghostly traces of decorative paint and gold upon the noble
+ceiling. A little patch of this has been restored, "to give an idea."
+From one of the angles of the cloister you are recommended by the verger
+to take a view of the great tower, which indeed detaches itself with
+tremendous effect. You see it base itself upon the roof as broadly as if
+it were striking roots in earth, and then pile itself away to a height
+which seems to make the very swallows dizzy, as they fall twittering
+down its shafted sides. Within the cathedral you hear a great deal, of
+course, about poor Thomas A'Becket, and the great sensation of the place
+is to stand on the particular spot where he was murdered and look down
+at a small fragmentary slab which the verger points out to you as a bit
+of the pavement that caught the blood-drops of the struggle. It was late
+in the afternoon when I first entered the church; there had been a
+service in the choir, but it was well over and I had the place to
+myself. The verger, who had some pushing about of benches to attend to,
+turned me into the locked gates and left me to wander through the
+side-aisles of the choir and into the great chapel beyond it. I say I
+had the place to myself; but it would be more decent to affirm that I
+shared it, in particular, with another gentleman. This personage was
+stretched upon a couch of stone, beneath a quaint old canopy of wood;
+his hands were crossed upon his breast and his pointed toes rested upon
+a little griffin or leopard. He was a very handsome fellow and the image
+of a gallant knight. His name was Edward Plantagenet and his sobriquet
+was the Black Prince. "_De la mort ne pensai-je mye_," he says in the
+beautiful inscription embossed upon the bronze base of his image; and I
+too, as I stood there, thought not a whit of death. His bones were in
+the pavement beneath my feet, but within his rigid bronze his life
+burned fresh and strong. Simple, handsome and expressive, it is a
+singularly striking and even touching monument, and in the silent, empty
+chapel which had held together for so many ages this last remnant of his
+presence it was possible to feel a certain personal nearness to him.
+One had been farther off, after all, from other examples of that British
+valor of which he is the most picturesque type. In this same chapel for
+many a year stood the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury, one of the
+richest and most potent in Christendom. The pavement which lay before it
+has kept its place, but Henry VIII. swept everything else away into the
+limbo of his ransacked abbeys and his murdered wives. Becket was
+originally buried in the crypt of the church; his ashes lay there for
+fifty years, and it was only little by little that his martyrdom was, as
+the French say, "exploited." Then he was transplanted into the Lady
+Chapel; every grain of his dust became a priceless relic and the
+pavement was hollowed by the knees of pilgrims. It was on this errand of
+course that Chaucer's story-telling cavalcade came to Canterbury. I made
+my way down into the crypt, which is a magnificent maze of low, dark
+arches and pillars, and groped about till I found the place where the
+frightened monks had first shuffled the inanimate victim of Moreville
+and Fitzurse out of the reach of further desecration. While I stood
+there a violent thunder-storm broke over the cathedral; great rumbling
+gusts and rain-drifts came sweeping through the open sides of the crypt,
+and, mingling with the darkness which seemed to deepen and flash in
+corners, and with the potent mouldy smell, made me feel as if I had
+descended into the very bowels of history. I emerged again, but the
+rain had settled down and spoiled the evening, and I splashed back to my
+inn and sat in a chair by the coffee-room fire, reading Dean Stanley's
+agreeable "Memorials" of Canterbury, and wondering over the musty
+appointments and meagre resources of English hostels. This establishment
+had entitled itself (in compliment to the Black Prince, I suppose), the
+"Fleur-de-Lis." The name was very pretty (I had been foolish enough to
+let it take me to the inn), but the lily was sadly deflowered. I found
+compensation at Dover, however, where the "Lord Warden" Hotel struck me
+as the best inn I had encountered in England. My principal errand at
+Dover was to look for Miss Betsey Trotwood's cottage, but I am sorry to
+say I failed to discover it. Was it not upon the downs, overlooking the
+town and the sea? I saw nothing on the downs but Dover Castle, which, in
+default of Miss Trotwood's stronghold, I zealously visited. It is an
+establishment of quite the same character, bristling with offensive and
+defensive machinery. More seriously speaking, it is a magnificent
+fortress--a bequest of the Middle Ages turned to excellent account by
+modern engineers. The day was clear and beautiful, and I walked about
+for a while among the towers and the grassy bastions; then I stood and
+gossiped with an amiable gunner who talked to me of Malta, leaning
+against the rampart and looking across the wrinkled sea to the
+glimmering cliffs of France.
+
+                                    HENRY JAMES, JR.
+
+
+
+
+THE ELIXIR.
+
+
+    "Oh brew me a potion strong and good!
+      One golden drop in his wine
+    Shall charm his sense and fire his blood,
+      And bend his will to mine."
+
+    Poor child of passion! ask of me
+      Elixir of death or sleep,
+    Or Lethe's stream; but love is free,
+      And woman must wait and weep.
+
+                      EMMA LAZARUS.
+
+
+
+
+L�ONIE REGNAULT: A STUDY FROM FRENCH LIFE.
+
+
+In the pretty town of Macon, on the banks of the Sa�ne, lived L�onie
+Regnault. She remembered no other home than the gray stone house with
+its balconied windows that overlooked the beautiful river and the long,
+somewhat formal promenades that stretch along its banks, with their
+green trees and many seats, but never a blade of grass--all dry,
+hard-beaten gravel, after the ugly French fashion, convenient enough, it
+must be confessed, for the evening loungers, gay or tired, whom the dewy
+green of Nature might incommode.
+
+L�onie's father lived in Paris, and he had brought her when only three
+years old to the gray stone house and the care of his only sister,
+Madame Perrin, a childless widow, who gladly received the beautiful
+little girl to the large shelter of a loving heart. But L�onie never
+forgot her father. The little creature would sit on her low-cushioned
+chair and sing to herself, "Mon beau papa! mon beau papa! O comme je
+t'aime, mon beau papa!" I suppose every tender father appears beautiful
+to his little child, but Colonel Regnault was indeed a strikingly
+handsome man, with a perfect grace and dignity of manner which rendered
+him indispensable to the court of Louis Napoleon, where he had a
+prominent position on all days of ceremony. Once or twice a year he made
+his escape from court duties for a brief visit to L�onie, whose love for
+him grew more intense with years, concentrating in itself all the
+romance of her enthusiastic nature.
+
+Madame Perrin saw few visitors, and scarcely ever went out except to
+mass. Every morning her good Louise took L�onie to the girls' school in
+the old stone mansion which had once been the home of Lamartine, and
+went every evening to conduct her home again. Of course, L�onie had her
+inseparable friend, as what school-girl has not, and few lovers are so
+devoted to each other as were L�onie Regnault and H�l�ne Dupr�s. They
+sat side by side every day in school, and out of school wrote each other
+long letters, of which they were generally themselves the bearers. Life
+seems so rich and inexhaustible when it is new--the merest nothing has
+its poem and history. They had made their first communion together,
+which was the most important incident hitherto in L�onie's uneventful
+life. Her father had come down on this occasion, and when she came from
+the altar he had put aside her white veil and kissed her with tears in
+his eyes.
+
+L�onie had completed her fifteenth year when she was thrown into great
+excitement by an unexpected piece of news. Her father was about to
+marry. The future Madame Regnault was a young widow of good family and
+large fortune. He had taken this step, he said, for L�onie's sake even
+more than for his own. He wished to have his daughter with him and to
+cultivate her talents; and how could this be done without a home in
+Paris? The marriage would take place early in September, and the first
+week in October he would come for L�onie. He looked forward with delight
+to having a home for his beautiful beloved child.
+
+It was the last week in September. The rain was falling in a dull dreary
+way, as it had been falling all day and almost a week of days.
+
+"I wish it would clear up," said L�onie. "I hate to have everything look
+so dreary just the last week I have to stay."
+
+"Do you ever think, ch�rie, how dull it will be for me when you are
+gone? What shall I do without ma ch�re petite?" asked Madame Perrin
+tenderly.
+
+"And what shall I do without you, ch�re maman? I am afraid I shall not
+like the new mamma that papa has given me. Or perhaps I am only afraid
+that she will not like me. You are my real mother," taking her hand
+caressingly. "I wish I could remember my own mother. Why have you never
+told me anything about her? I have asked you so many times."
+
+"I never was acquainted with your mother. She lived in Paris, you know,
+and I lived here."
+
+"But you have seen her. Was she beautiful? Am I like her?"
+
+"Yes," said Madame Perrin with a little start--"so much like her that it
+frightens me." Then more deliberately, in reply to L�onie's astonished
+eyes, "I mean that it is sad to be reminded of one who is dead."
+
+"Papa must have loved her very much. I remember when I was a little
+girl, and began to wonder why I had not a mother like H�l�ne, you said I
+must never ask papa about her, it would give him so much pain. But now I
+may, now that he has given her place to somebody else."
+
+"By no means, L�onie--less than ever. If your poor father has at last
+succeeded in leaving his sorrow behind him, do you wish to drag him back
+to it, you thoughtless child?"
+
+"Then you must tell me yourself, ma tante. It is very strange that you
+are so unwilling to tell me anything about my pretty mother who died
+when I was almost a baby."
+
+"Why will you be so persistent? I do not like to give you so much pain."
+
+"Why, dear aunt, I shall like to hear about her. It is very sad not to
+have any mother, but I can't feel as distressed about it as if I had
+known and loved her. She is only a beautiful dream to me. I cannot feel
+as I should if you were to die and leave me. You must tell me. I shall
+not let you have any peace till you do. You can't refuse me now, just
+when I am going away."
+
+"Well, if I must, I must," said Madame Perrin with trembling voice.
+"What do I know? It may be for your salvation. The Blessed Virgin grant
+it! Your mother, L�onie, was a great beauty."
+
+"I was sure of it. If I could only have seen her with my dear papa! He
+is so handsome always."
+
+"She was a great singer too."
+
+"I am glad of it. I shall be a singer when I have learned in Paris. I
+care more for the lessons in singing than for anything else in the great
+beautiful city, except being with my own papa."
+
+"But, L�onie, your mother sang in the Grand Opera. She was the best
+singer in France, or in the world perhaps, and everybody was crazy about
+her."
+
+"And so papa married an opera-singer? It is quite a romance."
+
+"He did not marry her."
+
+"Not marry her?" said L�onie with white face and great black, wide-open
+eyes.
+
+"She was married already to one of the singers in the opera, and she
+left him to live with your father."
+
+L�onie's white lips shaped rather than uttered the question, "What did
+he do, the husband?"
+
+"He challenged your father, and, though he was so much his inferior,
+L�on was too generous to hurt his feelings by refusing to fight with him
+after doing him such an injury. He was so good a swordsman that he
+easily disarmed him with only a slight wound."
+
+"This is terrible!" said L�onie. "My father such a wicked man!"
+
+"That is not the way the world looked at it. All the men envied L�on,
+and the women flattered and spoiled him more than ever."
+
+"I hate my father!" cried L�onie with quick, passionate sobs. "No wonder
+my poor mother died. I shall be her avenger: I feel it."
+
+"You do not know what you are saying. Your mother avenged herself. She
+deserted him as she deserted her husband, and you too, my poor child,
+when you were just learning to say 'Mamma.' Poor L�on! he sinned, but he
+suffered too. Be merciful to him, L�onie, as you pray God to be merciful
+to you."
+
+"Is my mother alive?" asked L�onie, shivering.
+
+"No: she died three years ago. Your father never would see her again,
+but when he heard that she was sick and in want (she had entirely lost
+her wonderful voice), he gave her an annuity because she was your
+mother. Father Aubrey used to see her from time to time, and he said
+she was truly penitent before she died."
+
+"Oh, what shall I do? I shall never be happy again--never, never! What
+made you tell me? How could you?" said poor L�onie, wringing her little
+hands and burying her face in the cushions.
+
+"My child, you would hear it sooner or later in that great, wicked city,
+and it is better that you should be prepared. You are beautiful like
+your mother, you will sing like her, and I am so afraid--" here the poor
+little woman broke down and began to cry like L�onie, but less
+violently--"I am so afraid that you will go on the stage and be tempted
+and fall like her. Promise me that you will never sing in the opera,
+L�onie, no matter who urges it, even if it is your father himself."
+
+"I will die first," answered L�onie. "I wish I had never been born."
+
+"Don't tell your father, L�onie," sobbed Madame Perrin; and here the
+conversation ended.
+
+"What's the matter with L�onie?" asked Colonel Regnault the night after
+his arrival. "She looks so pale and languid, and hardly gives me a
+welcome. What ails the child?"
+
+"She has not been quite well for a few days, and I dare say she feels
+sad at leaving H�l�ne and me," replied his sister.
+
+"She'll brighten up when she gets to Paris," said the colonel.
+
+The sorrow of early youth, however violent, is seldom proof against new
+impressions, and this was especially true of one so susceptible and
+mobile as L�onie Regnault. She entered enthusiastically upon her musical
+studies, taking lessons of Madame Viardot and also at the Conservatoire.
+Madame Regnault was a sweet and quiet woman, devotedly attached to her
+husband, and not a little afraid of him. Colonel Regnault, with all his
+urbanity, had a despotic will, extending to the most minute and
+seemingly indifferent things: he was just the kind of man to graduate a
+gentle, loving woman into a saint. The only time I ever dined with
+Madame Regnault I was forced to eat under the cold steel of his clear
+blue eye a plate of those small red shrimps which Parisians think so
+delicious (I could have swallowed spiders with as little effort), and
+afterward quaff a cup of black coffee with its cap of blue flame, which
+reminded me of "Deacon Giles's Distillery," in spite of protest and
+direful headache _in terrorem_; and the colonel thought he was polite to
+me. He chose all madame's gowns: the poor little woman did not venture
+to buy even a ribbon for herself; and from having been one of the most
+elegant women in Paris, she grew at length almost dowdyish; not but that
+her garments were as fresh and as costly as ever, but the brilliant
+colors and conspicuous styles which had suited the opera-singer, and
+which heightened the beauty of L�onie, extinguished the delicate color
+and soft blue eyes of Madame Regnault, and were so little in harmony
+with her person and character as to have almost the effect of a discord
+in music.
+
+A year passed, and her heart was made glad by a dear little son, who was
+named L�on for his father. The little fellow was six weeks old, and his
+mother had scarcely left the nursery, which was a bit of heaven to her,
+when Colonel Regnault startled her from her dream of bliss: "I have
+found just the nurse for the baby, the wife of a small farmer who lives
+close to Rosny Station. She will wean her child and take him. She is
+such a fresh, healthy-looking woman, and everything is so clean and tidy
+in her cottage, that you will be delighted with her, I am sure."
+
+"Oh, L�on, may I not nurse him myself? I cannot give him up to anybody.
+Who will take so good care of my little precious darling as his own
+mother?"
+
+"It is not to be thought of, Cl�mence: it would wear you out. See, you
+are crying now: it shows how weak and nervous you are. Besides, L�onie
+needs you. She is losing already, for nobody plays her accompaniments so
+well as you, and I do not like to have her go to the Conservatoire with
+a bonne when it can be helped: a girl so striking is likely to be
+watched and followed. I never feel safe about her unless you are with
+her. Don't be silly: the baby will be better off in the country."
+
+Madame Regnault was very kind to L�onie: it was impossible for her to be
+otherwise to any one. She was devoted to her for her father's sake: she
+felt a thrill of delight in her beauty, in her wonderful talents; but
+she did not love her. She might have loved her perhaps--though there was
+not much in common between the ardent, high-spirited girl and the
+gentle, patient woman, except, indeed, the taste for music--but it is
+not in nature, and hardly in grace, for a woman thirsting for her
+husband's love to like being always postponed to some one else. Colonel
+Regnault seemed to have no perception of anything but his beautiful
+daughter: his ambition was centred in her even more than his affection.
+L�onie's talent developed rapidly, and his pride was fed by the praises
+of her masters and the more flattering compliments of friends and
+connoisseurs who were present at the musical soir�es given from time to
+time at his own house.
+
+But L�onie did not contribute to the peace of the household. Her aunt
+had not found it out, Madame Regnault never would have discovered it,
+but her father's despotic will roused one equally defiant in her, and
+when they came in contact it was the collision of flint and steel.
+L�onie often carried her point against her father, and he admired her
+only the more for it. The contests were quick and sharp--not very
+frequent, but very unpleasant to Madame Regnault. She grew thin and pale
+and spiritless. She was not yet thirty, and she had aged by half a score
+of years in the year and a half of her marriage.
+
+Her mother, Madame Dumesnil, was indignant at what she considered the
+colonel's neglect of his wife, and mentally threatened to give him "a
+piece of her mind." She had not long to wait for an occasion.
+
+"I am sorry to see Cl�mence looking so ill," said she to him as he
+entered his wife's dressing-room one day a little before breakfast--that
+is to say, about noon.
+
+"I had not noticed that she was ailing," he rejoined with a quick glance
+at his wife.
+
+"It is well that somebody has eyes," continued Madame Dumesnil. "I did
+not expect that my daughter was to become a governess when she married
+you. Her previous life had not prepared her for such arduous duties."
+
+"My wife does not complain," said the colonel haughtily.
+
+"Cl�mence complain! She would not complain if she suffered martyrdom."
+Madame Regnault looked imploringly at her mother, but she went on more
+sternly than before: "If Cl�mence had a spark of spirit she would never
+have had L�onie in the house. It is a shame for her to be made a slave
+to the opera-singer's girl, and I am not the only one who thinks so."
+
+"Pardon me, madame," responded her son-in-law, "the conversation is too
+exciting for me. I have the honor to wish you a good-morning;" and he
+bowed himself out with the most exasperating courtesy.
+
+"Oh, mother, what have you done?" cried Madame Regnault, trembling and
+tearful. "How could you make him so angry?"
+
+"How _could_ I, indeed! I wish I were his wife a little while: he
+wouldn't find it so easy to tyrannize over me. I don't know where you
+got your disposition from: you didn't take it from me, that's certain."
+
+"Jacques," said Colonel Regnault to the porter as he left the house,
+"when Madame Dumesnil calls to see your mistress hereafter, let me know
+it, and remember that I am never at home."
+
+L�onie, though she felt a certain hardness in the manner of Madame
+Dumesnil when she happened to meet her, was wholly unaware of what was
+passing in the heart of Madame Regnault, who had a genuine sympathetic
+interest in the development of her remarkable powers, playing her
+accompaniments unweariedly for hours daily and giving her the benefit of
+her own delicate and highly-cultivated taste. They were happy years for
+L�onie. Her young soul, full of the inspiration and power of genius,
+felt its wings growing. There is an atmosphere of art in Paris which is
+powerfully stimulating to any one of �sthetic tendencies; and how
+exhilarating was this subtle atmosphere to L�onie! The Conservatoire,
+with its seventy professors and its thousand students, its competitions,
+concerts and public exercises, stimulated her zeal and inspired ever
+higher ideals that made close, hard study the play of her fresh and
+delighted faculties. Once a week her father took her to the opera. It
+happened that the first opera she heard was _Faust_, and she sat as if
+in a dream, white and scared, seeming to see in the scenes the spectre
+of her mother. But this impression wore away, and ere many weeks had
+passed her heart dilated, her eyes kindled with the triumphs of the
+singer, and she felt as Correggio when he looked on Raphael's _St.
+Cecilia_ and exclaimed, "I, too, am a painter!"
+
+Thus the days went on, not too slowly, till L�onie had entered her
+nineteenth year and approached the close of her studies. The finest
+concerts of Paris and the most exclusive are those of the Conservatoire,
+six in number, which occur once a fortnight from the middle of January
+to the middle of April. L�onie had often sung in the small concert-hall
+at examinations and private exercises, but now she was to sing in the
+Salle de Spectacle for the celebrated Soci�t� des Concerts. This
+wonderful company is composed mostly of the professors and teachers at
+the Conservatoire, and it is a rare honor for a pupil to sing or play at
+these concerts; but L�onie was a rare pupil, and whatever may be said of
+the jealousy of artists, I hold that true genius always exults in the
+recognition of genius. L�onie sang in each of the six concerts of her
+last year at the Conservatoire, and her singing gave exquisite delight
+to the appreciative listeners: the applause was heart-felt,
+enthusiastic, inspiring. But on the last night her father's rapture and
+pride reached their height. The beautiful concert-hall, so refined and
+classic with its Pompeii-like decorations, was filled with the most
+brilliant audience of a most brilliant city. The symphony had ended, and
+L�onie was to sing some selections from the opera of _Fidelio_. The
+applause which greeted her as she advanced on the stage was perhaps a
+tribute to her superb beauty and perfect grace. She was paler than
+usual, her large black eyes were full of that intense light which only
+emotion gives, but she showed no embarrassment, and felt none. She saw
+not the faces, heard not the plaudits. She was alone with her art. Her
+soul went forth into the song, and one listened in rapture, touched with
+pain that aught so sweet should be so evanescent. When the wonderful
+voice seemed to die like a vanishing soul there was silence for a
+moment--silence most eloquent of eulogies--and then came a burst of
+applause, the most enthusiastic that ever relieved a listener's heart or
+charmed a singer's ear.
+
+The concert ended. Her father, proud and exultant, clasped her in his
+arms. Did he hear the whispers that L�onie's quick ear caught? "Colonel
+Regnault's daughter, the opera-singer's child. You remember that old
+story?"--"Ah, indeed! Wonderfully like her mother: more distinguished
+manner. Something of her father too. Will Regnault let her go on the
+stage, do you think?"--"I cannot tell. Il est fou d'elle. He brings her
+up in his own family."--"Vraiment? Good wife, Madame Regnault." L�onie
+shrank involuntarily from her father's embrace.
+
+The competitive examinations came, and naturally L�onie received the
+highest prize in singing.
+
+"I do not envy you, mademoiselle," said one of the unsuccessful
+candidates with a look and tone that accentuated the sneer: "there are
+other things that people inherit besides their musical talents."
+
+"There will be plenty of spitefulness for your children to inherit,
+whether there is any talent or not," retorted L�onie, her eyes flashing
+with resentful pride. It was the first time that any one had
+deliberately alluded to the taint upon her birth, and it stung.
+
+"I have something to tell you," said her father to L�onie a few days
+after. "The director of the opera has been talking to me about you. He
+is only waiting for my consent to bring you out at the Imperial Opera."
+
+L�onie's face lighted up with a quick gleam of surprise and pleasure,
+which was followed by a sudden terror.
+
+"You may think it strange that I felt any reluctance: you are so young
+that you do not know enough of society to appreciate the objections. Not
+that there are any insuperable objections. In an art-loving community
+like ours the career of a great artist is prouder than a queen's."
+
+The color had faded from L�onie's face, but her father did not notice
+it.
+
+"The empress condescended to speak to me about it to-day. Her Majesty
+has the welfare of the opera very much at heart, and, as she says, one
+is responsible for a talent like yours. It is the rarest of gifts. Why
+not consecrate it to the elevation of art and the delight of the world?
+A vocation for art is as sacred as one for religion, and it would be
+almost a crime in me to hold you back from so manifest a destiny as
+yours. Well, what have you to say, child?" and he looked full into his
+daughter's pale, agitated face. "It is too much for you, my darling: you
+are quite overcome. Think it over and tell me to-morrow night." And he
+kissed her trembling lips with unusual emotion.
+
+L�onie went to her room, but not to sleep. How short was that sleepless
+night, with its whirl of conflicting resolutions, its torrent of
+emotion, its ceaseless panorama of dissolving views! Opera after opera
+unrolled in magical splendor before her eyes, resounded in bursts of
+harmony in her ears and flowed in waves of delicious sweetness into her
+heart. And in all she was queen, and hearts rose and fell at her bidding
+as the ocean-waves beneath the strong and sweet compelling of the moon.
+It was intoxication, but underlying it was the deep satisfaction of a
+soul that has found the true outlet of its highest powers. "All the
+current of her being" surged and eddied into this one career that opened
+so invitingly before her. But she could not say "I will," though she
+wished to do so. The glories faded and another vision came. Her mother
+seemed to lie before her, dying, forsaken, remorseful, sinful. Was it
+her mother? was it herself? "Art thou stronger than I?" asked the
+voiceless lips.--"Yea, I am stronger," replied the soul of L�onie. And
+then a sudden revelation of incipient vanities and weaknesses and pride
+flashed across her consciousness as in the great light of God. L�onie
+shrank away self-abased. "Did my worship of art, which I thought so
+holy, hide all this?" she questioned.
+
+The morning light came faintly through the curtained windows. L�onie
+rose, dressed herself quickly, and calling a bonne went to the Madeleine
+to early mass. After mass she entered the confessional of the
+white-haired father who had been her spiritual guide for the three years
+and a half of her life in Paris. On her return she locked herself into
+her room and passed the day alone.
+
+"Well, my girl," inquired her father in the evening, "what am I to tell
+the director? Have you chosen the opera for your d�but already?"
+
+"I shall never sing in the opera, father."
+
+"Why, what is this, L�onie? If I have got over my scruples, I do not see
+that you need have any. I thought it would be just what you were longing
+for."
+
+"I do long for it," said L�onie firmly, "and therefore I think it is not
+best."
+
+"Don't speak in riddles," rejoined her father angrily. "Do you
+mean to tell me that you are going to throw away your glorious
+possibilities--certainties, I might say--for a whim?"
+
+"Not for a whim, but because it is right."
+
+"It is incomprehensible!" cried the colonel, walking the floor
+excitedly. "Here have you been for years in one rhapsody of music,
+nothing else in life--your mother and I and everything given up to help
+you on--and now, when such a prospect opens before you, a career that a
+princess might envy, when even the empress condescends to solicit
+it--'No, I am not going to sing. I'll throw it all away--my talent, my
+father's wishes.' Oh, it is insufferable! It is just like the perverse
+willfulness of women;" and he turned upon her in a white rage.
+
+L�onie did not quail. "Father," said she, speaking very low, but with
+crystal clearness, "do you wish me to be like my mother?"
+
+Colonel Regnault staggered back. "My poor child," he whispered faintly,
+"who told you that story? Who could have the heart?"
+
+The next day L�onie, with her father's permission, went to Macon to
+spend some weeks with her aunt. Soon after her departure Madame Regnault
+asked, "Now that L�onie is gone, cannot we have the children home?"
+
+"We will bring L�on home," replied her husband. "He is a fine little
+fellow, and will make the house cheerful, but the baby will be better
+off in the country a year longer. We will have him in for a few days if
+you like, and the nurse can come with him."
+
+"I will go out this very afternoon," said the mother. "Jeanne will go
+with me."
+
+"No, my dear, it is too hard a jaunt for you: I will go to-morrow."
+
+"Let me go, L�on: I feel so uneasy about the children. I cannot tell
+why, but it seems as if something was going to happen to them."
+
+"What could happen to them? and what difference will a day make? I am
+glad I am not a woman, to be so anxious about nothing," said the
+colonel, smiling.
+
+About eleven o'clock on the morrow the colonel reached Rosny, and was
+startled as he approached the house by an appearance of unusual stir,
+persons going in and out in a hurried and excited way. He entered. The
+nurse rushed toward him in vehement anguish: "Oh, Colonel Regnault, you
+are here! John has told you. Where is he? Did he not return with you?"
+
+"I have not seen your husband, good woman. What is the matter? Are the
+children ill? I came out for them."
+
+"Oh, I cannot tell him! I cannot tell him!" sobbed the unhappy woman.
+"The dear beautiful babies! It breaks my heart!"
+
+"May God help you to bear it, sir: it is a heavy grief," said an aged
+woman. "The little boys are dead."
+
+"Dead!" cried the heartstricken father--"my children dead! One of them,
+you mean--not both, not both!"
+
+It was true. The baby, a dear little fellow six or seven months old,
+had had for several days a cold which the nurse did not think serious:
+during the night he had been attacked by croup, and about eight o'clock
+in the morning, almost before the doctor had arrived, the child was
+dead. Absorbed in the grief and terror of this sudden death, the nurse
+forgot to mind L�on, and the restless, active child slipped out of the
+house unheeded, and, playing on the railway-track, had been killed by a
+passing train not an hour before his father came for him.
+
+Colonel Regnault's grief was violent and remorseful. "I have killed my
+children," he would say to his pitying friends. "If I had but listened
+to my wife and had them brought up at home! What is the croup with a
+watchful, intelligent mother, and a skillful physician at the very door?
+and how could any accident have happened to L�on here? So many idle
+servants in my house, and my own child to die for lack of care!"
+
+Madame Regnault never knew how L�on died. The little body was not
+mangled: it had been caught and thrown aside by something attached to
+the engine--I do not know exactly how--and the mother was left to
+believe that he had died of sickness like the baby. She bore her sorrow
+with the still meekness consonant with her character, and with wifely
+tenderness exerted herself to soothe her husband's violent grief.
+
+A little later in the summer the war broke out. Colonel Regnault went
+gladly, even rashly, into danger, and found neither death nor wounds,
+but in his anguish for the desolation of his country he made a truce
+with his own remorse.
+
+The last time I was in Paris--which was in 1874--General and Madame
+Regnault called on me at my old friend's, Madame Le Fort's. A charming
+little girl about three years old was with them, a blue-eyed,
+fair-haired child--very beautiful, and as much like her father as a
+little girl can be like a man approaching fifty. I was not surprised to
+see that she was, as her mother said, "une petite fille g�t�e." I
+inquired for L�onie.
+
+"Can you believe that L�onie has not been in Paris since you saw her
+here?" replied her father. "She is a thorough little provincial. She has
+been married more than a year now."
+
+"Ah, I congratulate you! I hope her marriage was pleasing to you," I
+added, as he did not respond immediately.
+
+"Assez. Her husband is a very worthy young man for a
+provincial--Th�ophile Dupr�s, the brother of a little school-friend of
+hers. I went down to the wedding, not to grieve L�onie, but I shall
+never be reconciled to it--never! To think what that girl threw away!
+Such talent! and to have it lost, utterly lost! It is inexplicable.
+Every motive that could influence a girl on the one hand, and--But I
+give it up. Let us not talk of it," he concluded with a little wave of
+his hand, as if dismissing L�onie and all that pertained to her.
+
+But I could not turn my thoughts from her so quickly. Even now, when I
+am, so to speak, in another world, she causes me not a little
+perplexity. Was she right? was she wrong? Can one ever be happy in
+suppressing a great talent? How it strives and agonizes for some
+manifestation of itself! and when it slowly dies, stifled in its living
+grave, must not one feel a bitter regret for having slain the nobler
+part of one's self?
+
+But is it not heresy to doubt that a woman can sacrifice genius for
+love, and be content--yea, glad--with an infinite joy? And why not have
+love and genius too? Alas! most lives are opaque planets, like the earth
+on which they are evolved, and can have only one bright side at a time.
+
+Madame Regnault was little changed: she preserved the old sweet
+gentleness and quiet refinement of manner, but she seemed more at ease
+with her husband, and did not watch so timidly his least gesture.
+Colonel--or rather General--Regnault had changed more. He had grown
+quite gray: he was still a handsome, high-bred gentleman, with the same
+exquisite urbanity of manner, but the disappointment of his ambition for
+L�onie, the anguish which had smitten him for his children's death, and
+the great calamity which had almost crushed France, the idol of every
+Frenchman, had softened and humanized him. He was less like an Apollo
+exulting in his own divinity; and when I marked his tender
+thoughtfulness for his wife, his unwonted appreciation of her lovely
+character, and especially his indulgence of the caprices of little
+Aim�e, who was almost always his companion, I was ready to believe in
+his entire conversion.
+
+But can the Ethiopian change his skin? One morning Madame Le Fort's
+little dressmaker came rushing in in a very excited way: "Mon Dieu! I am
+so glad to get here! Quel homme terrible!"
+
+"What is the matter?" asked madame.
+
+"I have just been trying on Madame Regnault's new costume, the gray
+faille and velvet, you know, that she selected when she came with you.
+It is a charming costume, and she looked sweetly in it. The general came
+in before I got through. 'Do you call that a costume?' he asked in a
+passion. 'It makes her look like a fright. Take it away: never let me
+see it again.' Poor little madame hurried me to get it off. 'Take it
+away! out of the house with it!' cried he as if he were commanding a
+regiment of dragoons.--'I can't take it away,' said I. 'It was made to
+order--madame selected it herself--and you cannot expect me to take it
+back.' I was frightened to death, but I couldn't lose the money, you
+know. The window was open: he seized the unlucky costume, and giving it
+a little whirl, sent it flying out of the window over the balustrade.
+Madame was going to send her maid for it, but no; the wind caught it,
+and away it went out of the court, and where it lighted or who picked it
+up is more than I know, or madame either. It may be a fine thing to be a
+general's wife, but I'd rather be a dressmaker."
+
+And the little dressmaker laughed till she cried to think of madame's
+handsome costume sailing out of the window over the Avenue Haussmann,
+and lighting like a balloon on the head of some lucky or luckless
+passer-by.
+
+                                          MARY E. BLAIR.
+
+
+
+
+PRIMARY AND SECONDARY EDUCATION IN FRANCE.
+
+
+For a long period, France, with her ancient university and her venerable
+scholastic institutions--which after the Renaissance drew to themselves
+the flower of the youth of Europe--may be said to have led the way as
+regards general education. It has only been in modern times that the
+progress made by the Anglo-Saxon and German nations has placed, at all
+events, primary instruction in France somewhat in the rear of other
+countries. As for her system of secondary and superior education, it has
+even within the last few years elicited many expressions of approval
+from foreigners competent to form a judgment on the subject. In the
+following pages we propose giving a succinct account of the actual
+system and position of primary and secondary education in France,
+speaking of what has been done since the close of the war in 1871, and
+of what yet remains to be done.
+
+
+PRIMARY EDUCATION.
+
+The great crying evil in France is the lack of education among the
+poorer classes, who nevertheless, by the democratic constitution of
+their country, are called upon, together with the rich and the middle
+classes, to take their share in the government. This evil is recognized
+in France, and each fresh Assembly meets at Versailles with the
+determination of having primary schools built and of having every child
+taught at least to read and write. But these good intentions are
+terribly hampered by the all-absorbing military appropriations, which,
+swallowing up some 500,000,000 francs annually, do not allow the
+ministers and deputies, well disposed as they are, to appropriate to the
+education of all France a sum much exceeding that expended by the single
+State of Pennsylvania in the same cause. Still, the acknowledgment of
+the existence of the evil is in itself a great step toward remedying it,
+and the France of to-day is making progress in this respect. Before the
+last war, instead of saying with Terence,
+
+    Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto,
+
+the French citizen might rather have cried, "I am a _Frenchman_, and
+that which is not French is foreign to me." A salutary reaction has set
+in since the war, and nothing is more common than to hear Frenchmen
+observe that their country was conquered not by Moltke or Krupp, but
+rather by the German _Schullehrer_.
+
+We shall not enter into the merits of the long-standing dispute in
+France as to the superiority of secular or of clerical education. The
+parable of the mote and the beam might probably be applicable to both
+parties, but no impartial observer can fail to recognize that the
+triumph of Romanism in France, consequent upon the Revocation of the
+Edict of Nantes, has formed one of the chief obstacles to the
+development of public education in that country. Huss, Luther,
+Calvin--in a word, all the leaders of the Reformation--inculcated the
+sacred duty devolving upon every man of reading the Bible for himself in
+his own tongue. Hence we now find education far more advanced in
+Protestant than in Catholic countries--a fact which has not a little
+contributed to the decadence of the Latin races. Richelieu, who held
+that a hungry people was the most submissive, was also of opinion that
+an ignorant people obeyed the most readily. Louis XIV. and Louis XV.,
+without saying as much, acted up to the cardinal's maxim, doing
+absolutely nothing for popular education. The instruction of the upper
+classes was at that time in the hands of religious societies or
+_congr�gations_. The Revolution, displaying its usual iconoclastic zeal,
+upset this system, without reflecting for a moment that it might be as
+well to substitute some other system for it, and that it takes time to
+organize a body of teachers fit to undertake such a work. The
+Convention decreed that those parents should be punished who did not
+send their children to school, overlooking the fact that there were no
+schools to send them to. It proclaimed gratuitous instruction, but made
+no provision for the salaries of the teachers. These hastily instituted
+reforms were eminently characteristic of the feverish excitement amidst
+which matters affecting the most serious interests of the nation were
+disposed of. The First Empire and the Restoration saw but little done on
+behalf of primary education. Under Louis Philippe the question of
+gratuitous instruction and compulsory attendance got no farther,
+notwithstanding the fact of such men being in power as Victor Cousin,
+Villemain and Guizot.
+
+The efforts of Jules Simon and of Barth�lemy Saint-Hilaire to have the
+question settled by the Republican government in 1848 proved futile.
+Napoleon III., having found 44,000 schools in France at the commencement
+of his reign, left it with 54,000 at its close--a most insignificant
+rate of increase, as regards primary instruction, compared with the
+advances made in the same direction by foreign nations, and with the
+material progress of France itself during those eighteen eventful years.
+The Third Republic has, as was observed above, given to the question of
+education a prominent place among the reforms to be instituted. Scarcely
+had the most pressing financial and military questions been dealt with
+ere a searching examination into the educational system of the country
+was undertaken and its defects laid bare. In a report on primary and
+secondary education in different countries, read by M. Levasseur before
+the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences on the 29th of May, 1875, he
+establishes the fact that out of forty-five nations whose educational
+statistics he had examined, France only occupies the twentieth
+place--naturally a somewhat humiliating admission for a nation which has
+claimed to be the centre and radiating-point of modern civilization.
+
+The map on which the departments figure tinged with black
+proportionately with the illiteracy of their inhabitants is in mourning
+to a most lamentable extent. It might be taken for the geological map of
+Pennsylvania, with the coal-regions indicated by black patches; and most
+assuredly the Lehigh Valley would appear no darker on such a map than
+does on the chart of ignorance the unfortunate department of the Ari�ge,
+with 66 per cent. of its inhabitants absolutely illiterate. Happily,
+since this map was issued matters have somewhat mended; nevertheless,
+the lack of appreciation of the benefits of education is still very
+noticeable in a large number of the departments.
+
+The village schools are kept up by the communes, aided by contributions
+from the department and from the government. The total annual amount of
+the contributions from these three sources does not exceed 65,000,000
+francs for the whole of France. Deduct from this paltry sum of
+$13,000,000 a certain quota for the construction and keeping in repair
+of school-houses, and it will at once be seen that what remains to be
+divided among the 54,000 teachers is scarcely sufficient to afford them
+even the barest subsistence. The recent reduction of school-teachers'
+salaries throughout the United States has given rise to much unfavorable
+comment, but happy indeed would teachers in France consider themselves
+were they to receive even anything approaching the reduced pay of their
+Transatlantic brethren. Of the school-teachers above spoken of, 26,000
+receive 750 francs ($150) per annum, 14,000 receive 550 francs, and
+10,000 but 450 francs, or less than the common farm-laborer, who has at
+least food and lodging provided for him by his master. True it is that
+many of the teachers receive a slight additional salary for acting as
+secretary at the _mairie_; but a much larger number of them have to eke
+out a scanty subsistence by manual labor during certain hours of the
+day, especially in harvest-time.
+
+As for the school-houses, they are usually in such a dilapidated
+condition that the farmers would scarcely care to use them as
+cattle-sheds. We have visited schools--and they exist by the score, not
+to say by the hundred--without either benches or desks, blackboard or
+maps, and through the roofs of which the rain poured on teachers and
+pupils. On entering one of these schools and seeing the little fellows
+in their torn blouses, their feet simply encased in great wooden sabots,
+their lunch-baskets with coarse bread and a few nuts by their side, the
+stranger can hardly realize that he is in that country where there is a
+more even distribution of property, and where the peasantry are more
+prosperous and conservative, than anywhere else. Among the efforts made
+to improve things may be mentioned the frequent inspections, not only by
+government inspectors, but also by gentlemen called _d�l�gu�s
+cantonaux,_ who are usually chosen from among the landed proprietary of
+the neighborhood by the prefects.
+
+"Paris is not France," is a remark frequently uttered by French
+conservatives, and one which certainly holds good as regards education.
+The department of the Seine actually expends some $6,000,000 annually on
+education, which is something over 46 per cent. of the total expenditure
+for all France under this head. Considering that the population of the
+department of the Seine does not exceed 2,400,000, it will be seen that
+the expenditure there for educational purposes is not inferior to that
+of our own representative States. At the Vienna Exhibition of 1873 it
+may be recollected that Paris, conjointly with Saxony and Sweden, was
+awarded the diploma of honor for primary instruction. This branch of
+education is absolutely gratuitous, and, in view of the experience of
+other countries, is likely to remain so, in spite of the outcry that
+parents able to contribute toward the education of their offspring
+should be compelled to do so. Ink, paper, pens, books, models and maps
+are supplied free of charge to each pupil. During 1876 not less than
+330,000 books, 1,490,000 copy-books and 1,440,000 steel pens were thus
+supplied in the primary schools of the capital. In Paris there are some
+260,000 children of both sexes old enough to go to school. Of this
+number, 104,000 get some kind of education, either at home or at the
+boarding-schools, and 134,000 attend the public schools--either under
+secular or clerical management--and the _salles d'asile_, of which we
+shall presently speak. The great capital thus contains some 22,000
+children who cannot read or write, and this will account for the fact of
+the educational status of the department of the Seine being inferior to
+that of many of the eastern departments, and occupying a far lower place
+on the list than might otherwise have been expected. Up to the age of
+two years the infants of parents too poor to watch over their offspring
+in the daytime are admitted into the _cr�ches_. In these admirable
+private institutions--founded some thirty years ago by M. Marbeau--the
+infants are washed, fed and tended with maternal solicitude. Between the
+ages of two and six years the children are admitted into the _salles
+d'asile_, or children's homes, of which there are over a hundred in
+Paris. There it is first sought to develop the child's intellectual
+faculties, prepare it for school, inculcate habits of cleanliness and
+morality, and instruct it in the rudiments of reading and writing.
+Between the ages of six and fourteen children are admitted into the
+schools, and, nominally at least, go through the plan of study drawn up
+by the board of primary education, and which is as follows: Reading,
+writing, geography, spelling, arithmetic, compendium of sacred and
+French history, linear drawing, singing, the rudiments of physics,
+geometry and natural history, and calligraphy. Were this programme
+carried out in its integrity, education in France would, it need hardly
+be said, be considerably further advanced than it is at present. Even in
+Paris, however, the material obstacles are not slight. Most of the
+schools are far too cramped for space, especially in those wealthy and
+crowded parts of the city between the Rue de Rivoli and the Boulevards,
+for instance, where every foot of ground and every breathing-space are
+worth large sums of money. In a city where the people are so closely
+packed, and where a family is content to live on a flat, how is room to
+be found for spacious, airy school-buildings, with a detached seat and
+desk for each pupil, a large central hall and a play-ground adjoining?
+Such establishments must inevitably cost immense sums of money, but
+Paris, if we may judge by the annual increase in the educational
+appropriations, seems determined not to let this difficulty stand in the
+way of her children obtaining a good education.
+
+A word as to the teachers. The female lay teachers are, it must be
+acknowledged, very greatly inferior to the lady teachers in the United
+States. It is said that in England when a man has failed at everything
+else he becomes a coal-merchant. We should not dream of applying this
+remark to French ladies as regards school-teaching. At the same time, it
+is an established fact that the French girls' schools which are managed
+by nuns, and especially those of the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, are
+far above the other female educational establishments. Most of the male
+lay teachers are appointed from the primary normal schools which exist
+in the chief town of every department; and it is a noteworthy fact that
+the majority of them are ardent Republicans, notwithstanding the fact
+that during the Empire every effort was made to win them over to the
+imperial side. In every normal and primary school was the bust of
+Napoleon, and a liberal distribution took place of the famous _Journal
+des Instituteurs_, every paragraph of which, political or educational,
+was dressed up in Napoleonic attire. Possibly, some of the lay primary
+school-teachers may have adopted republicanism out of a spirit of
+natural opposition to their old adversaries and competitors, the
+_instituteurs congr�ganistes_. Of these, too, a word must be said. While
+in the secondary clerical schools most of the instructors are Jesuits,
+in the primary schools most of the teachers belong to the confraternity
+of the _�cole Chr�tienne_, the members of which, without taking the vows
+and assuming a lifelong engagement, agree nevertheless to remain single,
+to submit to the discipline of the society and to wear the
+ecclesiastical dress. Strict Ultramontanists, these brethren have been
+somewhat unjustly nicknamed the _fr�res Ignorantins_. Living as they do
+in common, with but few wants, and receiving, whenever they require it,
+pecuniary aid from the wealthy party to which they belong, they are
+satisfied with a rate of pay less than one-half that of the lay
+teachers, and are thus preferred in a large number of communes on the
+simple ground of economy. Their plan of instruction is the same as that
+adopted in the secular primary schools, except that religious
+instruction and exercises of course play a larger part with them than
+with their lay brethren. The ultra radicals, who in a large measure
+control the educational appropriations in the town-council, are bitterly
+opposed to any portion of the public instruction remaining in the hands
+of the clerical element, and their most strenuous efforts are used to
+have all these _congregational_ schools of both sexes closed. They would
+concentrate the entire national educational system under the control of
+a body of lay teachers to be paid by the towns and by the state. In
+these views they are supported by the Republican party, while the clergy
+have on their side the majority of the Senate. Whether the absence of
+clerical competition would be likely to prove advantageous or not to the
+secular educational establishments, we shall not attempt to say, but
+certain it is that the long continuance of this bitter feud between the
+two parties has been anything but conducive to the educational progress
+of France.
+
+At the age of fourteen the Parisian youth not intended for one of the
+learned professions leaves school to learn a trade. Should he desire to
+increase his stock of knowledge and have a taste for study, he can,
+after passing an examination, enter the excellent �cole Turgot, wherein
+the programme of the primary schools is somewhat extended, without,
+however, embracing the study of Latin and Greek. At the Turgot the
+course comprises mathematics, linear and ornamental drawing, physics and
+mechanics, chemistry, natural history, calligraphy, bookkeeping, French
+language and literature, history, geography, English and German. All the
+pupils are day scholars. There could probably be no better devised
+programme for developing and exercising the intellectual faculties of
+those who have gone through the primary schools, and it may
+unhesitatingly be affirmed that for most of the pupils the training
+received at the �cole Turgot is of lifelong value.
+
+If a youth aim yet higher, he can apply for admittance at the Coll�ge
+Chaptal, where he may eventually obtain gratuitously a classical
+education, and at its close a university degree. From the Chaptal
+school--the new building devoted to which forms a conspicuous feature on
+the Boulevard des Batignolles--the pupil may, on passing an examination,
+enter either of the two higher colleges, the Central or the Polytechnic.
+Then, too, the Conservatoire des Arts et M�tiers may be looked on in the
+light of a magnificent annex to the schools of primary instruction. The
+idea of such an institution originated with the celebrated mechanician
+of the last century, Vaucanson, who bequeathed to the government his
+splendid collection of models, drawings, tools, machines and automatons.
+The Convention decreed the establishment of the Conservatoire, which now
+contains some 12,000 models in its industrial museum. Among them may be
+mentioned Pascal's arithmetical machine, Lavoisier's instruments, the
+first highway locomotive constructed by Cugniot in 1770, a lock forged
+by Louis XVI., clocks and watches of historic interest, and those
+patents which have run out by lapse of time. The machinery is set in
+motion at certain hours of the day, during which the public is admitted
+free. The library, rich in works of science, art and industry, is always
+open. In the evening there are gratuitous lectures delivered by men of
+science on such subjects as geometry, mechanics and chemistry applied to
+the arts, industrial and agricultural chemistry, agriculture,
+spinning-looms, dyeing, etc. The Conservatoire turns out the best
+foremen and heads of workshops to be found in Paris. It occupies the
+fine old building once used as the abbey of St. Martin des Champs, which
+has been tastefully restored in the original style, and takes up one of
+the sides of a handsome square laid out with flowers and fountains.
+
+Nor must we pass over entirely unnoticed the admirable gratuitous
+lectures given by the Polytechnic Association--_not_ the Polytechnic
+School--on such subjects as hygiene, linear drawing, French grammar,
+bookkeeping and geometry. These lectures are held in some twenty
+different buildings, so as to be within the reach of the
+working-classes, no matter what part of Paris they may reside in. Among
+the lecturers in recent years are to be found such names as those of
+Ferdinand de Lesseps, Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Barral and Batbie.
+
+We have thus rapidly seen what Paris does for her poor youth. The city
+has often been called the focus of light and the centre of intelligence.
+Without going quite so far as this, it must nevertheless be acknowledged
+that with her public schools, her splendid libraries, her museums, her
+natural history and art collections, and her very numerous and valuable
+institutions open free to all, Paris affords unusual facilities for
+boys, taken even from the lowest strata of society, to rise by dint of
+hard study, a firm will and exemplary conduct to the very highest
+positions.
+
+
+SECONDARY EDUCATION.
+
+In France, children of parents in easy circumstances do not go to the
+primary schools at all. Every man occupying a higher social position
+than that of a mechanic does his utmost to procure for his children an
+education which shall place them above what the French call "the common
+people." Even a small farmer, with but a few thousand dollars at his
+command, strives to place his son in an institution where the higher
+cultivation of the intellectual faculties, the dress worn, and the very
+bearing, shall distinguish him from one of "the people." It need hardly
+be said that such a system as this, so diametrically opposed to that
+which prevails in the United States, tends to foster somewhat of
+jealousy and bitterness among the lower classes. As for those who have
+received this higher education, they would, as a general rule, consider
+it derogatory to their dignity ever in after life to perform any manual
+labor: this they leave to the illiterate and to those who have only
+attended the primary schools. The result may be imagined in the case of
+those whose parents, having paid their eight or nine years' schooling,
+are unable to do anything more for their offspring when they leave
+college. They cannot all earn their living in a professional capacity,
+or in the literary field, or as government employ�s, or, to be brief, in
+one of those situations which a graduate _can_ accept; and those who
+fail, insensibly and by degrees fall into the ranks of the _d�class�s_.
+The common workman may occasionally and for a short period suffer
+privation and want, but that becomes the chronic condition of the poor
+graduate. He becomes a misanthrope, hates his fellow-beings and resorts
+to petty shifts in order to live. Gradually his sense of honor and his
+moral feelings get weaker and weaker, and finally disappear altogether.
+Then he becomes one of those men who, like the conspirators denounced by
+Corneille,
+
+    Si tout n'est renvers� ne sauraient subsister.
+
+These men take a prominent part in every _�meute_, haranguing the
+populace, propagating socialistic theories, and gaining a baneful
+influence over the uneducated and the discontented among the workingmen,
+thus causing that bloodshed and destruction of which Paris has so often
+been the scene. Probably no more vivid picture of the life of these
+unfortunate persons has ever been drawn than that which Jules Vall�s has
+given us in his _R�fractaires_. Most eloquently does he describe the
+vain hopes and reveries by which these men are elated, and the poignant
+misery they suffer. Vall�s, it will be recollected, was a Communist, a
+member of that revolutionary government which contained so many of these
+_d�class�s_.
+
+Far be it from us to desire to limit the higher education to the
+children of the rich. By all means let every man in a position to do so
+give his sons the benefit of the secondary education. The fittest will
+always survive, the weakest inevitably go to the wall. At the same time,
+there are certain modifications which all will admit may be introduced
+with advantage into the present system, and these will become apparent
+as we proceed.
+
+Secondary education is imparted in the national lyceums, which are
+established and governed by the state, and which now exist in eighty out
+of the eighty-six departments; in the municipal colleges, which are
+established and governed by the towns; and in the private colleges, the
+majority of which are kept by religious fraternities.
+
+The most celebrated of the private colleges are Arcueil and Sor�ze, both
+of which belong to the Dominicans. The principal professors at Arcueil
+were, it will be recollected, taken to La Roquette in 1871, and there
+shot with Archbishop Darboy and the other hostages. Sor�ze will not be
+forgotten so long as the memory of Lacordaire lives. The Fathers of the
+Oratory own the college of Juilly, where Berryer and Montalembert were
+educated. It was to this order that belonged the illustrious Massillon a
+century and a half ago, and Father Gratry in our own time. As for the
+Jesuits, their colleges are distributed over the whole of France, and
+are distinguished for their comfort and elegance, their spacious halls,
+their fine grounds and the excellent gymnasia attached thereto. Their
+superiority over the national lyceums leads to the fact of their being
+as well attended as the latter, although pupils at the Jesuits' colleges
+pay three times as much as at the government schools. The large college
+of the Jesuits in the Rue des Postes at Paris furnishes a heavy
+contingent to St. Cyr and the polytechnic schools. The Stanislas
+College, although a private institution, has its corps of professors
+appointed by the Minister of Public Instruction, and its pupils are
+privileged to take part in the general examinations of the lyceum
+pupils. M. John Lemoinne, the eminent writer for the _Journal des
+D�bats_, was educated at the Stanislas College, all the pupils of which,
+it may be mentioned, are day scholars. At the Rollin College only
+boarders are admitted.
+
+There are quite a number of foreign colleges at Paris, such as the
+Egyptian, the Japanese, the Armenian and the Polish colleges. The former
+Irish college, now called _Coll�ge des Fondations britanniques_, is
+under the patronage of the French Minister of Education. It is here that
+young men speaking the English language are specially educated for the
+priesthood, the whole of the instruction being given in English and the
+management being in the hands of British and Irish ecclesiastics. About
+15,200 scholars attend the private colleges in Paris.
+
+Proceeding now to speak of the actual condition of the _lyc�es_, or
+lyceums, it may at once be stated that boarders at one of these
+establishments in Paris pay from $200 to $300 annually, and in the
+provinces from $150 to $200, according to age. Considering that this one
+charge covers board, instruction, books, washing, clothes, writing
+materials, medical attendance and medicine, it will readily be
+understood that the income from this source is totally inadequate to
+meet the outlays. The government, besides providing a large number of
+gratuitous scholarships, makes up the deficit, whatever it may be, and
+thus really maintains the lyceums. There are in Paris five national
+lyc�es, besides the lyceum at Vanves, situated at a little distance to
+the south of the capital, at what was once the villa of the prince de
+Cond�, on the Vaugirard route. At Vanves the younger pupils have the
+opportunity afforded them of pursuing their studies in the country, and
+only entering one of the Paris lyc�es when they have worked themselves
+into the fifth class. The most famous as well as the largest of the
+lyceums of Paris is the Lyc�e Descartes, formerly called the Lyc�e
+Louis-le-Grand. It stands in the Rue St. Jacques, on the spot formerly
+occupied by the Jesuits' Coll�ge de Clermont, which was founded in 1563,
+and confiscated when the Jesuits were expelled from France by the duc de
+Choiseul in 1764. As is well known, Moli�re and Voltaire, two of the
+bitterest enemies of the Jesuits, were educated at the Coll�ge de
+Clermont. At Louis-le-Grand were also educated Cr�billon, the author of
+the _Sopha_; Gresset, the writer of _Vert-vert_; Robespierre, Camille
+Desmoulins, Cr�mieux, Eug�ne Delacroix, Victor Hugo; the eminent surgeon
+Dupuytren; Jules Janin, Villemain, Littr� and Laboulaye. At present 540
+of its 1200 pupils are day scholars.
+
+Sainte-Barbe, the most celebrated of the free colleges of Paris, sends
+its pupils to the course of instruction at the Lyc�e Descartes.
+Sainte-Barbe was founded in 1460 by the Abb� Lenormand, and reorganized
+after the Revolution by Delaneau: it stands in the Place du Panth�on, on
+a small plot of ground, and is so thickly surrounded by buildings that
+the play-ground is not even large enough for the pupils to move about
+in. The younger among them are therefore sent to the branch of the
+school at Fontenay-aux-Roses, a stately ch�teau with spacious grounds.
+Both Ignatius Loyola, who founded the order of Jesus, and Calvin, who
+did his best to destroy it, were educated at Sainte-Barbe, as were also
+in more modern times Eug�ne Scribe, the singer Nourrit, the celebrated
+painter in water-colors Eug�ne Lamy, and General Trochu. The present
+director of Sainte-Barbe is M. Dubief, formerly inspector of the Academy
+of Paris, and who succeeded in 1865 the lamented M. Labrouste, to whose
+untiring exertions Sainte-Barbe owes in great part the high reputation
+it has enjoyed in recent times.
+
+On the Boulevard St. Michel, on the spot where once stood the old
+Coll�ge d'Harcourt, is the Lyc�e St. Louis, now called, after the famous
+mathematician, the Lyc�e Monge. Although the Lyc�e Monge is specially
+devoted to scientific training, it has numbered among its pupils Charles
+Gounod the composer and Egger the Hellenist.
+
+In the rear of the Panth�on, on the site of the abbey of Ste. Genevi�ve,
+founded by Clovis in 510, stands the Lyc�e Corneille, formerly called
+the Lyc�e Napol�on, and before that the Coll�ge Henri IV. To the
+arch�ologist the cellars, the kitchens, the chapel and the old tower of
+the twelfth century cannot fail to prove of the greatest interest, while
+the remainder of the structure, built during the reign of Louis XIV.,
+makes this unquestionably the finest of the lyceums of Paris. At the
+Lyc�e Corneille were educated Casimir Delavigne (whose bust by David
+d'Angers adorns the interior), Sainte-Beuve, Haussmann, Alfred de
+Musset, St. Marc Girardin, �mile Augier, Remusat, the prince de
+Joinville and the dukes of Nemours, Aumale, Montpensier and Chartres.
+The three lyceums above mentioned are on the left bank, the remaining
+two on the right bank, of the Seine.
+
+In the Rue Caumartin, near the Havre railway-station, on the site of the
+Capuchins' convent, stands the Lyc�e Condorcet, or, as it was called
+until recently, the Lyc�e Bonaparte. All the pupils are day scholars,
+and most of them come from the adjacent wealthy district of the Chauss�e
+d'Antin, the Boulevards and the Madeleine. Among the pupils of this
+aristocratic educational establishment may be named J. J. Amp�re,
+Alexandre Dumas _fils_, Adolphe Adam the composer, Edmond and Jules de
+Goncourt the novelists, Alphonse Karr, Henry Monnier, Nadar, Taine,
+Eug�ne Sue; the mulatto Sch�lcher, now Senator of France; the celebrated
+Jesuit Father Ravignan, and the poet Th�odore de Banville.
+
+The Lyc�e Charlemagne is in a building in the Rue St. Antoine, formerly
+used as the Jesuits' convent. Being situated in one of the poorest
+sections of Paris, the children from which as a rule do not get beyond
+the primary schools, it receives most of its scholars from the numerous
+boarding-schools of the Quartier du Marais. Among the many well-known
+names formerly on the roll of the Lyc�e Charlemagne are those of Gustave
+Dor�, Th�ophile Gautier, Admiral Jurien de la Gravi�re, Michelet; the
+dramatic critic Francisque Sarcey; Got the comedian, and Buffet the
+statesman.
+
+These five lyceums of Paris, with their 7500 day scholars and boarders,
+and the eighty lyceums in the provinces, have precisely the same
+programme and rules of government throughout. The boarders are divided
+into three sections, the first being for the _petits_--viz., boys
+averaging from seven to twelve, who are instructed in the elementary
+course, comprising the eighth and seventh classes; the second is for the
+_moyens_, who receive instruction in the grammar course, comprising the
+sixth, fifth and fourth classes; the third is for the _grands_, who,
+taking their place in the third and second classes, proceed with the
+higher course, embracing rhetoric, philosophy, and, if desired, special
+mathematics. Although at playtime the boys meet in a common play-ground,
+during school-hours they are distributed in different rooms or studies
+(_�tudes_), one class generally corresponding to a study. There is thus
+the eighth, fourth or second study, just as there is the eighth, fourth
+or second class. The professors--of whom there are from fifteen to
+thirty, the number of boys ranging from three hundred to twelve
+hundred--superintend the classes, while the dozen poor, ill-paid ushers
+have to keep order in the _�tudes_. The scholars signify their contempt
+for the ushers--officially known as _ma�tres r�p�titeurs_--by nicknaming
+them _pions_ or watch-dogs. Yet not an usher but is appointed, like all
+others engaged in the lyc�e, by the minister. Each one of them has
+obtained his degree as bachelor, and many only accept the situation as a
+means of economically pursuing their studies toward the higher degrees
+and fellowships. Where the class is a large one, the corresponding study
+is usually divided into two, so as to reduce the number in one _�tude_
+to about thirty. The lads making up each _�tude_ sleep in one dormitory
+on little iron bedsteads, only separated from each other by the width of
+the bed. The usher in charge sleeps at the extremity of the dormitory,
+his bed being the only one provided with curtains.
+
+A boy entering the lyceum at seven or eight years of age has already
+learned the rudiments, and is accordingly placed in the eighth class. In
+those exceptional cases where the boy comes to school unable to read or
+write he passes the first year in the preparatory class. In the eighth
+class, and the next year in the seventh, he is taught French grammar,
+spelling, arithmetic, sacred history and elementary Latin exercises and
+translation. In the sixth and fifth and the fourth classes the Latin
+authors the boy has to study become gradually more and more difficult.
+The professor of history who accompanies the students throughout their
+lyceum course, instructs them as they advance each year to a higher
+class, in Greek and Roman history and modern and ancient geography. So
+also the professors of English and German, of physics, natural history
+and mathematics keep up with their pupils, and guide their studies, each
+in his special branch, until they graduate. Drawing and music are also
+taught without extra charge two hours a week, but those children whose
+parents really desire them to make progress in these special branches
+have to take--and pay extra for--private lessons called _r�p�titions_.
+In the third and second classes, as also when the pupils are going
+through the course of rhetoric, Greek as well as Latin is studied,
+together with the French classic authors, Corneille, Racine, Moli�re,
+Bossuet, Boileau, La Bruy�re, La Fontaine, F�nelon, Massillon and some
+of Voltaire's works. The history of France is also studied, but scarcely
+with that thoroughness which characterizes the study of history in the
+German gymnasia.
+
+The pupil's last year is passed in the philosophy class, formerly called
+the logic class, which is specially devoted to the study of the human
+understanding; thus, as Mr. Matthew Arnold well puts it, "making the
+pupil busy himself with the substance of ideas, as in rhetoric he busied
+himself with their form, and developing his reflection as rhetoric
+developed his imagination and taste." During this last year, however,
+classic studies are pursued with none the less vigor, for on his
+proficiency in these branches depends very largely the student's success
+at the second and final examination for his degree. It is only since
+1874 that this examination has been divided into two parts--the first
+at the close of the year of rhetoric, the second at the close of the
+year of philosophy, the student being required to pass on both
+occasions. Each of the two examinations is divided into the _�preuve
+�crite_ and the _�preuve orale_. In the latter the candidate is examined
+generally on all the subjects studied. The �preuve �crite consists, the
+first year, of a translation and Latin discourse--the second year, of a
+Latin dissertation and a French dissertation. Those educated in Paris
+have to pass their examination at the Sorbonne, while those educated in
+the provinces are examined by one of the sixteen faculties of France, at
+Poitiers, Caen, Toulouse, Bordeaux, etc. It is scarcely necessary to
+observe that the bachelor's degree confers no sort of privilege in
+France. The diploma which attests to its recipient having passed through
+a regular course of classical study opens up no career to him, but
+_with_ this diploma he can study law or medicine or qualify for the
+special schools, such as the Polytechnic, St. Cyr and the normal
+schools, and on leaving these his position is assured.
+
+The life led by the boarders at the _lyc�es_ is as follows: At six
+o'clock in summer, and at half-past six in winter, the pupils get up at
+the sound of the drum. Ten minutes are allowed for dressing, and then
+they all march in procession to the preparation-room. One of the lads
+recites a short prayer in Latin, after which the boys study till
+half-past seven. They then proceed to the refectory, where all the
+pupils breakfast together, ten minutes being allowed for the meal.
+Thence the boys go into the play-ground, where the ranks are broken and
+a quarter of an hour is allowed for play and talk. (Out of the
+play-ground conversation among the pupils is prohibited by the rules,
+and not infrequently those caught talking are punished.) From eight to
+ten the boys are in school; from ten to half-past ten, at play; from
+half-past ten to twelve, in the study, writing exercises, getting ready
+for classes and solving problems. At twelve o'clock, dinner, then play
+till one; from one till two, in the study, learning by heart lessons
+for recitation; from two till four, school; from four to five, play;
+from five to half-past seven in the study, where the exercises for the
+following morning are written. At half-past seven, supper, then another
+prayer in Latin, and then to bed. On Thursdays and Sundays there are no
+classes, but the boys have their hours of study as on other days, and
+fill up the time by a two-hours' walk in marching array, either in the
+city or (if weather permit) in the country. Once a week in Paris, once a
+fortnight in the provinces, a boy may go out for a holiday if his
+parents or persons authorized by his parents come and take him from
+school. He is allowed to see his parents or those representing them any
+day between four and five P.M. in the _parloir_. On Sundays attendance
+at mass and at vespers in the chapel of the lyc�e is compulsory for
+pupils of the Roman Catholic faith. Pupils belonging to other faiths
+have in Paris every opportunity for attending the services of their
+religion, but in the provinces this is naturally not so easy. The
+regular holidays are the 1st and 2d of January, a week at Easter and two
+months in summer, commencing about the 10th of August. All corporal
+punishment is strictly prohibited. The lads are punished by being kept
+in in play-hours and on holidays, and in grave cases by being confined
+_en s�questre_. It is very rarely that a pupil is expelled--a punishment
+which may in extreme cases entail expulsion from every lyceum in France.
+
+As will have been seen, the life led by the boarders at the lyceums is
+pretty irksome and severe. If a boy's parents live in the city, he can
+simply attend the classes as a day scholar, which experience has proved
+to be the better of the two plans. From a sanitary point of view the
+lyceums do not stand high by any means. Few among them were built on any
+proper model, or, as will have been noticed, even constructed for their
+present use. About four-fifths of them were old colleges belonging to
+religious corporations confiscated at the Revolution, or they were
+formerly convents, and have now been fitted up as well as possible for
+purely educational purposes. The rooms are for the most part so small
+that the lads are crowded and huddled together. On some of the benches
+they have to sit on one side when they want to write. Every lyceum has
+an infirmary, to which are attached two or three Sisters of Charity, and
+the infirmary is often fuller than could be wished. The play-grounds are
+in general miserably small, rarely planted with trees, and ill adapted
+for boys to run about and play in. Some of the boys who are always kept
+in do not get even this poor exercise. The contributions of the
+government for the maintenance of the lyceums being on a somewhat
+parsimonious scale, every kind of economy is practiced. The food,
+without being unwholesome, is far from being agreeable. The lighting of
+the buildings by oil lamps, not by gas, is often insufficient, and may
+possibly explain the fact of so many Frenchmen being short-sighted. The
+rooms are warmed in winter by small stoves, which send out noxious
+vapors.
+
+At the head of every lyceum is a provost (_proviseur_), who is assisted
+by a _censeur_ or superintendent of instruction, by an inspector of
+studies, and by a bursar (_�conome_), who controls the finances of the
+establishment. Toward the end of each scholastic year, about July, ten
+or a dozen of the brightest youths are selected from each of the classes
+in the lyceums of Paris, and are made to undergo an examination in
+composition at the Sorbonne. At its close prizes and _accessits_ are
+awarded, and these are distributed about the 15th of August in the
+amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, and in presence of a distinguished
+assemblage under the presidency of the Minister of Public Instruction.
+The minister, having opened the proceedings with a speech in French, is
+followed by one of the professors, who, in accordance with a custom more
+than a century old, makes a speech in Latin. Since 1865 the provincial
+lyceums have competed among themselves, and as the subjects of
+composition are the same as those in the Paris lyceums, an opportunity
+is afforded for observing how very much farther advanced are the
+Parisian establishments than those in the interior. Not only has Paris
+the best professors, but also the best boys, many having been sent
+thither by their parents from the provincial lyceums on their displaying
+marked ability and intelligence. Thus the standard of the Paris lyceums
+is raised. Upon the result of the general examination undergone by the
+pupils of a public or private school depends the estimation in which
+that institution is held by the public. The more prizes taken by a
+lyceum or by an institution sending its pupils to the lyceum
+examinations, the greater will be the number of parents sending their
+children thither. The successful participants who have carried off the
+prizes of honor in special mathematics, philosophy and Latin are exempt
+from military service, while the professors of the class to which they
+belonged are often rewarded with the cross of the Legion of Honor. It
+will therefore be apparent that the heads of the educational
+establishments are, to say the least, quite as much interested in the
+results of the contest as are the pupils themselves. The natural
+consequence is, that the professors devote themselves to cramming those
+pupils whose assiduity and superior intelligence mark them out as fit
+partakers in such a contest. There are sometimes as many as sixty pupils
+in a class in the Paris Lyc�e, and yet the professor's attention may be
+confined to barely a dozen among them. The rest of the class read
+novels, go to sleep or remain listless during the lesson. The well-known
+writer M. Maxime du Camp may possibly have slightly exaggerated the evil
+when he asserted that "Ceux-l� seuls travaillent qui se destinent aux
+�coles sp�ciales;" but we have no difficulty in believing his statement
+that on one occasion M. �mile Saisset--since a member of the Institute,
+then professor at the Lyc�e Henri IV.--left the platform, and taking a
+seat facing the front row, where he had got together the six best (_plus
+forts_), began reading to them in a low tone. When one of the other
+pupils began talking too loud, the professor cried out, "Ne faites donc
+pas tant de bruit: vous nous emp�chez de causer."
+
+But, although these general examinations may operate somewhat
+disadvantageously toward the duller members of the class, it must be
+acknowledged that they have had the effect of inducing many a youth to
+put forth his best efforts in order to attain special distinction, and
+have thus laid the foundation of future success. Among those with whom
+such has been the case may be mentioned the names of Delille the poet,
+La Harpe the critic, Victor Cousin the philosopher, Adrien de Jussieu
+the naturalist, Drouyn de Lhuys, ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs, now
+president of the Agricultural Society of France; Taine, Edmond About,
+Pr�vost Paradol, etc.
+
+Within the last thirty years the plan of study in the lyc�es has
+undergone many changes. Each successive Minister of Education has
+instituted some modifications, and the result has generally been an
+improvement. The most thoroughgoing revision took place under M. Jules
+Simon, who was Minister of Public Instruction in 1872. A well-known
+member of the Institute and professor of philosophy, M. Paul Janet, in
+defending the reforms instituted by M. Simon, makes some bold remarks on
+the subject. Secondary education in France is now composed of two
+branches of instruction mingled, which if separated might, according to
+M. Janet, each for itself furnish the materials for a very thorough and
+wide-reaching education. On the one hand is the classical course,
+consisting of Greek and Latin, and on the other what may be termed the
+modern course, composed of French, living foreign languages, history,
+geography, science and physical exercises,--these last embracing
+fencing, gymnastics, gun-practice, etc. Society at the time of the
+Renaissance had to be steeped once again in the study of classical
+literature in order to weld anew the links of that chain which had been
+broken by the invasion of the barbarians. So also, reasons M. Janet, it
+is necessary now for us to be prepared for the new conditions of modern
+and contemporary civilization. This civilization, he goes on to say, is
+marked by three distinguishing characteristics: the prodigious
+development of science and industry; the establishment of political
+institutions more or less liberal; the extension of the means of
+communication between various nations. Therefore he holds that the study
+of science should occupy a more prominent place in the system of French
+instruction. History, useless in a country despotically governed,
+becomes more and more necessary in a free country. Foreign languages and
+the literature of the Teutonic and English-speaking nations must occupy
+a larger place in the new plan of studies.
+
+But the question arises, How can place be found for new studies when
+some of the old ones have to be crowded out? Evidently this can only be
+done by circumscribing within narrower limits classical instruction.
+Now-a-days, says M. Jules Simon, "on apprend les langues vivantes pour
+les parler et les langues mortes pour les lire." The day is past when
+Santeul gained for himself a reputation by his Latin verse, and when
+Cardinal de Polignac refuted Lucretius in his own tongue. Latin
+compositions have become purely artificial exercises, and the art of
+writing Latin must be sacrificed, just as the art of speaking Latin was
+sacrificed a century ago. Therefore it was that M. Simon did away with
+Latin verse. He retained for the present Latin speeches and
+dissertations, but contemplated abolishing these too in the future; and
+he proposed that there should be two kinds of exposition of Latin texts
+in the classes--the one very profound, and where much time should be
+given to but a few lines; the other, on the contrary, very rapid and
+extended, having for its object to exercise the pupil in reading and
+readily understanding what he reads. Since the reforms of 1872 the
+pupils read Latin with not less facility than before; which seems to
+show that Latin verse was not indispensable. It should also be mentioned
+that under M. Simon's auspices a law was made in 1872 requiring every
+pupil to pass an examination before being promoted from a lower to a
+higher class in the lyc�e. Those who fail in this examination, and who
+do not care to return to the lower class, are transferred to the
+so-called _classes de science_, where the subjects of study are
+mathematics, geometry, physics, chemistry and natural history.
+
+M. Jules Simon retired from his post as Minister of Public Instruction
+under M. Thiers on the 24th of May, 1873, and the reforms he had
+instituted were overthrown by the clerical ministry which followed. The
+Republican elections of the 20th of February, 1876, having been the
+means of once more placing the government in the hands of M. Simon's
+friends, he himself was on the 12th of December last made president of
+the Council of Ministers, while M. Waddington resumed the portfolio of
+Public Instruction. M. Waddington, who besides being a Rugby and
+Cambridge man, has, like M. Simon, taken the doctor's degree at the
+Sorbonne, at once took measures to carry out the liberal and progressive
+reforms we have spoken of. His efforts were, however, frustrated by the
+enforced retirement of the Jules Simon ministry on the 16th of May,
+1877, and the accession of the conservatives to power. There can be
+little doubt that the new ministry will set aside all the reforms
+planned and executed, and will return to the old paths until the seesaw
+of public opinion in France shall once more re-establish the
+Simon-Waddington reforms.
+
+As has been shown, the progress made in the system of secondary
+instruction in France is but slow: indeed, it may be compared to that of
+certain pilgrims, who in fulfillment of their vows take three steps
+forward and two backward. Nevertheless, these party struggles and
+tentative efforts cannot fail in the end to result in a marked
+definitive improvement in the educational system. Before all things, it
+was necessary that the fallibility of the old system and of the
+antiquated shibboleths of instruction, which had hitherto exercised
+undisputed sway, be recognized. The rest will follow in due time.
+Whether minister or not, M. Jules Simon may justly claim the credit of
+having brought about a salutary educational crisis, the effects of which
+will be felt by the next, if not by the present, generation.
+
+                             C. H. HARDING.
+
+
+
+
+THE MARQUIS OF LOSSIE.
+
+BY GEORGE MACDONALD, AUTHOR OF "MALCOLM."
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII.
+
+THE SHORE.
+
+It was two days after the longest day of the year, when there is no
+night in those regions, only a long twilight in which many dream and do
+not know it. There had been a few days of variable weather, with sudden
+changes of wind to east and north, and round again by south to west, and
+then there had been a calm for several days. But now the little wind
+there was blew from the north-east, and the fervor of a hot June was
+rendered more delicious by the films of flavoring cold that floated
+through the mass of heat. All Portlossie more or less, the Seaton
+especially, was in a state of excitement, for its little neighbor
+Scaurnose was more excited still. There the man most threatened, and
+with greatest injustice, was the only one calm amongst the men, and
+amongst the women his wife was the only one that was calmer than he.
+Blue Peter was resolved to abide the stroke of wrong, and not resist the
+powers that were, believing them in some true sense--which he found it
+hard to understand when he thought of the factor as the individual
+instance--ordained of God. He had a dim perception too that it was
+better that one, and that one he, should suffer, than that order should
+be destroyed and law defied. Suffering, he might still in patience
+possess his soul, and all be well with him; but what would become of the
+country if every one wronged were to take the law into his own hands?
+Thousands more would be wronged by the lawless in a week than by unjust
+powers in a year. But the young men were determined to pursue their plan
+of resistance, and those of the older and soberer who saw the
+uselessness of it gave themselves little trouble to change the minds of
+the rest. Peter, although he knew they were not at rest, neither
+inquired what their purpose might be, nor allowed any conjecture or
+suspicion concerning it to influence him in his preparations for
+departure. Not that he had found a new home. Indeed, he had not heartily
+set about searching for one--in part because, unconsciously to himself,
+he was buoyed up by the hope he read so clear in the face of his more
+trusting wife that Malcolm would come to deliver them. His plan was to
+leave her and his children with certain friends at Port Gordon: he would
+not hear of going to the Partans to bring them into trouble. He would
+himself set out immediately after for the Lewis fishing. Few had gone
+from Scaurnose or Portlossie. The magnitude of the events that were
+about to take place, yet more the excitement and interest they
+occasioned, kept the most of the men at home, and they contented
+themselves with fishing the waters of the Moray Frith--not without
+notable success. But what was success with such a tyrant over them as
+the factor, threatening to harry their nests and turn the sea-birds and
+their young out of their heritage of rock and sand and shingle? They
+could not keep house on the waves any more than the gulls. Those who
+still held their religious assemblies in the cave called the Baillies'
+Barn met often, read and sang the comminatory psalms more than any
+others, and prayed much against the wiles and force of their enemies
+both temporal and spiritual; while Mr. Crathie went every Sunday to
+church, grew redder in the nose and hotter in the temper.
+
+Miss Horn was growing more and more uncomfortable concerning events, and
+dissatisfied with Malcolm. She had not for some time heard from him, and
+here was his most important duty unattended to--she would not yet say
+neglected--the well-being of his tenantry left in the hands of an
+unsympathetic, self-important underling, who was fast losing all the
+good sense he had once possessed! Were the life and history of all
+these brave fishermen and their wives and children to be postponed to
+the pampered feelings of one girl, and that because she was what she had
+no right to be--namely, his half-sister? said Miss Horn to herself, that
+bosom friend to whom some people, and those not the worst, say oftener
+what they do not mean than what they do. She had written to him within
+the last month a very hot letter indeed, which had afforded no end of
+amusement to Mrs. Catanach as she sat in his old lodging over the
+curiosity-shop, but, I need hardly say, had not reached Malcolm; and now
+there was but one night and the best of all the fisher families would
+have nowhere to lie down. Miss Horn, with Joseph Mair, thought she did
+well to be angry with Malcolm.
+
+The blind piper had been very restless all day. Questioned again and
+again by his Mistress Partan as to what was amiss with him, he had given
+her odd and evasive answers. Every few minutes he got up--even from
+cleaning her lamp--to go to the shore. He had not far to go to reach
+it--had but to cross the threshold, and take a few steps through the
+_close_, and he was on the road that ran along the sea-front of the
+village. On the one side were the cottages, scattered and huddled--on
+the other, the shore and ocean, wide outstretched. He would walk
+straight across the road until he felt the sand under his feet; there
+stand for a few moments facing the sea, and, with nostrils distended,
+breathing deep breaths of the air from the north-east, then turn and
+walk back to Meg Partan's kitchen and resume his ministration of light.
+These his sallies were so frequent, and his absences so short, that a
+more serene temper than hers might have been fretted by them. But there
+was something about his look and behavior that, while it perplexed,
+restrained her, and instead of breaking out upon him she eyed him
+curiously. She had found that it would not do to stare at him. The
+moment she began to do so he began to fidget, and turned his back to
+her. It had made her lose her temper for a moment, and declare aloud as
+her conviction that he was after all an impostor, and saw as well as any
+of them.
+
+"She has told you so, Mistress Partan, one hundred thousand times,"
+replied Duncan with an odd smile; "and perhaps she will pe see a little
+petter as any of you, no matter."
+
+Thereupon she murmured to herself, "The cratur' 'ill be seein'
+something!" and with mingled awe and curiosity sought to lay some
+restraint upon her unwelcome observation of him.
+
+Thus it went on the whole day, and as the evening approached he grew
+still more excited. The sun went down and the twilight began, and as the
+twilight deepened still his excitement grew. Straightway it seemed as if
+the whole Seaton had come to share in it. Men and women were all out of
+doors; and, late as it was when the sun set, to judge by the number of
+bare legs and feet that trotted in and out with a little red flash, with
+a dull patter-pat on earthen floor and hard road, and a scratching and
+hustling among the pebbles, there could not have been one older than a
+baby in bed; while of the babies even not a few were awake in their
+mothers' arms, and out with them on the sea-front, where the men, with
+their hands in their trouser-pockets, were lazily smoking pigtail in
+short clay pipes with tin covers fastened to the stems by little chains,
+and some of the women, in short blue petticoats and worsted stockings,
+were doing the same. Some stood in their doors, talking with neighbors
+standing in their doors, but these were mostly the elder women: the
+younger ones--all but Lizzy Findlay--were out in the road. One man half
+leaned, half sat on the window-sill of Duncan's former abode, and round
+him were two or three more, and some women, talking about Scaurnose, and
+the factor, and what the lads there would do to-morrow; while the hush
+of the sea on the pebbles mingled with their talk like an unknown tongue
+of the Infinite--never articulating, only suggesting--uttering in song
+and not in speech--dealing not with thoughts, but with feelings and
+foretastes. No one listened: what to them was the Infinite, with
+Scaurnose in the near distance? It was now almost as dark as it would be
+throughout the night if it kept clear.
+
+Once more there was Duncan, standing as if looking out to sea, and
+shading his brows with his hand as if to protect his eyes from the glare
+of the sun and enable his sight.
+
+"There's the auld piper again!" said one of the group, a young woman.
+"He's unco fule-like to be stan'in' that gait (_way_), makin' as gien he
+cudna weel see for the sun in 's een."
+
+"Haud ye yer tongue, lass," rejoined an elderly woman beside her.
+"There's mair things nor ye ken, as the Beuk says. There's een 'at can
+see an' een 'at canna, an' een 'at can see twise ower, an' een 'at can
+see steikit what nane can see open."
+
+"Ta poat! ta poat of my chief!" cried the seer. "She is coming like a
+tream of ta night, put one tat will not tepart with ta morning!" He
+spoke as one suppressing a wild joy.
+
+"Wha'll that be, lucky-deddy?" inquired in a respectful voice the woman
+who had last spoken, while all within hearing hushed each other and
+stood in silence. And all the time the ghost of the day was creeping
+round from west to east, to put on its resurrection body and rise new
+born. It gleamed faint like a cold ashy fire in the north.
+
+"And who will it pe than her own son, Mistress Reekie?" answered the
+piper, calling her by her husband's nickname, as was usual, but, as was
+his sole wont, prefixing the title of respect where custom would have
+employed but her Christian name. "Who'll should it pe put her own
+Malcolm?" he went on. "I see his poat come round ta Tead Head. She flits
+over the water like a pale ghost over Morven. But it's ta young and ta
+strong she is pringing home to Tuncan.--O m'anam, beannuich!"
+
+Involuntarily, all eyes turned toward the point called the Death's Head,
+which bounded the bay on the east.
+
+"It's ower dark to see onything," said the man on the window-sill.
+"There's a bit haar (_fog_) come up."
+
+"Yes," said Duncan, "it'll pe too tark for you who haf cot no eyes only
+to speak of. Put you'll wait a few, and you'll pe seeing as well as
+herself.--Och, her poy! her poy! O m'anam! Ta Lort pe praised! and
+she'll tie in peace, for he'll pe only ta one-half of him a Cam'ell, and
+he'll pe safed at last, as sure as there's a heafen to co to and a hell
+to co from. For ta half tat's not a Cam'ell must be ta strong half, and
+it will trag ta other half into heafen--where it will not pe ta welcome
+howefer."
+
+As if to get rid of the unpleasant thought that his Malcolm could not
+enter heaven without taking half a Campbell with him, he turned from the
+sea and hurried into the house, but only to catch up his pipes and
+hasten out again, filling the bag as he went. Arrived once more on the
+verge of the sand, he stood again facing the north-east, and began to
+blow a pibroch loud and clear.
+
+Meantime, the Partan had joined the same group, and they were talking in
+a low tone about the piper's claim to the second-sight--for although all
+were more or less inclined to put faith in Duncan, there was here no
+such unquestioning belief in the marvel as would have been found on the
+west coast in every glen from the Mull of Cantyre to Loch Eribol--when
+suddenly Meg Partan, almost the only one hitherto remaining in the
+house, appeared rushing from the close. "Hech, sirs!" she cried,
+addressing the Seaton in general, "gien the auld man be in the richt--"
+
+"She'll pe aal in ta right, Mistress Partan, and tat you'll pe seeing,"
+said Duncan, who, hearing her first cry, had stopped his drone and
+played softly, listening.
+
+But Meg went on without heeding him any more than was implied in the
+repetition of her exordium: "Gien the auld man be i' the richt, it 'll
+be the marchioness hersel', 'at's h'ard o' the ill-duin's o' her factor,
+an' 's comin' to see efter her fowk. An' it 'll be Ma'colm's duin'; an'
+that 'll be seen. But the bonny laad winna ken the state o' the herbor,
+an' he'll be makin' for the moo' o' 't, an' he'll jist rin 's bonny
+boatie agrun' 'atween the twa piers; an' that 'll no be a richt
+hame-comin' for the leddy o' the lan'; an' what's mair, Ma'colm 'ill get
+the wyte (_blame_) o' 't; an' that 'll be seen. Sae ye maun, some o' ye,
+to the pier-heid, an' luik oot to gie them warnin'."
+
+Her own husband was the first to start, proud of the foresight of his
+wife. "Haith, Meg!" he cried, "ye're maist as guid at the lang sicht as
+the piper himsel'!"
+
+Several followed him, and as they ran Meg cried after them, giving her
+orders as if she had been vice-admiral of the red, in a voice shrill
+enough to pierce the worst gale that ever blew on northern shore, "Ye'll
+jist tell the bonnie laad to haud wast a bit an' rin her ashore, an'
+we'll a' be there, an' hae her as dry's Noah's ark in a jiffie. Tell her
+leddyship we'll cairry the boat an' her intil't to the tap o' the Boar's
+Tail gien she'll gie's her orders.--Winna we, laads?"
+
+"We can but try," said one. "But the Fisky 'ill be waur to get a grip o'
+nor Nancy here," he added, turning suddenly upon the plumpest girl in
+the place, who stood next him. But she foiled him of the kiss he had
+thought to snatch, and turned the laugh from herself upon him, so
+cleverly avoiding his clutch that he staggered into the road and nearly
+fell upon his nose.
+
+By the time the Partan and his companions reached the pier-head
+something was dawning in the vague of sea and sky that might be a sloop,
+and standing for the harbor. Thereupon the Partan and Jamie Ladle jumped
+into a small boat and pulled out. Dubs, who had come from Scaurnose on
+the business of the conjuration, had stepped into the stern, not to
+steer, but to show a white ensign--somebody's Sunday shirt he had
+gathered as they ran from a furze-bush, where it hung to dry, between
+the Seaton and the harbor.
+
+"Hoots! ye'll affront the marchioness," objected the Partan.
+
+"Man, i' the gloamin' she'll no ken't frae buntin'," said Dubs, and at
+once displayed it, holding it by the two sleeves. The wind had now
+fallen to the softest breath, and the little vessel came on slowly. The
+men rowed hard, shouting and waving their flag, and soon heard a hail
+which none of them could mistake for other than Malcolm's. In a few
+minutes they were on board, greeting their old friend with jubilation,
+but talking in a subdued tone, for they knew by Malcolm's that the
+cutter bore their lady. Briefly the Partan communicated the state of the
+harbor, and recommended porting his helm and running the Fisky ashore
+about opposite the brass swivel. "A' the men an' women i' the Seaton,"
+he said, "'ill be there to haul her up."
+
+Malcolm took the helm, gave his orders and steered farther westward.
+
+By this time the people on shore had caught sight of the cutter. They
+saw her come stealing out of the thin dark like a thought half thought,
+and go gliding along the shore like a sea-ghost over the dusky water,
+faint, uncertain, noiseless, glimmering. It could be no other than the
+Fisky! Both their lady and their friend Malcolm must be on board, they
+were certain, for how could the one of them come without the other? and
+doubtless the marchioness--whom they all remembered as a good-humored,
+handsome girl, ready to speak to any and everybody--would immediately
+deliver them from the hateful red-nosed ogre, her factor. Out at once
+they all set along the shore to greet her arrival, each running
+regardless of the rest, so that from the Seaton to the middle of the
+Boar's Tail there was a long, straggling, broken string of hurrying
+fisher-folk, men and women, old and young, followed by all the current
+children, tapering to one or two toddlers, who felt themselves neglected
+and wept their way along. The piper, too asthmatic to run, but not too
+asthmatic to walk and play his bagpipes, delighting the heart of
+Malcolm, who could not mistake the style, believed he brought up the
+rear, but was mistaken; for the very last came Mrs. Findlay and Lizzy,
+carrying between them their little deal kitchen-table for her ladyship
+to step out of the boat upon, and Lizzy's child fast asleep on the top
+of it.
+
+The foremost ran and ran until they saw that the Fisky had chosen her
+lair, and was turning her bows to the shore, when they stopped and
+stood ready with greased planks and ropes to draw her up. In a few
+minutes the whole population was gathered, darkening, in the June
+midnight, the yellow sands between the tide and the dune. The Psyche was
+well manned now with a crew of six. On she came under full sail till
+within a few yards of the beach, when in one and the same moment every
+sheet was let go, and she swept softly up like a summer wave, and lay
+still on the shore. The butterfly was asleep. But ere she came to rest,
+the instant indeed that her canvas went fluttering away, thirty strong
+men had rushed into the water and laid hold of the now wingless Psyche.
+In a few minutes she was high and dry.
+
+Malcolm leaped on the sand just as the Partaness came bustling up with
+her kitchen-table between her two hands like a tray. She set it down,
+and across it shook hands with him violently: then caught it up again,
+and deposited it firm on its four legs beneath the cutter's waist. "Noo,
+my leddy," said Meg, looking up at the marchioness, "set ye yer bit fut
+upo' my table, an' we'll think the mair o' 't efter whan we tak oor
+denner aff o' 't."
+
+Florimel thanked her, stepped lightly upon it, and sprang to the sand,
+where she was received with words of welcome from many, and shouts which
+rendered them inaudible from the rest. The men, their bonnets in their
+hands, and the women curtseying, made a lane for her to pass through,
+while the young fellows would gladly have begged leave to carry her
+could they have extemporized any suitable sort of palanquin or triumphal
+litter.
+
+Followed by Malcolm, she led the way over the Boar's Tail--nor would
+accept any help in climbing it--straight for the tunnel: Malcolm had
+never laid aside the key his father had given him to the private doors
+while he was yet a servant. They crossed by the embrasure of the brass
+swivel. That implement had now long been silent, but they had not gone
+many paces from the bottom of the dune when it went off with a roar. The
+shouts of the people drowned the startled cry with which Florimel
+turned to Malcolm, involuntarily mindful of old and for her better
+times. She had not looked for such a reception, and was both flattered
+and touched by it. For a brief space the spirit of her girlhood came
+back. Possibly, had she then understood that hope rather than faith or
+love was at the heart of their enthusiasm, that her tenants looked upon
+her as their savior from the factor, and sorely needed the exercise of
+her sovereignty, she might have better understood her position and her
+duty toward them.
+
+Malcolm unlocked the door of the tunnel, and she entered, followed by
+Rose, who felt as if she were walking in a dream. But as he stepped in
+after them he was seized from behind and clasped close in an embrace he
+knew at once. "Daddy, daddy!" he said, and turning threw his arms round
+the piper.
+
+"My poy! my poy! her nain son Malcolm!" said the old man in a whisper of
+intense satisfaction and suppression. "You'll must pe forgifing her for
+coming pack to you. She cannot help lofing you, and you must forget tat
+you are a Cam'ell."
+
+Malcolm kissed his cheek, and said, also in a whisper, "My ain daddy! I
+hae a heap to tell ye, but I maun see my leddy hame first."
+
+"Co, co, this moment co!" cried the old man, pushing him away. "To your
+tuties to my leddyship first, and then come to her old daddy."
+
+"I'll be wi' ye in half an hoor or less."
+
+"Coot poy! coot poy! Come to Mistress Partan's."
+
+"Ay, ay, daddy!" said Malcolm, and hurried through the tunnel.
+
+As Florimel approached the ancient dwelling of her race, now her own to
+do with as she would, her pleasure grew. Whether it was the twilight or
+the breach in dulling custom, everything looked strange, the grounds
+wider, the trees larger, the house grander and more anciently venerable.
+And all the way the burn sang in the hollow. The spirit of her father
+seemed to hover about the place, and while the thought that her
+father's voice would not greet her when she entered the hall cast a
+solemn funereal state over her simple return, her heart yet swelled with
+satisfaction and far-derived pride. All this was hers to do with as she
+would, to confer as she pleased! No thought of her tenants, fishers or
+farmers, who did their strong part in supporting the ancient dignity of
+her house, had even an associated share in the bliss of the moment. She
+had forgotten her reception already, or regarded it only as the natural
+homage to such a position and power as hers. As to owing anything in
+return, the idea had indeed been presented to her when with Clementina
+and Malcolm she talked over _St. Ronan's Well_, but it had never entered
+her mind.
+
+The drawing-room and the hall were lighted. Mrs. Courthope was at the
+door, as if she expected her, and Florimel was careful to take
+everything as a matter of course.
+
+"When will your ladyship please to want me?" asked Malcolm.
+
+"At the usual hour, Malcolm," she answered.
+
+He turned and ran to the Seaton.
+
+His first business was the accommodation of Travers and Davy, but he
+found them already housed at the Salmon, with Jamie Ladle teaching
+Travers to drink toddy. They had left the Psyche snug: she was high
+above high-water mark, and there were no tramps about: they had furled
+her sails, locked the companion-door and left her.
+
+Mrs. Findlay rejoiced over Malcolm as if he had been her own son from a
+far country, but the poor piper, between politeness and gratitude on the
+one hand and the urging of his heart on the other, was sorely tried by
+her loquacity: he could hardly get in a word. Malcolm perceived his
+suffering, and as soon as seemed prudent proposed that he should walk
+with him to Miss Horn's, where he was going to sleep, he said, that
+night. Mrs. Partan snuffed, but held her peace. For the third or fourth
+time that day, wonderful to tell, she restrained herself!
+
+As soon as they were out of the house Malcolm assured Duncan, to the
+old man's great satisfaction, that, had he not found him there, he would
+within another month have set out to roam Scotland in search of him.
+
+Miss Horn had heard of their arrival, and was wandering about the house,
+unable even to sit down until she saw the marquis. To herself she always
+called him the marquis: to his face he was always Ma'colm. If he had not
+come she declared she could not have gone to bed; yet she received him
+with an edge to her welcome: he had to answer for his behavior. They sat
+down, and Duncan told a long sad story; which finished, with the toddy
+that had sustained him during the telling, the old man thought it
+better, for fear of annoying his Mistress Partan, to go home. As it was
+past one o'clock, they both agreed.
+
+"And if she'll tie to-night, my poy," said Duncan, "she'll pe lie awake
+in her crave all ta long tarkness to pe waiting to hear ta voice of your
+worrts in ta morning. And nefer you mind, Malcolm, she'll has learned to
+forgive you for peing only ta one-half of yourself a cursed Cam'ell."
+
+Miss Horn gave Malcolm a wink, as much as to say, "Let the old man talk:
+it will hurt no Campbell;" and showed him out with much attention.
+
+And then at last Malcolm poured out his whole story, and his heart with
+it, to Miss Horn, who heard and received it with understanding, and a
+sympathy which grew ever as she listened. At length she declared herself
+perfectly satisfied, for not only had he done his best, but she did not
+see what else he could have done. She hoped, however, that now he would
+contrive to get this part over as quickly as possible, for which in the
+morning she would show him cogent reasons.
+
+"I hae no feelin's mysel', as ye weel ken, Ma'colm," she remarked in
+conclusion, "an' I doobt, gien I had been i' your place, I wad na hae
+luikit ta a' sides o' the thing at ance, as ye hae dune. An' it was a
+man like you 'at sae near lost yer life for the hizzy!" she exclaimed.
+"I maunna think aboot it, or I winna sleep a wink. But we maun get that
+deevil Catanach (an' cat eneuch!) hangt.--Weel, my man, ye may haud up
+yer heid afore the father o' ye, for ye're the first o' the race, I'm
+thinkin', 'at ever was near han' deein' for anither. But mak ye a speedy
+en' till 't noo, laad, an' fa' to the lave o' yer wark. There's a
+terrible heap to be dune. But I maun haud my tongue the nicht, for I wad
+fain ye had a guid sleep; an' I'm needin' ane sair mysel', for I'm no
+sae yoong as I ance was; an' I hae been that anxious aboot ye, Ma'colm,
+'at though I never hed ony feelin's, yet, noo 'at it's a' gaein' richt,
+an' ye're a' richt, an' like to be richt for evermair, my heid's jist
+like to split. Gang yer wa's to yer bed, and soon' may ye sleep! It's
+the bed yer bonny mither got a soon' sleep in at last, an' muckle was
+she i' need o' 't! An' jist tak tent the morn what ye say whan Jean's i'
+the room, or maybe o' the ither side o' the door, for she's no mowse. I
+dinna ken what gars me keep the jaud. I believe 'at gien the verra
+deevil himsel' had been wi' me sae lang, I wadna hae the hert to turn
+him aboot his ill business. That's what comes o' haein' no feelin's.
+Ither fowk wad hae gotten rid o' her half a score o' years sin' syne."
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII.
+
+THE TRENCH.
+
+Malcolm had not yet, after all the health-giving of the voyage, entirely
+recovered the effects of the ill-compounded potion. Indeed, sometimes
+the fear crossed his mind that never would he be the same man
+again--that the slow furnace of the grave alone would destroy the vile
+deposit left in his house of life. Hence it came that he was weary, and
+overslept himself the next morning; but it was no great matter: he had
+yet time enough. He swallowed his breakfast as a working man alone can,
+and set out for Duff Harbor. At Leith, where they had put in for
+provisions, he had posted a letter to Mr. Soutar, directing him to have
+Kelpie brought on to his own town, whence he would fetch her himself.
+The distance was about ten miles, the hour eight, and he was a good
+enough walker, although boats and horses had combined to prevent him, he
+confessed, from getting over-fond of Shank's mare. To men who delight in
+the motions of a horse under them the legs of a man are a tame, dull
+means of progression, although they too have their superiorities; and
+one of the disciplines of this world is to get out of the saddle and
+walk afoot. He who can do so with perfect serenity must very nearly have
+learned with Saint Paul in whatsoever state he is, therein to be
+content. It was the loveliest of mornings, however, to be abroad in upon
+any terms, and Malcolm hardly needed the resources of one who knew both
+how to be abased and how to abound--enviable perfection!--for the
+enjoyment of even a long walk. Heaven and earth were just settling to
+the work of the day after their morning prayer, and the whole face of
+things yet wore something of that look of expectation which one who
+mingles the vision of the poet with the faith of the Christian may well
+imagine to be their upward look of hope after a night of groaning and
+travailing--the earnest gaze of the creature waiting for the
+manifestation of the sons of God; and for himself, though the hardest
+thing was yet to come, there was a satisfaction in finding himself
+almost up to his last fence, with the heavy ploughed land through which
+he had been floundering nearly all behind him; which figure means that
+he had almost made up his mind what to do.
+
+When he reached the Duff Arms he walked straight into the yard, where
+the first thing he saw was a stable-boy in the air, hanging on to a
+twitch on the nose of the rearing Kelpie. In another instant he would
+have been killed or maimed for life, and Kelpie loose and scouring the
+streets of Duff Harbor. When she heard Malcolm's voice and the sound of
+his running feet she dropped as if to listen. He flung the boy aside and
+caught her halter. Once or twice more she reared in the vain hope of so
+ridding herself of the pain that clung to her lip and nose, nor did she,
+through the mist of her anger and suffering, quite recognize her master
+in his yacht-uniform. But the torture decreasing, she grew able to scent
+his presence, welcomed him with her usual glad whinny, and allowed him
+to to do with her as he would.
+
+Having fed her, found Mr. Soutar and arranged several matters with him,
+he set out for home.
+
+That was a ride! Kelpie was mad with life. Every available field he
+jumped her into, and she tore its element of space at least to shreds
+with her spurning hoofs. But the distance was not great enough to quiet
+her before they got to hard turnpike and young plantations. He would
+have entered at the grand gate, but found no one at the lodge, for the
+factor, to save a little, had dismissed the old keeper. He had therefore
+to go on, and through the town, where, to the awe-stricken eyes of the
+population peeping from doors and windows, it seemed as if the terrible
+horse would carry him right over the roofs of the fisher-cottages below
+and out to sea. "Eh, but he's a terrible cratur, that Ma'colm MacPhail!"
+said the old wives to each other, and felt there must be something
+wicked in him to ride like that.
+
+But he turned her aside from the steep hill, and passed along the street
+that led to the town-gate of the House. Whom should he see, as he turned
+into it, but Mrs. Catanach, standing on her own doorstep, opposite the
+descent to the Seaton, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking far
+out over the water through the green smoke of the village below! It had
+been her wont to gaze thus since ever he could remember her, though what
+she could at such times be looking for, except it were the devil in
+person, he found it hard to conjecture. At the sound of his approach she
+turned; and such an expression crossed her face in a momentary flash ere
+she disappeared in the house as added considerably to his knowledge of
+fallen humanity. Before he reached her door she was out again, tying on
+a clean white apron as she came, and smiling like a dark pool in
+sunshine. She dropped a low curtsey, and looked as if she had been
+occupying her house for months of his absence. But Malcolm would not
+meet even cunning with its own weapons, and therefore turned away his
+head and took no notice of her. She ground her teeth with the fury of
+hate, and swore that she would yet disappoint him of his purpose,
+whatever it were, in this masquerade of service. Her heart being
+scarcely of the calibre to comprehend one like Malcolm's, her theories
+for the interpretation of the mystery were somewhat wild and altogether
+of a character unfit to see the light.
+
+The keeper of the town-gate greeted Malcolm, as he let him in, with a
+pleased old face and words of welcome, but added instantly, as if it was
+no time for the indulgence of friendship, that it was a terrible
+business going on at the Nose.
+
+"What is it?" asked Malcolm in alarm.
+
+"Ye hae been ower lang awa', I doobt," answered the man, "to ken hoo the
+factor--But, Lord save ye! haud yer tongue," he interjected, looking
+fearfully around him. "Gien he kenned 'at I said sic a thing, he wad
+turn me oot o' hoose an' ha'."
+
+"You've said nothing yet," returned Malcolm.
+
+"I said _factor_, an' that same's 'maist eneuch, for he's like a roarin'
+lion an' a ragin' bear amang the people; an' that sin' ever ye gaed. Bow
+o' Meal said i' the meetin' the ither nicht 'at he bude to be the verra
+man, the wickit ruler propheseed o' sae lang sin' syne i' the beuk o'
+the Proverbs. Eh! it's an awfu' thing to be foreordeent to
+oonrichteousness!"
+
+"But you haven't told me what is the matter at Scaurnose," said Malcolm
+impatiently.
+
+"Ow, it's jist this--'at this same's Midsimmer Day, an' Blue
+Peter--honest fallow!--he's been for the last three month un'er nottice
+frae the factor to quit. An' sae, ye see--"
+
+"To quit!" exclaimed Malcolm. "Sic a thing was never h'ard tell o'."
+
+"Haith! it's h'ard tell o' noo," returned the gate-keeper. "Quittin' 's
+as plenty as quicken (_couch-grass_). 'Deed, there's maist naething
+ither h'ard tell o' _bit_ quittin', for the full half o' Scaurnose is
+un'er like nottice for Michaelmas, an' the Lord kens what it 'll a' en'
+in!"
+
+"But what's it for? Blue Peter's no the man to misbehave himsel'."
+
+"Weel, ye ken mair yersel' nor ony ither as to the warst fau't there is
+to lay till 's chairge; for they say--that is, _some_ say--it's a' yer
+ain wyte, Ma'colm."
+
+"What mean ye, man? Speyk oot," said Malcolm.
+
+"They say it's a' anent the abduckin' o' the markis's boat, 'at you an'
+him gaed aff wi' thegither."
+
+"That'll hardly haud, seein' the marchioness hersel' cam' hame in her
+the last nicht."
+
+"Ay, but ye see the decree's gane oot, and what the factor says is like
+the laws o' the Medes an' Persians, 'at they say's no to be altert: I
+kenna mysel'."
+
+"Ow weel, gien that be a', I'll see efter that wi' the marchioness."
+
+"Ay, but ye see there's a lot o' the laads there, as I'm tellt, 'at has
+vooed 'at factor nor factor's man sall never set fut in Scaurnose frae
+this day furth. Gang ye doon to the Seaton, an' see hoo mony o' yer auld
+freen's ye'll fin' there. Man, there a' oot to Scaurnose to see the
+plisky. The factor he's there, I ken--and some constables wi' 'im--to
+see 'at his order's cairried oot. An' the laads they hae been
+fortifeein' the place, as they ca' 't, for the last ook. They've howkit
+a trenk, they tell me, 'at nane but a hunter on 's horse cud win ower,
+an' they're postit alang the toon-side o' 't wi' sticks an' stanes an
+boat-heuks, an' guns an' pistils. An' gien there bena a man or twa killt
+a'ready--"
+
+Before he finished his sentence Kelpie was leveling herself along the
+road for the sea-gate.
+
+Johnny Bykes was locking it on the other side, in haste to secure his
+eye-share of what was going on, when he caught sight of Malcolm tearing
+up. Mindful of the old grudge, also that there was no marquis now to
+favor his foe, he finished the arrested act of turning the key, drew it
+from the lock, and to Malcolm's orders, threats and appeals returned for
+all answer that he had no time to attend to _him_, and so left him
+looking through the bars. Malcolm dashed across the burn, and round the
+base of the hill on which stood the little wind-god blowing his horn,
+dismounted, unlocked the door in the wall, got Kelpie through, and was
+in the saddle again before Johnny was halfway from the gate. When the
+churl saw him he trembled, turned and ran for its shelter again in
+terror, nor perceived until he reached it that the insulted groom had
+gone off like the wind in the opposite direction.
+
+Malcolm soon left the high-road and cut across the fields, over which
+the wind bore cries and shouts, mingled with laughter and the animal
+sounds of coarse jeering. When he came nigh the cart-road which led into
+the village he saw at the entrance of the street a crowd, and rising
+from it the well-known shape of the factor on his horse. Nearer the sea,
+where was another entrance through the back yards of some cottages, was
+a smaller crowd. Both were now pretty silent, for the attention of all
+was fixed on Malcolm's approach. As he drew up Kelpie foaming and
+prancing, and the group made way for her, he saw a deep wide ditch
+across the road, on whose opposite side was ranged irregularly the
+flower of Scaurnose's younger manhood, calmly, even merrily, prepared to
+defend their entrenchment. They had been chaffing the factor, and loudly
+challenging the constables to come on, when they recognized Malcolm in
+the distance, and expectancy stayed the rush of their bruising wit. For
+they regarded him as beyond a doubt come from the marchioness with
+messages of good-will. When he rode up, therefore, they raised a great
+shout, every one welcoming him by name. But the factor--who, to judge by
+appearances, had had his forenoon dram ere he left home--burning with
+wrath, moved his horse in between Malcolm and the ditch. He had
+self-command enough left, however, to make one attempt at the loftily
+superior. "Pray what is your business?" he said, as if he had never seen
+Malcolm in his life before. "I presume you come with a message."
+
+"I come to beg you, sir, not to go farther with this business. Surely
+the punishment is already enough," said Malcolm respectfully.
+
+"Who sends me the message?" asked the factor, his lips pressed together
+and his eyes flaming.
+
+"One," answered Malcolm, "who has some influence for justice, and will
+use it upon whichever side the justice may lie."
+
+"Go to hell!" cried the factor, losing utterly his slender self-command
+and raising his whip.
+
+Malcolm took no heed of the gesture, for he was at the moment beyond his
+reach. "Mr. Crathie," he said calmly, "you are banishing the best man in
+the place."
+
+"No doubt! no doubt! seeing he's a crony of yours," laughed the factor
+in mighty scorn.--"A canting, prayer-meeting rascal!" he added.
+
+"Is that ony waur nor a drucken elyer o' the kirk?" cried Dubs from the
+other side of the ditch, raising a roar of laughter.
+
+The very purple left the factor's face and turned to a corpse-like gray
+in the fire of his fury.
+
+"Come, come, my men! that's going too far," said Malcolm.
+
+"An' wha ir ye for a fudgie (_truant_) fisher, to gie coonsel ohn
+speired?" shouted Dubs, altogether disappointed in the part Malcolm
+seemed only able to take. "Haud to the factor there wi' yer coonsel!"
+
+"Get out of my way!" said Mr. Crathie through his set teeth, and came
+straight upon Malcolm. "Home with you, or-r-r-r--" And again he raised
+his whip, this time plainly with intent.
+
+"For God's sake, factor, min' the mere!" cried Malcolm. "Ribs an' legs
+an' a' 'ill be to crack gien ye anger her wi' yer whuppin'!" As he spoke
+he drew a little aside, that the factor might pass if he pleased. A
+noise arose in the smaller crowd, and Malcolm turned to see what it
+meant: off his guard, he received a stinging cut over the head from the
+factor's whip. Simultaneously, Kelpie stood up on end, and Malcolm tore
+the weapon from the treacherous hand. "If I gave you what you deserve,
+Mr. Crathie, I should knock you and your horse together into that ditch.
+A touch of the spur would do it. I am not quite sure that I ought not.
+A nature like yours takes forbearance for fear." While he spoke, his
+mare was ramping and kicking, making a clean sweep all about her. Mr.
+Crathie's horse turned restive from sympathy, and it was all his rider
+could do to keep his seat. As soon as he got Kelpie a little quieter,
+Malcolm drew near and returned him his whip. He snatched it from his
+outstretched hand and essayed a second cut at him, which Malcolm
+rendered powerless by pushing Kelpie close up to him. Then suddenly
+wheeling, he left him.
+
+On the other side of the trench the fellows were shouting and roaring
+with laughter.
+
+"Men!" cried Malcolm, "you have no right to stop up this road. I want to
+go and see Blue Peter."
+
+"Come on, than!" cried one of the young men, emulous of Dubs's humor,
+and spread out his arms as if to receive Kelpie to his bosom.
+
+"Stand out of the way: I'm coming," said Malcolm. As he spoke he took
+Kelpie a little round, keeping out of the way of the factor, who sat
+trembling with rage on his still excited animal, and sent her at the
+trench. The Deevil's Jock, as they called him, kept jumping, with his
+arms outspread, from one place to another, as if to receive Kelpie's
+charge; but when he saw her actually coming, in short, quick bounds,
+straight to the trench, he was seized with terror, and, half paralyzed,
+slipped as he turned to flee and rolled into the ditch, just in time to
+see Kelpie fly over his head. His comrades scampered right and left, and
+Malcolm, rather disgusted, took no notice of them.
+
+A cart, loaded with their little all, the horse in the shafts, was
+standing at Peter's door, but nobody was near it. Hardly had Malcolm
+entered the close, however, when out rushed Annie, and heedless of
+Kelpie's demonstrative repellence, reached up her hands like a child,
+caught him by the arm while yet he was busied with his troublesome
+charge, drew him down toward her and held him till, in spite of Kelpie,
+she had kissed him again and again. "Eh, Ma'colm! eh, my lord!" she
+said, "ye hae saved my faith. I kenned ye wad come."
+
+"Haud yer tongue, Annie: I maunna be kenned," said Malcolm.
+
+"There's nae danger. They'll tak it for sweirin'," said Annie, laughing
+and crying both at once.
+
+But next came Blue Peter, his youngest child in his arms.
+
+"Eh, Peter, man! I'm bleythe to see ye," cried Malcolm. "Gie 's a grup
+o' yer honest han'."
+
+More than even the sight of his face, beaming with pleasure, more than
+that grasp of the hand that would have squeezed the life out of a
+polecat, was the sound of the mother-tongue from his lips. The cloud of
+Peter's long distrust broke and vanished, and the sky of his soul was
+straightway a celestial blue. He snatched his hand from Malcolm's,
+walked back into the empty house, ran into the little closet off the
+kitchen, bolted the door, fell on his knees in the void little sanctuary
+that had of late been the scene of so many foiled attempts to lift up
+his heart, and poured out speechless thanksgiving to the God of all
+grace and consolation, who had given him back his friend, and that in
+the time of his sore need. So true was his heart in its love that,
+giving thanks for his friend, he forgot he was the marquis of Lossie,
+before whom his enemy was but as a snail in the sun. When he rose from
+his knees and went out again, his face shining and his eyes misty, his
+wife was on the top of the cart, tying a rope across the cradle.
+
+"Peter," said Malcolm, "ye was quite richt to gang, but I'm glaid they
+didna lat ye."
+
+"I wad hae been halfw'y to Port Gordon or noo," said Peter.
+
+"But noo ye'll no gang to Port Gordon," said Malcolm. "Ye'll jist gang
+to the Salmon for a feow days till we see hoo things'll gang."
+
+"I'll du onything ye like, Ma'colm," said Peter, and went into the house
+to fetch his bonnet.
+
+In the street arose the cry of a woman, and into the close rushed one of
+the fisher-wives, followed by the factor. He had found a place on the
+eastern side of the village, whither he had slipped unobserved, where,
+jumping a low earth-wall, he got into a little back yard. He was
+trampling over its few stocks of kail and its one dusty miller and
+double daisy when the woman to whose cottage it belonged caught sight of
+him through her window, and running out fell to abusing him, doubtless
+in no measured language. He rode at her in his rage, and she fled
+shrieking into Peter's close and behind the cart, never ceasing her
+vituperation, but calling him every choice name in her vocabulary.
+Beside himself with the rage of murdered dignity, he struck at her over
+the corner of the cart. Thereupon from the top of it Annie Mair ventured
+to expostulate: "Hoot, sir! It's no mainners to lat at a wuman like
+that."
+
+He turned upon her, and gave her a cut on the arm and hand so stinging
+that she cried out, and nearly fell from the cart. Out rushed Peter and
+flew at the factor, who from his seat of vantage began to ply his whip
+about his head. But Malcolm, who, when the factor appeared, had moved
+aside to keep Kelpie out of mischief, and saw only the second of the two
+assaults, came forward with a scramble and a bound. "Haud awa', Peter!"
+he cried: "this belangs to me. I gae 'im back 's whup, an' sae I'm
+accoontable.--Mr. Crathie"--and as he spoke he edged his mare up to the
+panting factor--"the man who strikes a woman must be taught that he is a
+scoundrel, and that office I take. I would do the same if you were the
+lord of Lossie instead of his factor."
+
+Mr. Crathie, knowing himself now in the wrong, was a little frightened
+at the set speech, and began to bluster and stammer, but the swift
+descent of Malcolm's heavy riding-whip on his shoulders and back made
+him voluble in curses. Then began a battle that could not last long with
+such odds on the side of justice. It was gazed at from the mouth of the
+close by many spectators, but none dared enter because of the capering
+and plunging and kicking of the horses. In less than a minute the
+factor turned to flee, and spurring out of the court galloped up the
+street at full stretch.
+
+"Haud oot o' the gait!" cried Malcolm, and rode after him. But more
+careful of the people, he did not get a good start, and the factor was
+over the trench and into the fields before he caught him up. Then again
+the stinging switch buckled about the shoulders of the oppressor with
+all the force of Malcolm's brawny arm. The factor yelled and cursed and
+swore, and still Malcolm plied the whip, and still the horses flew over
+fields and fences and ditches. At length in the last field, from which
+they must turn into the high-road, the factor groaned out, "For God's
+sake, Ma'colm, hae mercy!"
+
+The youth's uplifted arm fell by his side. He turned his mare's head,
+and when the factor ventured to turn his, he saw the avenger already
+halfway back to Scaurnose, and the constables in full flight meeting
+him.
+
+While Malcolm was thus occupied his sister was writing to Lady Bellair.
+She told her that, having gone out for a sail in her yacht, which she
+had sent for from Scotland, the desire to see her home had overpowered
+her to such a degree that of the intended sail she had made a voyage,
+and here she was, longing just as much now to see Lady Bellair; and if
+she thought proper to bring a gentleman with her to take care of her, he
+also should be welcome for her sake. It was a long way for her to come,
+she said, and Lady Bellair knew what sort of a place it was, but there
+was nobody in London now, and if she had nothing more enticing on her
+tablets, etc., etc. She ended with begging her, if she was inclined to
+make her happy with her presence, to bring to her Caley and her hound
+Demon. She had hardly finished when Malcolm presented himself. She
+received him very coldly, and declined to listen to anything about the
+fishers. She insisted that, being one of their party, he was prejudiced
+in their favor, and that of course a man of Mr. Crathie's experience
+must know better than he what ought to be done with such people in view
+of protecting her rights and keeping them in order. She declared that
+she was not going to disturb the old way of things to please him, and
+said that he had now done her all the mischief he could, except indeed
+he were to head the fishers and sack Lossie House. Malcolm found that
+instead of gaining any advantage by making himself known to her as her
+brother, he had but given her confidence in speaking her mind to him,
+and set her free from considerations of personal dignity when she
+desired to humiliate him. But he was a good deal surprised at the
+ability with which she set forth and defended her own view of her
+affairs, for she did not tell him that the Rev. Mr. Cairns had been with
+her all the morning, flattering her vanity, worshiping her power and
+generally instructing her in her own greatness--also putting in a word
+or two anent his friend Mr. Crathie, and his troubles with her
+ladyship's fisher-tenants. She was still, however, so far afraid of her
+brother--which state of feeling was perhaps the main cause of her
+insulting behavior to him--that she sat in some dread lest he might
+chance to see the address of the letter she had been writing.
+
+I may mention here that Lady Bellair accepted the invitation with
+pleasure for herself and Liftore, promised to bring Caley, but utterly
+declined to take charge of Demon or allow him to be of the party.
+Thereupon, Florimel, who was fond of the animal, and feared much, as he
+was no favorite, that something would _happen_ to him, wrote to
+Clementina, praying her to visit her in her lovely loneliness--good as
+The Gloom in its way, though not quite so dark--and to add a hair to the
+weight of her obligation if she complied by allowing her deerhound to
+accompany her. Clementina was the only one, she said, of her friends for
+whom the animal had ever shown a preference.
+
+Malcolm retired from his sister's presence much depressed, saw Mrs.
+Courthope, who was kind as ever, and betook himself to his old room,
+next to that in which his strange history began. There he sat down and
+wrote urgently to Lenorme, stating that he had an important
+communication to make, and begging him to start for the North the
+moment he received the letter. A messenger from Duff Harbor well mounted
+would ensure Malcolm's presence within a couple of hours.
+
+He found the behavior of his old acquaintances and friends in the Seaton
+much what he had expected: the few were as cordial as ever, while the
+many still resented, with a mingling of the jealousy of affection, his
+forsaking of the old life for one they regarded as unworthy of a bred at
+least, if not born, fisherman. A few there were still who always had
+been, for reasons known only to themselves, less than friendly. The
+women were all cordial.
+
+"Sic a mad-like thing," said old Futtocks, who was now the leader of the
+assembly at the Barn, "to gang scoorin' the cuintry on that mad brute o'
+a mere! What guid, think ye, can come o' sic-like?"
+
+"H'ard ye 'im ever tell the story aboot Colonsay Castel yon'er?"
+
+"Ay, hev I."
+
+"Weel, isna his mere 'at they ca' Kelpie jest the pictur' o' the deil's
+ain horse 'at lay at the door an' watched whan he flaw oot, an' tuik the
+wa' wi' 'im?"
+
+"I cudna say till I saw whether the deil himsel' cud gar her lie still."
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX.
+
+THE PEACEMAKER.
+
+The heroes of Scaurnose expected a renewal of the attack, and in greater
+force, the next day, and made their preparations accordingly,
+strengthening every weak point around the village. They were put in
+great heart by Malcolm's espousal of their cause, as they considered his
+punishment of the factor; but most of them set it down in their wisdom
+as resulting from the popular condemnation of his previous supineness.
+It did not therefore add greatly to his influence with them. When he
+would have prevailed upon them to allow Blue Peter to depart, arguing
+that they had less right to prevent than the factor had to compel him,
+they once more turned upon him: what right had he to dictate to them?
+he did not belong to Scaurnose. He reasoned with them that the factor,
+although he had not justice, had law on his side, and could turn out
+whom he pleased. They said, "Let him try it!" He told them that they had
+given great provocation, for he knew that the men they had assaulted
+came surveying for a harbor, and that they ought at least to make some
+apology for having maltreated them. It was all useless: that was the
+women's doing, they said; besides, they did not believe him; and if what
+he said was true, what was the thing to them, seeing they were all under
+notice to leave? Malcolm said that perhaps an apology would be accepted.
+They told him if he did not take himself off they would serve him as he
+had served the factor. Finding expostulation a failure, therefore, he
+begged Joseph and Annie to settle themselves again as comfortably as
+they could, and left them.
+
+Contrary to the expectation of all, however, and considerably to the
+disappointment of the party of Dubs, Fite Folp and the rest, the next
+day was as peaceful as if Scaurnose had been a halcyon nest floating on
+the summer waves; and it was soon reported that in consequence of the
+punishment he had received from Malcolm the factor was far too ill to be
+troublesome to any but his wife. This was true, but, severe as his
+chastisement was, it was not severe enough to have had any such
+consequences but for his late growing habit of drinking whisky. As it
+was, fever had followed upon the combination of bodily and mental
+suffering. But already it had wrought this good in him, that he was far
+more keenly aware of the brutality of the offence of which he had been
+guilty than he would otherwise have been all his life through. To his
+wife, who first learned the reason of Malcolm's treatment of him from
+his delirious talk in the night, it did not, circumstances considered,
+appear an enormity, and her indignation with the avenger of it, whom she
+had all but hated before, was furious. Malcolm, on his part, was greatly
+concerned to hear the result of his severity. He refrained, however,
+from calling to inquire, knowing it would be interpreted as an insult,
+not accepted as a sign of sympathy. He went to the doctor instead, who,
+to his consternation, looked very serious at first. But when he learned
+all about the affair, he changed his view considerably, and condescended
+to give good hopes of his coming through, even adding that it would
+lengthen his life by twenty years if it broke him of his habits of
+whisky-drinking and rage.
+
+And now Malcolm had a little time of leisure, which he put to the best
+possible use in strengthening his relations with the fishers. For he had
+nothing to do about the House except look after Kelpie; and Florimel, as
+if determined to make him feel that he was less to her than before, much
+as she used to enjoy seeing him sit his mare, never took him out with
+her--always Stoat. He resolved therefore, seeing he must yet delay
+action a while in the hope of the appearance of Lenorme, to go out as in
+the old days after the herring, both for the sake of splicing, if
+possible, what strands had been broken between him and the fishers, and
+of renewing for himself the delights of elemental conflict. With these
+views he hired himself to the Partan, whose boat's crew was
+short-handed. And now, night after night, he reveled in the old
+pleasure, enhanced by so many months of deprivation. Joy itself seemed
+embodied in the wind blowing on him out of the misty infinite while his
+boat rocked and swung on the waters, hanging between two worlds--that in
+which the wind blew, and that other dark-swaying mystery whereinto the
+nets to which it was tied went away down and down, gathering the harvest
+of the ocean. It was as if Nature called up all her motherhood to greet
+and embrace her long-absent son. When it came on to blow hard, as it did
+once and again during those summer nights, instead of making him feel
+small and weak in the midst of the storming forces, it gave him a
+glorious sense of power and unconquerable life. And when his watch was
+out, and the boat lay quiet, like a horse tethered and asleep in his
+clover-field, he too would fall asleep with a sense of simultaneously
+deepening and vanishing delight such as he had not at all in other
+conditions experienced. Ever since the poison had got into his system,
+and crept where it yet lay lurking in hidden corners and crannies, a
+noise at night would on shore startle him awake, and set his heart
+beating hard; but no loudest sea-noise ever woke him: the stronger the
+wind flapped its wings around him, the deeper he slept. When a comrade
+called him by name he was up at once and wide awake.
+
+It answered also all his hopes in regard to his companions and the
+fisher-folk generally. Those who had really known him found the same old
+Malcolm, and those who had doubted him soon began to see that at least
+he had lost nothing in courage or skill or good-will: ere long he was
+even a greater favorite than before. On his part, he learned to
+understand far better the nature of his people, as well as the
+individual characters of them, for his long (but not too long) absence
+and return enabled him to regard them with unaccustomed, and therefore
+in some respects more discriminating, eyes.
+
+Duncan's former dwelling happening to be then occupied by a lonely
+woman, Malcolm made arrangements with her to take them both in; so that
+in relation to his grandfather too something very much like the old life
+returned for a time--with this difference, that Duncan soon began to
+check himself as often as the name of his hate with its accompanying
+curse rose to his lips.
+
+The factor continued very ill. He had sunk into a low state, in which
+his former indulgence was greatly against him. Every night the fever
+returned, and at length his wife was worn out with watching and waiting
+upon him.
+
+And every morning Lizzy Findlay without fail called to inquire how Mr.
+Crathie had spent the night. To the last, while quarreling with every
+one of her neighbors with whom he had anything to do, he had continued
+kind to her, and she was more grateful than one in other trouble than
+hers could have understood. But she did not know that an element in the
+origination of his kindness was the belief that it was by Malcolm she
+had been wronged and forsaken.
+
+Again and again she had offered, in the humblest manner, to ease his
+wife's burden by sitting with him at night; and at last, finding she
+could hold up no longer, Mrs. Crathie consented. But even after a week
+she found herself still unable to resume the watching, and so, night
+after night, resting at home during a part of the day, Lizzy sat by the
+sleeping factor, and when he woke ministered to him like a daughter. Nor
+did even her mother object, for sickness is a wondrous reconciler.
+Little did the factor suspect, however, that it was partly for Malcolm's
+sake she nursed him, anxious to shield the youth from any possible
+consequences of his righteous vengeance.
+
+While their persecutor lay thus, gradually everything at Scaurnose, and
+consequently at the Seaton, lapsed into its old way, and the summer of
+such content as before they had possessed returned to the fishers. I
+fear it would have proved hard for some of them, had they made effort in
+that direction, to join in the prayer--if prayer it may be called--put
+up in church for him every Sunday. What a fearful canopy the prayers
+that do not get beyond the atmosphere would make if they turned brown
+with age! Having so lately seen the factor going about like a maniac,
+raving at this piece of damage and that heap of dirt, the few fishers
+present could never help smiling when Mr. Cairns prayed for
+him as "the servant of God and his Church now lying grievously
+afflicted--persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed."
+Having found the fitting phrases, he seldom varied them.
+
+Through her sorrow Lizzy had grown tender, as through her shame she had
+grown wise. That the factor had been much in the wrong only rendered her
+anxious sympathy the more eager to serve him. Knowing so well what it
+was to have done wrong, she was pitiful over him, and her ministrations
+were none the less devoted that she knew exactly how Malcolm thought and
+felt about him; for the affair, having taken place in open village and
+wide field and in the light of mid-day, and having been reported by
+eye-witnesses many, was everywhere perfectly known, and Malcolm
+therefore talked of it freely to his friends--among them both to Lizzy
+and her mother.
+
+Sickness sometimes works marvelous changes, and the most marvelous on
+persons who to the ordinary observer seem the least liable to change.
+Much apparent steadfastness of nature, however, is but sluggishness, and
+comes from incapacity to generate change or contribute toward personal
+growth; and it follows that those whose nature is such can as little
+prevent or retard any change that has its initiative beyond them. The
+men who impress the world as the mightiest are those often who _can_ the
+least--never those who can the most in their natural kingdom; generally
+those whose frontiers lie openest to the inroads of temptation, whose
+atmosphere is most subject to moody changes and passionate convulsions,
+who, while perhaps they can whisper laws to a hemisphere, can utter no
+decree of smallest potency as to how things shall be within themselves.
+Place Alexander ille Magnus beside Malcolm's friend Epictetus, ille
+servorum servus--take his crutch from the slave and set the hero upon
+his Bucephalus, but set them alone and in a desert--which will prove the
+great man? which the unchangeable? The question being what the man
+himself shall or shall not be, shall or shall not feel, shall or shall
+not recognize as of himself and troubling the motions of his being,
+Alexander will prove a mere earth-bubble, Epictetus a cavern in which
+pulses the tide of the eternal and infinite Sea.
+
+But then first, when the false strength of the self-imagined great man
+is gone, when the want or the sickness has weakened the self-assertion
+which is so often mistaken for strength of individuality, when the
+occupations in which he formerly found a comfortable consciousness of
+being have lost their interest, his ambitions their glow and his
+consolations their color, when suffering has wasted away those upper
+strata of his factitious consciousness, and laid bare the lower,
+simpler, truer deeps, of which he has never known or has forgotten the
+existence, then there is a hope of his commencing a new and real life.
+Powers then, even powers within himself, of which he knew nothing, begin
+to assert themselves, and the man commonly reported to possess a strong
+will is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. This
+factor, this man of business, this despiser of humbug, to whom the
+scruples of a sensitive conscience were a contempt, would now lie awake
+in the night and weep. "Ah!" I hear it answered, "but that was the
+weakness caused by his illness." True; but what then had become of his
+strength? And was it all weakness? What if this weakness was itself a
+sign of returning life, not of advancing death--of the dawn of a new and
+genuine strength? For he wept because in the visions of his troubled
+brain he saw once more the cottage of his father the shepherd, with all
+its store of lovely nothings round which the nimbus of sanctity had
+gathered while he thought not of them; wept over the memory of that
+moment of delight when his mother kissed him for parting with his willow
+whistle to the sister who cried for it: he cried now in his turn, after
+five-and-fifty years, for not yet had the little fact done with him, not
+yet had the kiss of his mother lost its power on the man; wept over the
+sale of the pet lamb, though he had himself sold thousands of lambs
+since; wept over even that bush of dusty miller by the door, like the
+one he trampled under his horse's feet in the little yard at Scaurnose
+that horrible day. And oh that nest of wild bees with its combs of honey
+unspeakable! He used to laugh and sing then: he laughed still
+sometimes--he could hear how he laughed, and it sounded frightful--but
+he never sang. Were the tears that honored such childish memories all of
+weakness? Was it cause of regret that he had not been wicked enough to
+have become impregnable to such foolish trifles? Unable to mount a
+horse, unable to give an order, not caring even for his toddy, he was
+left at the mercy of his fundamentals: his childhood came up and
+claimed him, and he found the childish things he had put away better
+than the manly things he had adopted. It is one thing for Saint Paul and
+another for Mr. Worldly Wiseman to put away childish things. The ways
+they do it, and the things they substitute, are both so different! And
+now first to me, whose weakness it is to love life more than manners,
+and men more than their portraits, the man begins to grow interesting.
+Picture the dawn of innocence on a dull, whisky-drinking, commonplace
+soul, stained by self-indulgence and distorted by injustice! Unspeakably
+more interesting and lovely is to me such a dawn than the honeymoon of
+the most passionate of lovers, except indeed I know them such lovers
+that their love will out-last all the moons.
+
+"I'm a poor creature, Lizzy," he said, turning his heavy face one
+midnight toward the girl as she sat half dozing, ready to start awake.
+
+"God comfort ye, sir!" said the girl.
+
+"He'll take good care of that," returned the factor. "What did I ever do
+to deserve it? There's that MacPhail, now--to think of _him_! Didn't I
+do what man could for him? Didn't I keep him about the place when all
+the rest were dismissed? Didn't I give him the key of the library, that
+he might read and improve his mind? And look what comes of it!"
+
+"Ye mean, sir," said Lizzy, quite innocently, "'at that's the w'y ye
+ha'e dune wi' God, an' sae he winna heed ye?"
+
+The factor had meant nothing in the least like it. He had merely been
+talking as the imps of suggestion tossed up. His logic was as sick and
+helpless as himself. So at that he held his peace, stung in his pride at
+least--perhaps in his conscience too, only he was not prepared to be
+rebuked by a girl like her, who had--Well, he must let it pass: how much
+better was he himself?
+
+But Lizzy was loyal: she could not hear him speak so of Malcolm and hold
+her peace as if she agreed in his condemnation. "Ye'll ken Ma'colm
+better some day, sir," she said.
+
+"Well, Lizzy," returned the sick man, in a tone that but for feebleness
+would have been indignant, "I have heard a good deal of the way women
+_will_ stand up for men that have treated them cruelly, but you to stand
+up for _him_ passes!"
+
+"He's been the best friend I ever had," said Lizzy.
+
+"Girl! how can you sit there, and tell me so to my face?" cried the
+factor, his voice strengthened by the righteousness of the reproof it
+bore. "If it were not the dead of the night--"
+
+"I tell ye naething but the trowth, sir," said Lizzy as the contingent
+threat died away. "But ye maun lie still or I maun gang for the
+mistress. Gien ye be the waur the morn, it'll be a' my wyte, 'cause I
+cudna bide to hear sic things said o' Ma'colm."
+
+"Do ye mean to tell me," persisted her charge, heedless of her
+expostulation, "that the fellow who brought you to disgrace, and left
+you with a child you could ill provide for--and I well know never sent
+you a penny all the time he was away, whatever he may have done now--is
+the best friend you ever had?"
+
+"Noo God forgie ye, Maister Crathie, for threipin' sic a thing!" cried
+Lizzy, rising as if she would leave him. "Ma'colm MacPhail's as clear o'
+ony sin like mine as my wee bairnie itsel'."
+
+"Do ye daur tell _me_ he's no the father o' that same, lass?"
+
+"_No_; nor never will be the father o' ony bairn whase mither's no his
+wife!" said Lizzy, with burning cheeks but resolute voice.
+
+The factor, who had risen on his elbow to look her in the face, fell
+back in silence, and neither of them spoke for what seemed to the
+watcher a long time. When she ventured to look at him, he was asleep.
+
+He lay in one of those troubled slumbers into which weakness and
+exhaustion will sometimes pass very suddenly; and in that slumber he had
+a dream which he never forgot. He thought he had risen from his grave
+with an awful sound in his ears, and knew he was wanted at the
+judgment-seat. But he did not want to go, therefore crept into the porch
+of the church and hoped to be forgotten. But suddenly an angel appeared
+with a flaming sword, and drove him out of the churchyard away to
+Scaurnose, where the Judge was sitting. And as he fled in terror before
+the angel he fell, and the angel came and stood over him, and his sword
+flashed torture into his bones, but he could not and dared not rise. At
+last, summoning all his strength, he looked up at him and cried out,
+"Sir, hae mercy, for God's sake!" Instantly all the flames drew back
+into the sword, and the blade dropped, burning like a brand from the
+hilt, which the angel threw away. And lo! it was Malcolm MacPhail, and
+he was stooping to raise him. With that he awoke, and there was Lizzy
+looking down on him anxiously. "What are you looking like that for?" he
+asked crossly.
+
+She did not like to tell him that she had been alarmed by his dropping
+asleep, and in her confusion she fell back on the last subject. "There
+maun be some mistak, Mr. Crathie," she said. "I wuss ye wad tell me what
+gars ye hate Ma'colm MacPhail as ye du."
+
+The factor, although he seemed to himself to know well enough, was yet a
+little puzzled how to commence his reply; and therewith a process began
+that presently turned into something with which never in his life before
+had his inward parts been acquainted--a sort of self-examination, to
+wit. He said to himself, partly in the desire to justify his present
+dislike--he would not call it hate, as Lizzy did--that he used to get on
+with the lad well enough, and had never taken offence at his freedoms,
+making no doubt his manner came of his blood, and he could not help it,
+being a chip of the old block; but when he ran away with the marquis's
+boat, and went to the marchioness and told her lies against him, then
+what could he do but--dislike him?
+
+Arrived at this point, he opened his mouth and gave the substance of
+what preceded it for answer to Lizzy's question. But she replied at
+once: "Nobody 'ill gar me believe, sir, 'at Ma'colm MacPhail ever tellt
+a lee again' you or onybody. I dinna believe he ever tellt a lee in 's
+life. Jist ye exem' him weel anent it, sir. An' for the boat, nae doobt
+it was makin' free to tak it; but ye ken, sir, 'at hoo he was maister
+o' the same. It was in his chairge, an' ye ken little aboot boats
+yersel' or the sailin' o' them, sir."
+
+"But it was me that engaged him again after all the servants at the
+House had been dismissed: he was _my_ servant."
+
+"That maks the thing luik waur, nae doobt," allowed Lizzy, with
+something of cunning. "Hoo was't at he cam to du 't ava' (_of all at
+all_), sir? Can ye min'?" she pursued.
+
+"I discharged him."
+
+"An' what for, gien I may mak bold to speir, sir?" she went on.
+
+"For insolence."
+
+"Wad ye tell me hoo he answert ye? Dinna think me meddlin', sir: I'm
+clear certain there's been some mistak. Ye cudna be sae guid to me an'
+be ill to him, ohn some mistak."
+
+It was consoling to the conscience of the factor, in regard of his
+behavior to the two women, to hear his own praise for kindness from a
+woman's lips. He took no offence, therefore, at her persistent
+questioning, but told her as well and as truly as he could remember,
+with no more than the all-but unavoidable exaggeration with which
+feeling _will_ color fact, the whole passage between Malcolm and himself
+concerning the sale of Kelpie, and closed with an appeal to the judgment
+of his listener, in which he confidently anticipated her verdict: "A
+most ridic'lous thing! ye can see yersel' as weel 's onybody, Lizzy. An'
+sic a thing to ca' an honest man like mysel' a hypocreet for! ha! ha!
+ha! There's no a bairn atween John o' Groat's an' the Lan's En' disna
+ken 'at the seller o' a horse is b'un' to reese (_extol_) him, an' the
+buyer to tak care o' himsel'. I'll no say it's jist allooable to tell a
+doonricht lee, but ye may come full nearer till't in horse-dealin', ohn
+sinned, nor in ony ither kin' o' merchandeze. It's like luve an' war, in
+baith which, it's weel kenned, a' thing's fair. The saw sud rin--_Luve
+an' war an' horse-dealin'._--Divna ye see, Lizzy?"
+
+But Lizzy did not answer, and the factor, hearing a stifled sob, started
+to his elbow.
+
+"Lie still, sir!" said Lizzy. "It's naething. I was only jist thinkin'
+'at that wad be the w'y 'at the father o' my bairn rizzoned wi' himsel'
+whan he lee'd to me."
+
+"Hey!" said the astonished factor, and in his turn held his peace,
+trying to think.
+
+Now, Lizzy for the last few months had been going to school--the same
+school with Malcolm, open to all comers--the only school where one is
+sure to be led in the direction of wisdom--and there she had been
+learning to some purpose, as plainly appeared before she had done with
+the factor.
+
+"Whase Kirk are ye elder o', Maister Crathie?" she asked presently.
+
+"Ow, the Kirk o' Scotlan', of coorse," answered the patient, in some
+surprise at her ignorance.
+
+"Ay, ay," returned Lizzy; "but whase aucht (_owning, property_) is 't?"
+
+"Ow, whase but the Redeemer's?"
+
+"An' div ye think, Mr. Crathie, 'at gien Jesus Christ had had a horse to
+sell, he wad hae hidden frae him 'at wad buy ae hair o' a fau't 'at the
+beast hed? Wad he no hae dune till's neiper as he wad hae his neiper du
+to him?"
+
+"Lassie! lassie! tak care hoo ye even _Him_ to sic-like as hiz (_us_).
+What wad _He_ hae to du wi' horseflesh?"
+
+Lizzy held her peace. Here was no room for argument. He had flung the
+door of his conscience in the face of her who woke it. But it was too
+late, for the word was in already. Oh that false reverence which men
+substitute for adoring obedience, and wherewith they reprove the
+childlike spirit that does not know another kingdom than that of God and
+that of Mammon! God never gave man thing to do concerning which it were
+irreverent to ponder how the Son of God would have done it.
+
+But, I say, the word was in, and, partly no doubt from its following so
+close upon the dream the factor had had, was potent in its operation. He
+fell a-thinking, and a-thinking more honestly than he had thought for
+many a day. And presently it was revealed to him that, if he were in the
+horse-market wanting to buy, and a man there who had to sell said to
+him, "He wadna du for you, sir: ye wad be tired o' 'im in a week," he
+would never remark, "What a fool the fellow is!" but, "Weel, noo, I ca'
+that neiborly!" He did not get quite so far just then as to see that
+every man to whom he might want to sell a horse was as much his neighbor
+as his own brother; nor, indeed, if he had got as far, would it have
+indicated much progress in honesty, seeing he would at any time, when
+needful and possible, have cheated that brother in the matter of a horse
+as certainly as he would a Patagonian or Chinaman. But the warped glass
+of a bad maxim had at least been cracked in his window.
+
+The peacemaker sat in silence the rest of the night, but the factor's
+sleep was broken, and at times he wandered. He was not so well the next
+day, and his wife, gathering that Lizzy had been talking, and herself
+feeling better, would not allow her to sit up with him any more.
+
+Days and days passed, and still Malcolm had no word from Lenorme, and
+was getting hopeless in respect to that quarter of possible aid. But so
+long as Florimel could content herself with the quiet of Lossie House,
+there was time to wait, he said to himself. She was not idle, and that
+was promising. Every day she rode out with Stoat. Now and then she would
+make a call in the neighborhood, and, apparently to trouble Malcolm,
+took care to let him know that on one of these occasions her call had
+been upon Mrs. Stewart. One thing he did feel was, that she made no
+renewal of her friendship with his grandfather: she had, alas! outgrown
+the girlish fancy. Poor Duncan took it much to heart. She saw more of
+the minister and his wife--who both flattered her--than anybody else,
+and was expecting the arrival of Lady Bellair and Lord Liftore with the
+utmost impatience. They, for their part, were making the journey by the
+easiest possible stages, tacking and veering, and visiting every one of
+their friends that lay between London and Lossie: they thought to give
+Florimel the little lesson that, though they accepted her invitation,
+they had plenty of friends in the world besides her ladyship, and were
+not dying to see her.
+
+One evening, Malcolm, as he left the grounds of Mr. Morrison, on whom
+he had been calling, saw a traveling-carriage pass toward Portlossie,
+and something liker fear laid hold of his heart than he had ever felt
+except when Florimel and he on the night of the storm took her father
+for Lord Gernon the wizard. As soon as he reached certain available
+fields, he sent Kelpie tearing across them, dodged through a fir wood,
+and came out on the road half a mile in front of the carriage: as again
+it passed him he saw that his fears were facts, for in it sat the
+bold-faced countess and the mean-hearted lord. Something _must_ be done
+at last, and until it was done good watch must be kept.
+
+I must here note that during this time of hoping and waiting Malcolm had
+attended to another matter of importance. Over every element influencing
+his life, his family, his dependants, his property, he desired to
+possess a lawful, honest command: where he had to render account he
+would be head. Therefore, through Mr. Soutar's London agent, to whom he
+sent up Davy, and whom he brought acquainted with Merton and his former
+landlady at the curiosity-shop, he had discovered a good deal about Mrs.
+Catanach from her London associates, among them the herb-doctor and his
+little boy who had watched Davy; and he had now almost completed an
+outline of evidence which, grounded on that of Rose, might be used
+against Mrs. Catanach at any moment. He had also set inquiries on foot
+in the track of Caley's antecedents, and had discovered more than the
+acquaintance between her and Mrs. Catanach. Also he had arranged that
+Hodges, the man who had lost his leg through his cruelty to Kelpie,
+should leave for Duff Harbor as soon as possible after his discharge
+from the hospital. He was determined to crush the evil powers which had
+been ravaging his little world.
+
+
+CHAPTER LX.
+
+AN OFFERING.
+
+Clementina was always ready to accord any reasonable request Florimel
+could make of her; but her letter lifted such a weight from her heart
+and life that she would now have done whatever she desired, reasonable
+or unreasonable, provided only it was honest. She had no difficulty in
+accepting Florimel's explanation that her sudden disappearance was but a
+breaking of the social jail, the flight of the weary bird from its
+foreign cage back to the country of its nest; and that same morning she
+called upon Demon. The hound, feared and neglected, was rejoiced to see
+her, came when she called him, and received her caresses: there was no
+ground for dreading his company. It was a long journey, but if it had
+been across a desert instead of through her own country, the hope that
+lay at the end of it would have made it more than pleasant. She, as well
+as Lady Bellair, had friends upon the way, but no desire either to
+lengthen the journey or shorten its tedium by visiting them.
+
+The letter would have found her at Wastbeach instead of London had not
+the society and instructions of the schoolmaster detained her a willing
+prisoner to its heat and glare and dust. Him only in all London must she
+see to bid good-bye. To Camden Town therefore she went that same
+evening, when his work would be over for the day. As usual now, she was
+shown into his room--his only one. As usual also, she found him poring
+over his Greek Testament. The gracious, graceful woman looked lovelily
+strange in that mean chamber--like an opal in a brass ring. There was no
+such contrast between the room and its occupant. His bodily presence was
+too weak to "stick fiery off" from its surroundings, and to the eye that
+saw through the bodily presence to the inherent grandeur, that grandeur
+suggested no discrepancy, being of the kind that lifts everything to its
+own level, casts the mantle of its own radiance around its surroundings.
+Still, to the eye of love and reverence it was not pleasant to see him
+in such _entourage_, and now that Clementina was going to leave him, the
+ministering spirit that dwelt in the woman was troubled.
+
+"Ah!" he said, and rose as she entered, "this is then the angel of my
+deliverance!" But with such a smile he did not look as if he had much to
+be delivered from. "You see," he went on, "old man as I am, and
+peaceful, the summer will lay hold upon me. She stretches out a long arm
+into this desert of houses and stones, and sets me longing after the
+green fields and the living air--it seems dead here--and the face of
+God, as much as one may behold of the Infinite through the revealing
+veil of earth and sky and sea. Shall I confess my weakness, my poverty
+of spirit, my covetousness after the visual? I was even getting a little
+tired of that glorious God-and-man lover, Saul of Tarsus: no, not of
+him, never of _him_, only of his shadow in his words. Yet perhaps--yes,
+I think so--it is God alone of whom a man can never get tired. Well, no
+matter: tired I was, when lo! here comes my pupil, with more of God in
+her face than all the worlds and their skies He ever made."
+
+"I would my heart were as full of Him too, then, sir," answered
+Clementina. "But if I am anything of a comfort to you, I am more than
+glad; therefore the more sorry to tell you that I am going to leave you,
+though for a little while only, I trust."
+
+"You do not take me by surprise, my lady. I have of course been looking
+forward for some time to my loss and your gain. The world is full of
+little deaths--deaths of all sorts and sizes, rather let me say. For
+this one I was prepared. The good summer-land calls you to its bosom,
+and you must go."
+
+"Come with me," cried Clementina, her eyes eager with the light of the
+sudden thought, while her heart reproached her grievously that only now
+first had it come to her.
+
+"A man must not leave the most irksome work for the most peaceful
+pleasure," answered the schoolmaster. "I am able to live--yes, and do my
+work--without you, my lady," he added with a smile, "though I shall miss
+you sorely."
+
+"But you do not know where I want you to come," she said.
+
+"What difference can that make, my lady, except indeed in the amount of
+pleasure to be refused, seeing this is not a matter of choice? I must be
+with the children whom I have engaged to teach, and whose parents pay me
+for my labor--not with those who, besides, can do well without me."
+
+"I cannot, sir--not for long at least."
+
+"What! not with Malcolm to supply my place?"
+
+Clementina blushed, but only like a white rose. She did not turn her
+head aside; she did not lower their lids to veil the light she felt
+mount into her eyes; she looked him gently in the face as before, and
+her aspect of entreaty did not change. "Ah! do not be unkind, master,"
+she said.
+
+"Unkind!" he repeated. "You know I am not. I have more kindness in my
+heart than any lips can tell. You do not know, you could not yet
+imagine, the half of what I hope of and for and from you."
+
+"I _am_ going to see Malcolm," she said with a little sigh. "That is, I
+am going to visit Lady Lossie at her place in Scotland--your own old
+home, where so many must love you. _Can't_ you come? I shall be
+traveling alone, quite alone, except my servants."
+
+A shadow came over the schoolmaster's face: "You do not _think_, my
+lady, or you would not press me. It pains me that you do not see at once
+it would be dishonest to go without timely notice to my pupils, and to
+the public too. But, beyond that quite, I never do anything of myself. I
+go not where I wish, but where I seem to be called or sent. I never even
+wish much, except when I pray to Him in whom are hid all the treasures
+of wisdom and knowledge. After what He wants to give me I am wishing all
+day long. I used to build many castles, not without a beauty of their
+own--that was when I had less understanding--now I leave them to God to
+build for me: He does it better, and they last longer. See now, this
+very hour, when I needed help, could I have contrived a more lovely
+annihilation of the monotony that threatened to invade my weary spirit
+than this inroad of light in the person of my Lady Clementina? Nor will
+He allow me to get overwearied with vain efforts. I do not think He will
+keep me here long, for I find I cannot do much for these children. They
+are but some of His many pagans--not yet quite ready to receive
+Christianity, I think--not like children with some of the old seeds of
+the truth buried in them, that want to be turned up nearer to the light.
+This ministration I take to be more for my good than theirs--a little
+trial of faith and patience for me--a stony corner of the lovely valley
+of humiliation to cross. True, I _might_ be happier where I could hear
+the larks, but I do not know that anywhere have I been more peaceful
+than in this little room, on which I see you so often cast round your
+eyes curiously, perhaps pitifully, my lady."
+
+"It is not at all a fit place for _you_," said Clementina with a touch
+of indignation.
+
+"Softly, my lady, lest, without knowing it, your love should make you
+sin. Who set thee, I pray, for a guardian angel over my welfare? I could
+scarce have a lovelier, true; but where is thy brevet? No, my lady: it
+is a greater than thou that sets me the bounds of my habitation. Perhaps
+He may give me a palace one day. If I might choose, it would be things
+that belong to a cottage--the whiteness and the greenness and the sweet
+odors of cleanliness. But the Father has decreed for His children that
+they shall know the thing that is neither their ideal nor His. Who can
+imagine how in this respect things looked to our Lord when He came and
+found so little faith on the earth? But perhaps, my lady, you would not
+pity my present condition so much if you had seen the cottage in which I
+was born, and where my father and mother loved each other, and died
+happier than on their wedding-day. There I was happy too until their
+loving ambition decreed that I should be a scholar and a clergyman. Not
+before then did I ever know anything worthy the name of trouble. A
+little cold and a little hunger at times, and not a little restlessness
+always, was all. But then--ah, then my troubles began. Yet God, who
+bringeth light out of darkness, hath brought good even out of my
+weakness and presumption and half-unconscious falsehood. When do you
+go?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, as I purpose."
+
+"Then God be with thee! He _is_ with thee, only my prayer is that thou
+mayst know it. He is with me, and I know it. He does not find this
+chamber too mean or dingy or unclean to let me know Him near me in it."
+
+"Tell me one thing before I go," said Clementina: "are we not commanded
+to bear each other's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ? I read
+it to-day."
+
+"Then why ask me?"
+
+"For another question: does not that involve the command to those who
+have burdens that they should allow others to bear them?"
+
+"Surely, my lady. But _I_ have no burden to let you bear."
+
+"Why should I have everything and you nothing? Answer me that."
+
+"My lady, I have millions more than you, for I have been gathering the
+crumbs under my Master's table for thirty years."
+
+"You are a king," answered Clementina. "But a king needs a handmaiden
+somewhere in his house: that let _me_ be in yours. No, I will be proud,
+and assert my rights: I am your daughter. If I am not, why am I here? Do
+you not remember telling me that the adoption of God meant a closer
+relation than any other fatherhood, even His own first fatherhood, could
+signify? You cannot cast me off if you would. Why should you be poor
+when I am rich? You _are_ poor: you cannot deny it," she concluded with
+a serious playfulness.
+
+"I will not deny my privileges," said the schoolmaster, with a smile
+such as might have acknowledged the possession of some exquisite and
+envied rarity.
+
+"I believe," insisted Clementina, "you are just as poor as the apostle
+Paul when he sat down to make a tent, or as our Lord himself after he
+gave up carpentering."
+
+"You are wrong there, my lady. I am not so poor as they must often have
+been."
+
+"But I don't know how long I may be away, and you may fall ill,
+or--or--see some--some book you want very much, or--"
+
+"I never do," said the schoolmaster.
+
+"What! never see a book you want to have?"
+
+"No, not now. I have my Greek Testament, my Plato and my Shakespeare,
+and one or two little books besides whose wisdom I have not yet quite
+exhausted."
+
+"I can't bear it!" cried Clementina, almost on the point of weeping.
+"You will not let me near you. You put out an arm as long as the
+summer's, and push me away from you. _Let_ me be your servant." As she
+spoke she rose, and walking softly up to him where he sat, kneeled at
+his knees and held out suppliantly a little bag of white silk tied with
+crimson. "Take it--father," she said, hesitating, and bringing the word
+out with an effort: "take your daughter's offering--a poor thing to show
+her love, but something to ease her heart."
+
+He took it, and weighed it up and down in his hand with an amused smile,
+but his eyes full of tears. It was heavy. He opened it. A chair was
+within his reach: he emptied it on the seat of it, and laughed with
+merry delight as its contents came tumbling out. "I never saw so much
+gold in my life if it were all taken together," he said. "What beautiful
+stuff it is! But I don't want it, my dear. It would but trouble me." And
+as he spoke he began to put it in the bag again. "You will want it for
+your journey," he said.
+
+"I have plenty in my reticule," she answered. "That is a mere nothing to
+what I could have to-morrow morning for writing a cheque. I am afraid I
+am very rich. It is such a shame! But I can't well help it. You must
+teach me how to become poor. Tell me true: how much money have you?" She
+said this with such an earnest look of simple love that the schoolmaster
+made haste to rise that he might conceal his growing emotion.
+
+"Rise, my dear lady," he said as he rose himself, "and I will show you."
+He gave her his hand, and she obeyed, but troubled and disappointed, and
+so stood looking after him while he went to a drawer. Thence, searching
+in a corner of it, he brought a half-sovereign, a few shillings and some
+coppers, and held them out to her on his hand with the smile of one who
+has proved his point. "There!" he said, "do you think Paul would have
+stopped preaching to make a tent so long as he had as much as that in
+his pocket? I shall have more on Saturday, and I always carry a month's
+rent in my good old watch, for which I never had much use, and now have
+less than ever."
+
+Clementina had been struggling with herself: now she burst into tears.
+
+"Why, what a misspending of precious sorrow!" exclaimed the
+schoolmaster. "Do you think because a man has not a gold-mine he must
+die of hunger? I once heard of a sparrow that never had a worm left for
+the morrow, and died a happy death notwithstanding." As he spoke he took
+her handkerchief from her hand and dried her tears with it. But he had
+enough ado to keep his own back. "Because I won't take a bagful of gold
+from you when I don't want it," he went on, "do you think I should let
+myself starve without coming to you? I promise you I will let you
+know--come to you if I can--the moment I get too hungry to do my work
+well and have no money left. Should I think it a disgrace to take money
+from _you_? That would show a poverty of spirit such as I hope never to
+fall into. My _sole_ reason for refusing now is that I do not need it."
+
+But for all his loving words and assurances Clementina could not stay
+her tears. She was not ready to weep, but now her eyes were as a
+fountain.
+
+"See, then, for your tears are hard to bear, my daughter," he said, "I
+will take one of these golden ministers, and if it has flown from me ere
+you come, seeing that, like the raven, it will not return if once I let
+it go, I will ask you for another. It _may_ be God's will that you
+should feed me for a time."
+
+"Like one of Elijah's ravens," said Clementina, with an attempted laugh
+that was really a sob.
+
+"Like a dove whose wings are covered with silver and her feathers with
+yellow gold," said the schoolmaster.
+
+A moment of silence followed, broken only by Clementina's failures in
+quieting herself.
+
+"To me," he resumed, "the sweetest fountain of money is the hand of
+love, but a man has no right to take it from that fountain except he is
+in want of it. I am not. True, I go somewhat bare, my lady; but what is
+that when my Lord would have it so?"
+
+He opened again the bag, and slowly, reverentially indeed, drew from it
+one of the new sovereigns with which it was filled. He put it in a
+waistcoat pocket and laid the bag on the table.
+
+"But your clothes are shabby, sir," said Clementina, looking at him with
+a sad little shake of the head.
+
+"Are they?" he returned, and looked down at his lower garments,
+reddening and anxious. "I did not think they were more than a little
+rubbed, but they shine somewhat," he said. "They are indeed polished by
+use," he went on with a troubled little laugh: "but they have no holes
+yet--at least none that are visible," he corrected. "If you tell me, my
+lady, if you honestly tell me, that my garments"--and he looked at the
+sleeve of his coat, drawing back his head from it to see it better--"are
+unsightly, I will take of your money and buy me a new suit." Over his
+coat-sleeve he regarded her, questioning.
+
+"Everything about you is beautiful," she burst out. "You want nothing
+but a body that lets the light through." She took the hand still raised
+in his survey of his sleeve, pressed it to her lips, and walked, with
+even more than her wonted state, slowly from the room.
+
+He took the bag of gold from the table and followed her down the stair.
+Her chariot was waiting her at the door. He handed her in, and laid the
+bag on the little seat in front.
+
+"Will you tell him to drive home?" she said with a firm voice, and a
+smile which if any one care to understand let him read Spenser's
+fortieth sonnet. And so they parted. The coachman took the queer,
+shabby, un-London-like man for a fortune-teller his lady was in the
+habit of consulting, and paid homage to his power with the handle of his
+whip as he drove away. The schoolmaster returned to his room--not to his
+Plato, not even to Saul of Tarsus, but to the Lord himself.
+
+[TO BE CONTINUED]
+
+
+
+
+SOME LAST WORDS FROM SAINTE-BEUVE.
+
+
+It is seven years since the world of letters lost the prince of critics,
+the last of the critics. His unfinished and unpublished manuscripts were
+eagerly demanded and devoured; while obituaries, notices, reminiscences
+and those analyses which the French term _appr�ciations_ rained in from
+various quarters. The latest of these that deserves attention was an
+outline of Saint-Beuve's life and literary career by the Vicomte
+d'Haussonville, in which, with an affectation of impartiality and
+fairness, every page was streaked with malice; imperfect justice was
+done to Sainte-Beuve's intellect; his influence and reputation were
+understated; and a picture was given of him as a man which could not but
+be disagreeable and disappointing to the vast number who admired him as
+a writer. In regard to the first two points, ill-nature and inaccuracy
+can do no harm: Sainte-Beuve's fame and ability are perfectly well known
+to the reading public of to-day, and the opinion of posterity will rest
+upon his own merits rather than on the statements of any biographer, as
+he is one of the authors whose writings are sure to be more read than
+what other people write about them. The unpleasant personal impression
+is not so easily dismissed: however exaggerated we may be disposed to
+think it, the reflection occurs, "How this man was feared!" The
+appearance of the notice several years after Sainte-Beuve's death
+strengthens this conviction: M. d'Haussonville waited until his subject
+should be quite cold before he ventured to touch him.
+
+The causes of this dread and dislike are not to be found in
+Sainte-Beuve's voluminous works, nor have I met with any evidence of it
+in the writings of his literary contemporaries. He obviously held that
+it is a critic's duty to be just before he is generous, and there may be
+a lack of geniality in his praise, though it is not given grudgingly;
+but I cannot recall an instance of literary spite in the large
+proportion of his writings with which I am familiar. His judgments are
+often severe, never harsh: he frequently dealt in satire, rarely, as far
+as my memory serves, in sarcasm, and he condemns irony as one of the
+least intelligent dispositions of the mind. The only case in which I
+remember having suspected Sainte-Beuve of ill-nature was in a notice of
+J. J. Amp�re printed in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ shortly after the
+latter's death; but a person who had known Amp�re long and well, and on
+the friendliest terms, declared that it gave an entirely fair
+description of the man, who, full of talent and amiability as he was,
+had many weaknesses. Two pleas only can justify disinterring and
+gibbeting an author's private life--either his having done the same by
+others, or his having made the public the confidant of his individual
+experience. Few writers have intruded their own personality upon their
+readers less than Sainte-Beuve has done: the poems and novels of his
+youth, which won fervent admiration from the literary leaders of that
+day, De Vigny, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, are now forgotten: he is known
+to readers of the last half century by a series of critical and
+biographical essays extending from 1823 or 1824 to 1870, which combine
+every attribute of perfect criticism except enthusiasm. The most
+prominent feature of his method is the conscientiousness with which he
+credits the person upon whom he passes judgment with every particle of
+worth which can be extracted from his writings, acts or sayings: he
+adopts as the basis of criticism the acknowledgment of whatever merit
+may exist in the subject of consideration; and his talent and patience
+for sifting the grain from the chaff are remarkable and admirable. An
+author who has left some forty volumes conceived in this spirit should
+have been safe against an effusion of spleen in his biographer. I am not
+assailing the fidelity of M. d'Haussonville's portrait--of which I have
+no means of judging--but the temper in which it is executed, which can
+be judged without difficulty. Besides the injustice already mentioned,
+it is disfigured by tittle-tattle, which tends to render the original
+ridiculous and repulsive, but does not add one whit to our knowledge of
+Sainte-Beuve as a man or an author.
+
+A defence of Sainte-Beuve is not within the purpose of the present
+article; but it was impossible for one who has known him favorably for
+twenty years through his works and the testimony of his most
+distinguished literary compeers to speak of him at all without
+protesting against the detraction to which his memory has been
+subjected. Two small posthumous volumes have lately been issued in
+France,[C] revealing qualities which might expose the dead man to a mean
+revenge, though to most readers they will have a delightful freshness
+unspoiled by any bitter flavor. They consist of a series of notes on all
+sorts of subjects, literary, dramatic, religious and political, one of
+them being actually made up of the jottings in his later notebooks,
+while the other contains the memoranda of a sort of high-class gossip
+with which Sainte-Beuve supplied a friend, the editor of _La Revue
+Suisse_, during the years 1843-45. These were not to be published as
+they stood, but to be used by the editor, M. Juste Olivier, as he should
+think best: they are fragmentary, mere bits of raw material--if any
+product of that accomplished brain can be so termed--to be worked up by
+another hand. They were qualified by marginal observations, such as
+"This is for you alone," "This is rather strong," and they were to be
+absolutely anonymous, the author allowing himself the luxury of free
+speech, of writing exactly as he thought and felt; in short, of trusting
+his indiscretion to M. Olivier's discretion. The latter used his
+judgment independently; Sainte-Beuve's views and comments often became
+merely one ingredient in an article for which others supplied the rest;
+and the editor kneaded the whole into shape to his own liking. But the
+MSS. remained intact, and were confided by M. Olivier to M. Jules
+Troubat, Sainte-Beuve's private secretary and editor, who has published
+them in their integrity, he tells us, with the exception of "a few
+indispensable suppressions." The other volume, as we have said, is
+composed of his notebooks. These last were intended to take the place of
+memoirs by Sainte-Beuve himself, who wrote a short preface, under the
+name of M. Troubat, destined for a larger volume to appear after his
+death. He published, however, the greater part of those which he had
+already collected in vol. ii. of the _Causeries de Lundi_: the present
+series contains the notes which accumulated subsequently. M. Troubat has
+given them to the world as they stood. Both books abound in the
+characteristics of the author's style--good sense, moderation,
+perception, discrimination, delicacy, sparkle, unerring taste, as well
+as judgment in matters of intelligence. A parcel of disconnected
+passages cannot possess the flow and finish of a complete essay, but
+each bit has the clearness, incisiveness and smooth polish of his native
+wit. They give us Sainte-Beuve's first impression, thought, mental
+impulse, about daily events regarding which he sometimes afterward
+modified his opinion. Not often, however, for he had, if not precisely
+the prophetic vision which belongs to genius or minds illuminated by
+enthusiasm or sympathy, that keen far-sightedness which recognizes at a
+distance rather than foresees the coming event or man. He tells a
+quantity of anecdotes, and he had exactly the sort of humor and absence
+of tenderness for human weakness which perceives the point that makes a
+story good in the greatest variety of speeches and situations. The key
+to the dislike and fear with which some people must have regarded him
+while living lies probably in just this appreciation. It is vain to
+assert that humor is necessarily kindly, or the adjectives "grim" and
+"savage" would not so often be tacked to it. Nobody could have hoped
+that friendship would blind Sainte-Beuve to an absurdity: on the other
+hand, even his enemies might count on his recognition if they had said a
+good thing, and his not spoiling it in the repetition, as too many
+friends do. This produced an impartiality in his verdicts which is the
+moral essence of criticism, but perhaps the most trying quality to the
+subject of it: he says himself that he had irritated and envenomed more
+people by his praise than by his blame. He had not a high opinion of
+human nature, which is curiously illustrated by his female portraits:
+when there has been only a doubt of a woman's virtue, he never gives her
+the benefit of the doubt; when there has not been even the suspicion of
+a slip, he presumes that she kept her secrets better than most people
+do. He was sensitive to the accusation of cynicism, and resented
+extremely an article in _L'Union_ of June, 1855, in which he was set
+down as having not only a skeptical mind, but a skeptical heart; which
+was no doubt very nearly true. Yet he was on his guard against his
+natural cynicism in his literary judgments at least, as one need but
+glance over them to see. In the _Cahiers_ he cites an expression of his
+fair friend Madame d'Arbonville: "How many good things there are besides
+the things which we like! We ought to make room within ourselves for a
+certain _opposite_;" and he adds that this should be the motto of a
+liberal and intelligent critic. These convictions helped to make his
+criticism as admirable, as invaluable, as it is; but the sharpness from
+which his literary work is free makes his private observations on men
+and things more entertaining. There are few people so well-natured as
+not to enjoy the peculiar pungency which gives many of the passages in
+the two volumes before us their relish: now and then it is as if we had
+got hold of the cruets which were to season a whole article. There is a
+batch of anecdotes about Lamartine, whose conspicuous gifts and position
+put his puerile vanity in relief; and that vanity Sainte-Beuve never
+spared. Lamartine set the fashion of his own idolatry by constituting
+himself the high priest; adulation was not enough--he demanded
+adoration; and he received it. He had a habit of contemplating himself
+from an objective but highly-idealizing point of view, best expressed by
+saying that he had a hero-worship for himself: his memoirs and other
+autobiographical writings are full of it, and in his intercourse it
+perpetually overflowed. "That is the brow they have tried to bend to the
+dust!" he exclaimed, standing before his own likeness in Ary Scheffer's
+studio. Lord Houghton, among his many good stories, had one of spending
+an evening at Lamartine's in Paris with a circle of celebrities. Alfred
+de Vigny, who had been out of town, presented himself. "Welcome back!"
+said Lamartine magnificently. "You come from the provinces: do they
+admire us down there?"--"They adore you," replied De Vigny with a bow.
+The conversation was a prolonged paean to the host, with choral strophe
+and antistrophe. One of the party began to rehearse the aspects in which
+Lamartine was the greatest man in France--"As a poet, as an orator, as
+an historian, as a statesman;" and as he paused, "And as a _soldier_,"
+added Lamartine with a sublime gesture, "if ever France shall need him."
+This may have been the country neighbor who, we learn from Sainte-Beuve,
+pronounced Lamartine to be F�nelon without his didacticism, Rousseau
+without his sophistry, Mirabeau without his incendiary notions. Still,
+there were asides in the dialogue. One evening, the week before the
+overthrow of the provisional government of which Lamartine was
+president, he had a crowded reception, and, notwithstanding the failure
+and imminent downfall of his administration, he was radiant with
+satisfaction. "What can M. de Lamartine have to be so pleased about?"
+said one of his friends to another. "He is pleased with himself," was
+the reply.--"One of those speeches," observes Sainte-Beuve, "which only
+friends find to make." But Lamartine was by no means solitary in this
+infatuation. Sainte-Beuve remarks that "Nothing is so common in our
+days: some think themselves God, some the Son of God, some archangels.
+Pierre Leroux thinks himself the first, De Vigny the last: Lamartine is
+a good prince--he is satisfied to be a seraph."
+
+These books give us daily glimpses of Paris thirty years ago, of that
+incessant mental movement, inquiry, desire for novelty and vivacity of
+transient interest which dazzle the brain as the scintillation of the
+sun upon the unstable waves does the eye. In all great cities, quite as
+much as in villages, there is a topic which for the moment occupies
+everybody, and which cannot be escaped, whether you enter a
+drawing-room, pick up a newspaper or rush into the street: the chief
+difference is, that in the great cities it changes oftener--"every
+fortnight here," says Sainte-Beuve of Paris. The history of many a nine
+days' wonder may be gathered from the _Chroniques_: we can mark the
+first effect of occurrences startling at the time, some of which are now
+wholly forgotten, while others have become historical; we witness the
+appearance of new divinities who have since found their pedestals,
+niches or obscure corners. Among these was Ponsard, chiefly known in
+this country, to those who remember Mademoiselle Rachel's brief,
+gleaming transit, as the author of _Horace et Lydie_, a light, bright,
+graceful piece based upon Horace's "Donec gratus eram tibi."
+
+M. Ponsard, who was from the south of France, arrived in Paris in 1843
+with a tragedy called _Lucr�ce_, which had been in his pocket for three
+years. It was read first at the house of the actor Bocage before a
+party of artists, actors and men of letters such as Paris alone can
+bring together. The litt�rateurs gave their opinion with caution and an
+oracular ambiguity which did not commit them too much: Gautier, on being
+asked how he liked it, replied, "It did not put me to sleep;" but the
+sculptor Pr�ault, not having a literary reputation at stake, declared
+that if there were a "Roman prize" for tragedy (as there is for music
+and the fine arts, entitling the fortunate competitor to four years'
+travel and study in classic lands at the expense of the government) the
+author would set out on the morrow for the Eternal City. The play was
+read again a week or two afterward in the drawing-room of the Comtesse
+d'Agoult, the beautiful, gifted, reckless friend of Lizst's youth, and
+mother of the wife of Von Bulow and Wagner. The success was complete.
+Sainte-Beuve was again present; and Lamartine was among the audience
+full of admiration: the poor young poet could not nerve himself to come.
+The play was read by Bocage, who took the principal part, that of
+Brutus, when it was brought out at the Od�on. The chaste Lucretia was
+played by Madame Dorval, whose strength lay in parts of a different
+kind, and who announced her new character to a friend with the comment,
+"I only play women of virtue now-a-days." Reports of the new tragedy,
+which had been heard only in secret session, soon got about Paris, and
+excited intense curiosity and impatience; one of the daily papers
+published a scene from _Lucr�ce_; the sale was immense; everybody
+praised it to the skies, even members of the Academy. The next day the
+hoax came out: a clever but third-rate writer, M. M�ry, had made April
+fools of the wits of Paris. The piece itself was soon performed, and
+made what is called in this country an immense sensation: the theatre,
+long out of favor, was crowded every night; the papers were full of it
+every morning; it was the topic about which everybody talked. Authors
+who had lately written less popular plays were somewhat envious and
+spiteful; Victor Hugo pronounced _Lucr�ce_ to be Livy versified; Dumas
+repeated (or invented) the speech of an enthusiastic notary, who
+exclaimed, "What a piece! Not one of my clerks could have written it."
+Madame de Girardin had just brought out her tragedy of _Judith_ at the
+Th��tre Fran�ais, with the powerful support of Rachel in the principal
+character: the drama, when read by Rachel and Madame de Girardin (whose
+beauty, wit and social position gave her during her whole life a
+fictitious rank in a certain set, of which none were better aware than
+the members of it) in Madame R�camier's drawing-room, had produced a
+better effect than it did upon the stage, where it was considered a
+respectable failure. Madame de Girardin could not control or conceal her
+chagrin, and meeting M. Ponsard one evening at the Duchesse de
+Grammont's, declined to have him presented to her. He took his honors so
+quietly--so tamely in the opinion of some people--that Madame Dorval
+exhorted him: "Wake up! wake up! you look like a hen that has hatched an
+eagle's egg." Since the Augustan age of French literature, since
+Corneille and Racine, a really fine tragedy on a classic subject had
+been unknown, and the romantic reaction was then at its height. The
+moral view of _Lucr�ce_ was a new and important element of success. "The
+religious feeling of the Roman matron, the inviolability of the domestic
+hearth, are these not new? do not they count for much?" observed the
+virtuous philosopher Ballanche, the devoted, unselfish friend of Madame
+R�camier. Sainte-Beuve was greatly impressed by the nobility of the
+characters and treatment, and after pointing out its beauties and
+shortcomings, set the seal to his encomium by affirming that the secret
+of the power of _Lucr�ce_ was that it had soul.
+
+The extraordinary favor with which this play was received marked an
+epoch in a small way, a return to antique ideas and themes, to more
+elevated subjects and modes of dealing with them. Six weeks after its
+appearance Sainte-Beuve writes: "We have always been rather apish in
+France: the Grecian, Roman and biblical tragedies which every day now
+brings forth are innumerable. Who will deliver me from these Greeks and
+Romans? Here we are overrun by them again after forty years'
+insurrection, and by the Hebrews to boot." The high-water mark of the
+author's popularity was the publication of a trifle called the
+_Anti-Lucr�ce_, which was sold in the purlieus of the Od�on: next day
+there was a rumor that a second _Anti-Lucr�ce_ was in preparation. But
+the tide had turned: six months later, when the theatre reopened after
+the summer vacation with the same tragedy, Sainte-Beuve records:
+"_Lucr�ce_ has reappeared only to die, not by the poignard, but of
+languor, coldness, premature old age. It is frightful how little and how
+fast we live in these times--works as well as men. We survive ourselves
+and our children: the generations are turned upside down. Here is a
+piece which scarcely six months ago all Paris ran to hear without being
+asked:... now they are tired of it already, and can find nothing in it:
+it is like last year's snow." The death-blow of the tragedy was given,
+Sainte-Beuve says, not by the dagger, but by a luckless blunder of the
+actor who played Lucretia's father, and who, instead of saying,
+_L'assassin p�lissant_ ("The assassin turning pale,") said, _L'assassin
+polisson_ ("The scamp of an assassin"); which set everybody laughing;
+and that was the end of it.
+
+M. Ponsard might console himself, if he liked, by the reflection that
+his play, if not immortal, had killed his fair rival's _Judith_ and
+swallowed up Victor Hugo's _Burgraves_, which had been acted at the
+Th��tre Fran�ais a month before _Lucr�ce_ was first produced. Regarding
+the former, Sainte-Beuve shows unwonted tenderness or policy. "Never let
+me be too epigrammatic about Madame de Girardin," he wrote to M.
+Olivier: "I would not seem to play the traitor to her smiles;" though in
+reference to a sharp encounter between her and Jules Janin he hints that
+she has claws of her own. He does not deny himself the pleasure of
+mentioning Victor Hugo's little weaknesses. At the first three
+representations of _Les Burgraves_ the theatre was packed with the
+author's friends: on the fourth a less partial public hissed to that
+degree that the curtain was dropped, and thenceforward each night was
+stormier until the play was withdrawn. Hugo could not bring himself to
+allow that he had been hissed, and, being behind the scenes, said to the
+actors, with the fatal sibilation whistling through the house, "They are
+interrupting my play" (_On trouble ma pi�ce_); which became a byword
+with these wicked wits. Sainte-Beuve, with his infallible instinct of
+wherein dwelt the vital greatness or defect of a production,
+characterizes the piece as an exaggeration. He admits that it has
+talent, especially in the preface, but adds, "Hugo sees all things
+larger than life: they look black to him--in _Ruy Blas_ they looked red.
+But there is grandeur in the _Burgraves_: he alone, or Chateaubriand,
+could have written the introduction.... The banks of the Rhine are not
+so lofty and thunder-riven as he makes out, nor is Thessaly so black,
+nor Notre Dame so enormous, but more elegant, as may be seen from the
+pavement. But this is the defect of his eye."
+
+Amidst these theatrical diversions the chronicler alludes to the
+fashionable preaching which occupied the gay world at hours when
+playhouses and drawing-rooms were not open. There was a religious
+revival going on in Paris almost equal to that which Moody and Sankey
+have produced here. "During Passion Week" (1843) "the crowd in all the
+churches, but at Notre Dame particularly, was prodigious. M. de Ravignan
+preached three times a day--at one o'clock for the women of the gay
+world, in the evening for the men, at other hours for the workingmen. He
+adapted his sermons to the different classes: to the women of the world
+he spoke as a man who knows the world and has belonged to it. They
+rushed, they crowded, they wept. I do not know how many communicants
+there were at Easter, but I believe the figure has not been so high for
+fifty years." At Advent of the same year the same scenes were repeated,
+with the Abb� Lacordaire in the pulpit. This excitement, and the debates
+in the Chamber on the subject of the theological lectures at the
+Sorbonne and College of France, call forth some excellent pages
+regarding the condition of Catholicism in France and the Gallican
+Church, and a brief, rapid review of the causes of the decline of the
+latter, which Sainte-Beuve asserts (more than thirty years ago) to be
+defunct. "Gallicanism, the noblest child of Catholicism, is dead before
+his father, _who in his dotage remains obstinately faithful to his
+principles_.... Gallicanism in its dissolution left a vast patrimony:
+the Jesuits may grab a huge bit of it, but the bulk will be diminished
+and disseminated.... At the rate things are going, Catholicism is
+tending to become _a sect_." The insight of this is as remarkable as the
+expression. Some years afterward, marking the progress of liberal ideas
+in religion, he says: "Men's conceptions of God are constantly changing.
+What was the atheism of yesterday will be the deism of to-morrow."
+
+There are few Frenchman of any calling who are indifferent to politics,
+and the men of letters almost without exception are interested
+spectators when not actors in public affairs. From 1843 to 1845, the
+period of the _Chroniques_, was a dead calm in the political horizon of
+France, undisturbed by the little distant cloud of warfare in Algiers:
+the Legitimists worked up farcical fermentations which had no more body
+or head than those of the present day, although the chances of the party
+were rather better. The duke of Bordeaux (as the Comte de Chambord was
+then called) made an excursion to England one Christmas, which was
+seized as an occasion, or more probably was a preconcerted signal, for a
+dreary little demonstration of loyalty on the part of his adherents, who
+crossed over to pay their respects to him in London: by great
+arithmetical efforts their number was added up and made to amount to
+four hundred, though whether so many really went was doubted. There were
+a few old noblemen of great family: Berryer the eminent lawyer and
+Chateaubriand were the only names of individual distinction in the list,
+and the chief results were that Queen Victoria was annoyed (some of the
+Orleans family being on a visit to her at the time) and intimated her
+annoyance, and that the superb Chateaubriand was spoken of in the
+English newspapers as "the good old man;" which Sainte-Beuve enjoyed
+extremely.
+
+The _Cahiers_ extend from 1847 to 1869, including the vicissitudes which
+brought about the Second Empire, whose annihilation Sainte-Beuve died
+half a year too soon to witness. In January, 1848, he felt the storm
+brewing in the air, though he little guessed from what quarter it would
+come nor on whose head it would burst. On the revolution of the 24th of
+February he writes: "What events! what a dream! I was prepared for much,
+but not so soon, nor for this.... I am tempted to believe in the nullity
+of every judgment, my own in particular--I who make it a business to
+judge others, and am so short-sighted.... The future will disclose what
+no one can foresee. There is no use in talking of ordinary wisdom
+and prudence: they have been utterly at fault. Guizot, the
+historian-philosopher, has turned out more stupid than a Polignac:
+Utopia and the poet's dream, on the contrary, have become facts and
+reality. I forgive Lamartine everything: he has been great during these
+days, and done honor to the poetic nature." But afterward, in looking
+back to the poet's reign, he grew satirical: "It was in the time of the
+good provisional government, which did so many things and left so many
+undone. The fortunes of France crumbled to pieces in a fortnight, but it
+was under the invocation of equality and fraternity. As to liberty, it
+only existed for madmen, and the wise took good care to make no use of
+it. 'The great folk are terribly scared,' said my portress, but the
+small fry triumphed: it was their turn. So much had never been said
+about work before, and so little was never done. People walked about all
+day, planted liberty-trees at every street-corner, illuminated
+willy-nilly, and perorated in the clubs and squares until midnight. The
+Exchange rang with disasters in the morning: in the evening it sparkled
+with lanterns and fireworks. It was the gayest anarchy for the lower
+classes of Paris, who had no police and looked after themselves. The
+street-boys ran about with flags; workmen without work, but paid
+nevertheless, walked in perpetual procession; the demireps had kicked
+over the traces, and on the sidewalks the most virtuous
+fellow-citizenesses were hugged without ceremony: it must be added that
+they did not resent it too much. The grisettes, having nothing to eat,
+gave themselves away for nothing or next to nothing, as during the
+Fronde. The chorus of the Girondists was sung on every open lot, and
+there was a feast of addresses. Lamartine wrought marvels such as
+Ulysses might have done, and he was the siren of the hour. Yet they
+laughed and joked, and the true French wit revived. There was general
+good-humor and amiability in those first days of a most licentious
+spring sunshine. There was an admixture of bad taste, as there always is
+in the people of Paris when they grow sentimental. They made grotesque
+little gardens round the liberty-trees, which they watered
+assiduously.... The small fry adored their provisional government, as
+they formerly did their good king Louis XII., and more than one simple
+person said with emotion, 'It must be admitted that we are well
+governed, _they talk so well!_'" Before three months had elapsed the
+provisional government was at an end: "their feet slipped in
+blood--literally, in torrents of blood." "The politicians of late years
+have been playing a game of chess, intent wholly upon the board, but
+never giving a thought to the table under the board. But the table was
+alive, the back of a people which began to move, and in the twinkling of
+an eye chessboard and men went to the devil."
+
+Among the entries of the next ten or twelve years are sketches of the
+leading statesmen and scraps of their conversation: those of Thiers are
+very animated. Sainte-Beuve says that he has a happiness of verbal
+expression which eludes his pen; "yet raise him upon a pinnacle of works
+of art" (of which M. Thiers has always been a patron publicly and
+privately), "of historical monuments and flatterers, and he will never
+be aught but the cleverest of marmosets." If he had lived another
+twelvemonth, Sainte-Beuve might have had some other word for the Great
+Citizen. On Guizot he is still more severe, making him out a mere
+humbug, and of the poorest sort. When the poet Auguste Barbier became a
+candidate for the French Academy, M. Guizot had never heard of him, and
+had to be told all about him and his verses--there was surely no
+disgrace in this ignorance on the part of a man engrossed in studies and
+pursuits of a more serious nature--but before a week was over he was
+heard expressing amazement that another person knew nothing of Barbier,
+and talking of his poems as if he had always been familiar with them.
+The Duchesse de Broglie said: "What M. Guizot has known since morning he
+pretends to have known from all eternity."
+
+This paper might be prolonged almost to the length of the volumes
+themselves by quoting all the keen, sagacious or brilliant sayings
+which they contain. Two more, merely to exemplify Sainte-Beuve's command
+of words in very different lines of thought: "The old fragments of cases
+in [Greek: phi] and [Greek: then], the ancient remains of verbs in
+[Greek: mi] the second aorists, which alone survive the other submerged
+tenses, always produce the same effect upon me, in view of the regular
+declensions and conjugations, as the multitude of the isles and Cyclades
+in relation to the Peloponnesus and the rest of the mainland on the map
+of Greece: there was a time when they were all one. The rocks and peaks
+still stand to attest it."--"_Never_ is a word which has always brought
+bad luck to him who used it from the tribune."
+
+M. Troubat speaks of the correspondence of Sainte-Beuve as destined for
+publication: the _Chroniques_ and _Cahiers_ are like anchovies to whet
+the appetite for a longer and more continuous reading.
+
+                                      SARAH B. WISTER.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[C] _Chroniques Parisiennes_ and _Les Cahiers de Sainte-Beuve_.
+
+
+
+
+A FEW LETTERS.
+
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, April 12, 1872.
+
+Dear Cousin Bessie: It does not seem possible that but two months from
+to-day I saw you standing on your porch in good old Applethorpe bidding
+me an April "farewell." I can see you now, as I saw you then,
+smiling--or rather laughing--and saying, "Write! write often; and if you
+can't find any _real_ news, make something up." I little thought then I
+should so soon find material for correspondence. He was very sick at
+first, but really seems better now. But I forgot you don't know anything
+about him. Well! neither do _I_ much, but "what I have I give unto
+thee." So, I'll begin at the beginning of my romance.
+
+Day before yesterday, as I was engaged in the very romantic work of
+ploughing, I heard a clattering of hoofs and the snort and pant of a
+horse at full tear. In an instant the runaway was brought up, bang!
+against my fence. It was the work of but a moment to leap over and seize
+the animal. I then perceived his rider clinging, senseless, to the
+saddle by one stirrup. It is a great mercy to him that he was not
+killed, but he had been dragged but a short distance, and was therefore
+not severely injured. I secured the horse to the fence as quickly as
+possible, and then disengaged the gentleman. Upon removing him to the
+house, sending for a physician and applying various remedies, his
+consciousness was restored, and we soon discovered his injuries as well
+as a little of his history. His wounds prove to be bruises about the
+head and face (more disfiguring than serious), and a broken leg which
+it will take several weeks to cure.
+
+So here he is on my hands till he is well. I'm not sorry, either, for
+"it is not good for man to be alone," and I find him my nearest
+neighbor--like me an orphan, like me with a small fortune, consisting
+principally of his farm, and about my age. I've no doubt we shall get
+along capitally. I shall write every few days of his progress, knowing
+that you will be interested in whatever interests me. Don't forget to
+send me all the gossip of Applethorpe, for I am going to make my
+neighbor acquainted with all the inhabitants of Applethorpe by
+proxy--_i. e._, through your letters; so write your most entertaining
+ones, as I expect to read them all aloud to amuse and interest a
+captious invalid. "No more at present" from your affectionate cousin,
+
+                                    PHILIP AUBREY.
+
+
+TO MISS BESSIE LINTON, Applethorpe.
+
+                              APPLETHORPE, April 20, 1872.
+
+MY DEAR BOY: Your letter duly rec'd. I am glad you have found
+companionship, though I am sorry for him that it should be an accident
+that literally "threw" him in your way. You did not tell me his name, or
+anything but the bare fact of his accident. Be sure that you will find
+in me an interested listener--or rather _reader_--of anything you may
+choose to tell me. But don't leave accounts of _yourself_ out of your
+letters in order to make room for _him_. Remember, you are my only
+relation, the only person in the world in whom I have a right to be
+interested. It does not seem possible to me, when I think of it, that
+there is only five years' difference in our ages: why, I'm sure I feel
+ten years older, instead of five. I was very young at fifteen to take
+charge of a great boy of ten; and if it were not that you were the good
+boy you always were, I never could have fulfilled the charge your dying
+mother left me. Do not think, dear, I was not _glad_ to do it for her.
+Could I ever, _ever_, if I worked five times as hard as I have since she
+left you, repay all that she did for me, the poor miserable, shy orphan
+left to her care?
+
+But out upon these memories! Let us deal with the present and future.
+
+_Item._ Mary Montrose's engagement to Joel Roberts is "out" to-day. I'm
+glad, for I'm tired of keeping the secret. Poor dear Mary! I do _hope_
+she will be happy. She inquires very cordially after you every time she
+sees me. She doesn't know she blasted one of my most precious hopes when
+she told me she was engaged to Joel.
+
+Good-bye, dear! Be sure and write long letters to your affectionate
+cousin,
+
+                                    BESSIE L----.
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, April 30, 1872.
+
+DEAR BESS: Please excuse my not answering your last two letters, on the
+plea of business. Indeed, working and waiting on my friend, George
+Hammond, have occupied all my time.
+
+Now, Bessie, I want you to do something for me. Yesterday, when I got
+your letter, I read it aloud as usual, George looking very sad the
+while. When I was done he said in a trembling tone, "I wish to heaven
+there was some one in the world nearly enough related to me to care to
+write to me! But I am alone, entirely alone;" and his eyes filled.
+(Forgive his weakness, Bess: he has been very sick.) I tried to cheer
+him, but all to no purpose till an idea struck him. His face
+brightening, he said, "Do you believe, Philip--I know it is a great deal
+to ask--but do you believe you could persuade your cousin to write to
+_me_? I should prize it _so_ much. Do you think she _would_? Just fancy
+what it is never to receive a letter from any one except a
+business-man!"
+
+Now, Bessie, _won't_ you write him once in a while? There is not a
+particle of harm in it, and I assure you it will be a real boon to the
+poor fellow. Just imagine him lying here on his back day after day, and
+not a thing to amuse him but my company!
+
+Of course you'll say that you can have nothing to write about to a
+stranger. But you'll soon find something, _I_ know: I'll trust to your
+"woman's wit." Ask him about his past life: begin _that_ way. But there!
+I'll not give you any advice on the subject: you understand writing
+letters better than I do. So good-bye, "fair coz." Pray accede to my
+request.
+
+                                    Yours, etc.,
+                                       PHILIP A----.
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, July 1, 1872.
+
+MY DEAREST BESSIE: I'm getting jealous! Twice within a week have you
+written to George Hammond, and but once to me. Your letters to him are
+long, I know, for I see him read them. The correspondence is become
+something desperate--no wonder. He has just told me that through your
+letters he has become very deeply attached to you, and that when I
+return home at the end of another week he will come and plead his cause
+personally. He asks my benediction. I am sure he has my most hearty good
+wishes, and I do hope, Bessie dear, you may be inclined to say "Yes."
+Then, after you are married, you can come out here and settle down near
+your only remaining relative for the rest of your natural existence. You
+smile and shake your head, and say, "Oh yes, that will last till Philip
+marries!" But I say that if I see you and George Hammond united, it is
+all I ask.
+
+But I shall say no more. He can plead better by word of mouth than I by
+paper, I hope. Ever your devoted
+
+                                                PHILIP.
+
+                                 TO MISS BESSIE LINTON.
+
+A week later, Bessie Linton, fair and young spite of her thirty years,
+waited at the Applethorpe station in her pony-carriage for her cousin
+and his friend. She was possessed by so many emotions that she hardly
+knew whether she most wished or most dreaded seeing the visitors. That
+she was herself deeply interested in George Hammond she did not pretend
+to deny even to herself; yet just at the last she dreaded seeing him. It
+seemed to bring everything so near.
+
+The whistle sounded round the bend, and in another moment the dreaded,
+hoped-for train arrived. There alighted from it a number of passengers,
+but none that Bessie recognized at all. Presently there came toward her
+a gentleman with full beard and moustache, holding out his hand and
+exclaiming, "Cousin Bessie, don't you know me?"
+
+"Why, Philip Aubrey! No, I _didn't_. Why, where--" and she hesitated a
+half second--"where is my Philip gone?"
+
+"He's here alive and hearty, and the same old scapegrace, I'm afraid."
+
+Then, seeing the look of inquiry and suspense on her face, he added with
+considerable embarrassment, "George didn't come just yet. I'll tell you
+all about it when we get home."
+
+She was forced to be satisfied, but a nameless feeling of "something"
+made the drive a rather silent one, although each tried spasmodically to
+start a conversation. Tea over, Philip drew Bessie out into the garden,
+and sitting down in a rustic scat, said, "Bessie, come and sit down: I
+want to talk to you." Simply, straightforwardly as of old, she came.
+
+"Bessie dear," said Philip, "I have something to say, and don't know how
+to say it. But I guess the only way is to tell the truth at once. There
+is no such person as George Hammond."
+
+Bessie's heart-blood stopped for what seemed half an hour, and then she
+articulated slowly, "Then who wrote those letters, Philip?"
+
+"_I_ did," he answered sadly.
+
+She started away from him as if he had been a serpent. She walked up and
+down like a caged animal. At last her scorn burst forth: "_You_, Philip
+Aubrey! _you_! You have dared to laugh me to scorn, have you? You have
+dared to presume that because I am what the world calls an 'old maid,' I
+am a fit mark for the arrows of the would-be wits? Philip Aubrey, all I
+have to wish is, that your actions may recoil upon yourself." She would
+have said more, but her feelings overcame her entirely, and sitting down
+she covered her face with her hand, the tears trickling through her
+fingers.
+
+"Oh, Bessie! Bessie! they have. Bitterly have I repented of my ruse. But
+I know if you will hear me you will not judge me harshly."
+
+She drew herself up, and throwing all possible scorn into her face,
+said, "Go! and if there remains in your body one vestige of feeling
+belonging to a gentleman, never let me look upon your face again."
+
+Like a stricken cur he went from her presence. He knew her too well: he
+knew that once roused as she now was, years could not efface her
+impression. He knew she would listen to no apology, no word of any kind;
+so the only thing left for him to do, as she had expressed it, was to
+"leave her presence."
+
+As soon as he was fairly gone Bessie rose, went into the house, locked
+herself in her own room and struggled with herself. She did not even
+pretend to herself that her trouble was not hard to bear. What did life
+hold for her now? She had not even the cousin on whom her affections had
+so long been centred as her one living relation.
+
+"Oh, if he had only died! if he had only died before he deceived me this
+way!" she moaned, "I think I should have borne it more easily. It cannot
+be called the thoughtless trick of a boy: he is too old, and has carried
+it on too long, and planned it all too systematically, for that."
+
+Three hours after she came from her vigil pale and silent, but a
+conqueror. A little card stuck in the drawing-room mirror told her that
+Philip had started for New York on his way to his Western home again.
+
+"I declare, Ophelie, Bessie Linton's awful queer about Philip Aubrey.
+Last night I says to her, says I, 'Bessie, I hear Philip Aubrey's
+home--is he?' First she turned mighty red, and then as white as a sheet,
+and she seemed kind a-chokin' like; but in a moment she says, 'So he
+was, Mrs. Dartle, but he found some pressing business that took him back
+a great deal sooner than he expected.' 'La!' says I, 'what a pity! You
+ain't seen him for so long, and you was so attached to him!' And she
+says, just as cold as an ice-pitcher, 'I shall miss him very much. Have
+you seen my new heliotrope, Mrs. Dartle?' So I couldn't say anything
+more, but I declare to man I'd give a penny to know what's the
+matter--such friends as they used to be, too! You may depend upon it the
+fault's on his side. Mebbe he's done something dreadful."
+
+So things got whispered around, not very much to the credit of Mr.
+Aubrey, but after Mrs. Dartle's rebuff no one dared question Miss
+Linton, knowing her so well.
+
+Day succeeded day, and no one knew the bitterness that filled Miss
+Linton's heart so full that it seemed as if it must burst. Then came a
+letter from Philip. "Shall I open it? No, I will send it back. That he
+should dare to write again!" One mail followed another, and still the
+letter was unsent, was unopened. At last, after a fortnight had passed,
+her good sense got the better of her ill-feeling, and she said to
+herself, "I will at least see what he can say for himself in excuse. I
+need not answer it." So she opened it, and read as follows:
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, October 8, 1872.
+
+MY MUCH-ABUSED COUSIN: I dare not even _hope_ that you will not return
+this unopened. But if you do open it I hope you may read what I have to
+say without _too_ bitter feelings. Where shall I commence to tell you my
+story?
+
+You know what you said in regard to "making up" news, and one day as I
+was out riding my horse _did_ land me at my own fence in the way I
+described. For weeks I lay on a bed of the most excruciating torture.
+Then I began to recover, and although I was confined to a sofa my
+faculties were on the alert, and I was pretty nearly distracted for
+something to do to amuse myself with. Finally, a brilliant idea struck
+me, and you were the victim of its execution. Believe me, believe me,
+Bessie dear, I only meant it for the harmless amusement of a week or
+two, but I became so interested in your letters to my imaginary friend
+that I could not bear to give them up. I had, Bessie, as I told you,
+learned to love you from your letters. They were so precious to me, it
+seemed like tearing from me a part of my very life to think of letting
+you know how I had deceived you, and so closing all the correspondence
+(which meant so much to me) between us. You will say I was cowardly. I
+_was_: I know it, and I admit it. But, Bessie, Bessie, I loved you so!
+Let my love plead for me. I thought it would be easier for me to tell
+you face to face. But God knows the hardest task I ever set myself was
+telling you how I had deceived you.
+
+Bessie, don't cast me off! Can't you find a little corner in your heart
+wherein I may rest? Let me be your cousin: of course I dare not hope
+ever to be anything dearer. But if you only will forgive me the trick
+into which I was led by sickness and want of amusement, and afterward
+continued from love of you, it is all I dare ask.
+
+                                    Ever your devoted
+                                      PHILIP.
+
+Emotions of various kinds seized the soul of Bessie Linton as she read
+Philip's letter once, twice, thrice. First, her heart was hardened to
+anything he might say--then as he told of his sufferings a little pity
+crept in; and finally, as she concluded the last word for the third
+time, her heart was so overflowing with pity--which is akin to
+love--that she--forgave him.
+
+At least, so I suppose, as they passed my window just now laughing, and
+as happy a married couple as ever you saw, if she _is_ "five years older
+than he is, and had the bringin' of him up," to use Mrs. Dartle's
+expression.
+
+                                        E. C. HEWITT.
+
+
+
+
+FROM THE FLATS.
+
+
+    What heartache--ne'er a hill!
+    Inexorable, vapid, vague and chill
+    The drear sand-levels drain my spirit low.
+    With one poor word they tell me all they know;
+    Whereat their stupid tongues, to tease my pain,
+    Do drawl it o'er again and o'er again.
+    They hurt my heart with griefs I cannot name:
+        Always the same, the same.
+
+    Nature hath no surprise,
+    No ambuscade of beauty 'gainst mine eyes
+    From brake or lurking dell or deep defile;
+    No humors, frolic forms--this mile, that mile;
+    No rich reserves or happy-valley hopes
+    Beyond the bends of roads, the distant slopes
+    Her fancy fails, her wild is all run tame:
+        Ever the same, the same.
+
+    Oh might I through these tears
+    But glimpse some hill my Georgia high uprears,
+    Where white the quartz and pink the pebbles shine,
+    The hickory heavenward strives, the muscadine
+    Swings o'er the slope, the oak's far-falling shade
+    Darkens the dogwood in the bottom-glade,
+    And down the hollow from a ferny nook
+        Bright leaps a living brook!
+
+                                 SIDNEY LANIER.
+
+
+
+
+A DAY'S MARCH THROUGH FINLAND.
+
+
+"Why don't you go to Imatra?" asks my friend P---- as we lean over the
+side of the Peterhof steamer and watch the golden domes of St.
+Petersburg rising slowly from the dull gray level of the Gulf of
+Finland. "Now that you've seen a bit of Central Russia, that's the next
+thing for you to do. Go to Imatra, and I'll go too."
+
+"And where on earth _is_ Imatra?" ask I innocently.
+
+"Oh come! you don't mean to say you've never heard of Imatra? Why,
+everybody knows it. Let's go there next week."
+
+Nevertheless, it so happens that I have _not_ heard of Imatra--an
+ignorance probably shared by most people out of Russia, and perhaps not
+a few in it. But I am destined to a speedier acquaintance than I had
+anticipated with the famous waterfall (or "foss," as the natives call
+it), which, lying forty miles due north of the Finnish port of Viborg,
+close to the renowned "Saima Lake," attracts the amateur fishermen of
+St. Petersburg by scores every summer.
+
+The proposed trip comes at an auspicious moment, for St. Petersburg in
+July is as thoroughly a "city of the dead" as London in September or
+Chamouni in January; and the average tourist, having eaten cabbage-soup
+at Wolff's or Dominique's, promenaded the Nevski Prospect and bought
+photographs in the Gostinni-Dvor (the Russian Regent street and
+Burlington Arcade), witnessed a service in the Isaac Church, and perhaps
+gone on to Moscow to stare at the Kremlin and the Monster Bell, must
+either await the approach of winter or fall back upon the truly British
+consolation of being able to "say that he has been there." Then is the
+time for suburban or rural jaunts; for picnics at Peterhof and drives to
+Oranienbaum; for wandering through the gardens of Catherine II. at
+Tsarskoe-Selo ("Czar's Village") and eating curds and cream at
+Pavlovski; for surveying the monastery of Strelna or the batteries of
+Cronstadt; or, finally, for taking the advice of my roving friend and
+going to Imatra.
+
+Accordingly, behold all our preparations made--knapsacks packed,
+tear-and-wear garments put in requisition, many-colored Russian notes
+exchanged (at a fearful discount) for dingy Finnish silver[D]--and at
+half-past ten on a not particularly bright July morning we stand on the
+deck of the anything but "good ship" Konstantin, bound for Viborg.
+
+Despite her tortoise qualities as a steamer, however (which prolong our
+voyage to nearly nine hours), the vessel is really luxurious in her
+accommodations; and were her progress even slower, the motley groups
+around us (groups such as only Dickens could describe or Leech portray)
+would sufficiently beguile the time--jaunty boy-officers in brand-new
+uniforms, gallantly puffing their _papirossi_ (paper cigarettes) in
+defiance of coming nausea, and discussing the merits of the new opera
+loud enough to assure every one within earshot that they know nothing
+whatever about it; squat Finnish peasants, whose round, puffy faces and
+thick yellow hair are irresistibly suggestive of overboiled
+apple-dumplings; gray-coated Russian soldiers, with the dogged endurance
+of their race written in every line of their patient, solid, unyielding
+faces; a lanky Swede, whose huge cork hat and broad collar give him the
+look of an exaggerated medicine-bottle; the inevitable tourist in the
+inevitable plaid suit, struggling with endless convolutions of
+fishing-tackle and hooking himself in a fresh place at every turn; three
+or four pale-faced clerks on leave, looking very much as if their
+"overwork" had been in some way connected with cigars and bad brandy; a
+German tradesman from Vasili-Ostroff (with the short turnip-colored
+moustache characteristic of Wilhelm in his normal state), in dutiful
+attendance on his wife, who is just completing her preparations for
+being comfortably ill as soon as the vessel starts; and a fine specimen
+of the real British merchant, talking vehemently (in a miraculous
+dialect of his own invention) to a Russian official, whose air of
+studied politeness shows plainly that he does not understand a word of
+his neighbor's discourse.
+
+Directly we go off the rain comes on, with that singular fatality
+characteristic of pleasure-trips in general, arising, doubtless, from
+the mysterious law which ordains that a man shall step into a puddle the
+instant he has had his boots blacked, and that a piece of
+bread-and-butter shall fall (how would Sir Isaac Newton have accounted
+for it?) with the buttered side downward. In a trice the deck is
+deserted by all save two or three self-devoted martyrs in macintosh, who
+"pace the plank" with that air of stern resolution worn by an Englishman
+when dancing a quadrille or discharging any other painful duty. The
+scenery throughout the entire voyage consists chiefly of fog, relieved
+by occasional patches of sand-bank; and small wonder if the superior
+attractions of the well-spread dinner-table detain most of our
+fellow-sufferers below. What is this first dish that they offer us? _Raw
+salmon_, by the shade of Soyer! sliced thin and loaded with pepper. Then
+follow soup, fried trout, roast beef, boiled ditto, slices of German
+sausage, neck of veal and bacon, fried potatoes and cabbage. Surely,
+now, "Hold, enough!" Not a bit of it: enter an enormous plum-pudding,
+which might do duty for a globe at any provincial school; next, a dish
+of rice and preserve, followed by some of the strongest conceivable
+cheese; finally, strawberries, and bilberries, with cream and sugar _ad
+libitum_. Involuntarily I recall the famous old American story of the
+"boss" at a railway refreshment-room who demanded fifty cents extra from
+a passenger who stuck to the table after all the rest had dined and gone
+away. "Your board says, 'Dinner, three dollars and fifty cents!'"
+remonstrated the victim.--"Ah! that's all very well for reasonable
+human bein's with one stomach apiece," retorted the Inexorable; "but
+when a feller eats _as if there were no hereafter_, we've got to pile it
+on!"
+
+As we pass Cronstadt the fog "lifts" slightly, giving us a momentary
+glimpse of the huge forts that guard the passage--the locked door which
+bars out Western Europe. There is nothing showy or pretentious about
+these squat, round-shouldered, narrow-eyed sentinels of the channel; but
+they have a grim air of reserved strength, as though they could be
+terribly effective in time of need. Two huge forts now command the
+"southern channel," in addition to the four which guarded it at the time
+of the Baltic expedition during the Crimean war; and the land-batteries
+(into which no outsider is now admitted without special permission) are
+being strengthened by movable shields of iron and other appliances of
+the kind, for which nearly one million roubles (one hundred and fifty
+thousand pounds) have been set apart. The seaward approaches are
+commanded by numerous guns of formidable calibre, and far away on the
+long, level promontory of the North Spit we can just descry a dark
+excrescence--the battery recently constructed for the defence of the
+"northern passage." Thus, from the Finnish coast to Oranienbaum a
+bristling line of unbroken fortification proclaims Russia's aversion to
+war, and the gaping mouths of innumerable cannon announce to all who
+approach, with silent eloquence, that "L'empire c'est la paix." It is a
+fine political parable that the Western traveler's first glimpse of
+Russian civilization should assume the form of a line of batteries,
+reminding one of poor Mungo Park's splendid unconscious sarcasm, when,
+while wandering helplessly in the desert, he came suddenly upon a gibbet
+with a man hanging in chains upon it; "Whereupon," says he, "I kneeled
+down and gave hearty thanks to Almighty God, who had been pleased to
+conduct me once more into a Christian and civilized country."
+
+As the afternoon creeps on the rain seems to fall heavier, the fog to
+brood thicker, the steamer to go (if possible) slower than before.
+However, everything earthly has an end except a suit in chancery; and by
+nightfall (if there _be_ any nightfall in this wonderful region, where
+it is lighter at midnight than in England at daybreak) we reach Viborg,
+a neat little town built along the edge of a narrow inlet, with the
+straight, wide, dusty streets which characterize every Russian town from
+Archangelsk to Sevastopol. Along the edge of the harbor runs a well
+laid-out promenade, a favorite resort after sunset, when the cool breeze
+from the gulf comes freshly in after the long, sultry hours of the
+afternoon. Behind it cluster, like a heap of colored pebbles, the
+painted wooden houses of the town; while over all stands, like a veteran
+sentinel, the gray massive tower of the old castle, frowning upon the
+bristling masts of the harbor like the Past scowling at the Present.
+
+The rippling sea in front and the dark belt of forest behind give the
+whole place a very picturesque appearance; but the beauty of the latter
+is sorely marred by the destroying sweep of a recent hurricane, traces
+of which are still visible in the long swathes of fallen trees that lie
+strewn amid the greenwood, like the dead among the living.
+
+In the solemn, subdued light of the northern evening we rattle in a
+crazy drosky over the uneven stones of the town into the vast desolate
+square in which stands the solitary hotel, a huge barrack-like building,
+up and down which we wander for some time, like the prince in the
+Sleeping Beauty's palace, without meeting any sign of life, till at
+length in a remote corner we come suddenly upon a chubby little waiter
+about the size of a well-grown baby, to whom we give our orders. This,
+however, is his first and last appearance, for every time we ring a
+different waiter, of the same diminutive size, answers the bell; which
+oppresses us with an undefined apprehension of having got into a
+charity-school by mistake.
+
+When I first made the acquaintance of Viborg, a journey thither from St.
+Petersburg, though the distance by land is only about eighty miles, was
+no light undertaking. The daring traveler who elected to travel by road
+had no choice but to provide himself with abundant wrappings and a good
+stock of food, draw his strong boots up to his knee, fortify his inner
+man with scalding tea or fiery corn-whisky, and struggle through
+axle-deep mud or breast-high snow (according to the season), sometimes
+for two days together. "Mais nous avons chang� tout cela." Two trains
+run daily from St. Petersburg, covering the whole distance in about four
+hours, and the stations along the line, though bearing marks of hasty
+construction, are still sufficiently comfortable and well supplied with
+provisions. Thanks to this direct communication with the capital, Viborg
+is now completely _au fait_ of the news of the day, and all fashionable
+topics are canvassed as eagerly on the promenade of this little Finnish
+seaport as along the pavements of the Nevski Prospect.
+
+"We must breakfast early to-morrow, mind," says P---- as we settle into
+our respective beds, "for a march in the sun here is no joke, you bet!"
+
+"Worse than in Arabia or South America?" ask I with calm scorn.
+
+"You'll find the north of Russia a pretty fair match for both at this
+season. Do you happen to know that one of the hottest places in the
+world is Archangelsk on the White Sea? In summer the pitch melts off the
+vessels like butter, and the mosquitoes are so thick that the men on
+board the grain-ships fairly burrow into the corn for shelter.[E]
+Good-night! Sharp six to-morrow, mind!"
+
+Accordingly, the early daylight finds us tramping along the edge of the
+picturesque little creek (dappled here and there with wood-crowned
+islets) in order to get well into our work before the sun is high in the
+sky, for a forty-mile march, knapsack on shoulder, across a difficult
+country, in the heat of a real Russian summer, is not a thing to be
+trifled with, even by men who have seen Turkey and Syria. A sudden turn
+of the road soon blots out the sea, and we plunge at once into the
+green silent depths of the northern forest.
+
+It is characteristic of the country that, barely out of sight of one of
+the principal ports of Finland, we are in the midst of a loneliness as
+utter as if it had never been broken by man. The only tokens of his
+presence are the narrow swathe of road running between the dim, unending
+files of the shadowy pine trees, and the tall wooden posts, striped
+black and white like a zebra, which mark the distance in versts from
+Viborg, the verst being two-thirds of a mile.
+
+To an unpractised eye the marvelous smoothness and hardness of this
+forest highway (unsurpassed by any macadamized road in England) might
+suggest a better opinion of the local civilization than it deserves; for
+in this case it is the soil, not the administration, that merits all the
+credit. In granite-paved Finland, as in limestone-paved Barbados, Nature
+has already laid down your road in a way that no human engineering can
+rival, and all you have to do is to smooth it to your own liking.
+
+And now the great panorama of the far North--a noble change from the
+flat unending monotony of the Russian steppes--begins in all its
+splendor. At one moment we are buried in a dark depth of forest, shadowy
+and spectral as those which haunt us in the weird outlines of Retzsch;
+the next minute we burst upon an open valley, bright with fresh grass,
+and with a still, shining lake slumbering in the centre, the whole
+picture framed in a background of sombre woods. Here rise giant boulders
+of granite, crested with spreading pines--own brothers, perhaps, of the
+block dragged hence eighty years ago from which the greatest of Russian
+rulers still looks down upon the city that bears his name;[F] there,
+bluffs of wooded hill rear themselves above the surrounding sea of
+foliage, and at times the roadside is dotted with the little wooden huts
+of the natives, whence wooden-faced women, turbaned with colored
+handkerchiefs, and white-headed children, in nothing but a short
+night-gown with a warm lining of dirt, stare wonderingly at us as we go
+striding past. And over all hangs the clear, pearly-gray northern sky.
+
+One hour is past, and still the air keeps moderately fresh, although the
+increasing glare warns us that it will be what I once heard a British
+tourist call "more hotterer" by and by. So far, however, we have not
+turned a hair, and the second hour's work matches the first to an inch.
+As we pass through the little hamlet which marks the first quarter of
+our allotted distance we instinctively pull out our watches: "Ten miles
+in two hours! Not so bad, but we must keep it up."
+
+So we set ourselves to the third hour, and out comes the sun--bright and
+beautiful and destroying as Homer's Achilles:
+
+    Bright are his rays, but evil fate they send,
+    And to sad man destroying heat portend.
+
+Hitherto, despite the severity of our pace, we have contrived to keep up
+a kind of flying conversation, but now grim silence settles on our way.
+There is a point in every match against time when the innate ferocity of
+man, called forth by the exercises which civilization has borrowed from
+the brute creation, comes to the front in earnest--when your best friend
+becomes your deadly enemy, and the fact of his being one stride in
+advance of you is an injury only to be atoned by blood. Such is the
+precise point that we have reached now; and when we turn from exchanging
+malignant looks with each other, it is only to watch with ominous
+eagerness for the coming in sight of the painted verst-posts, which
+somehow appear to succeed one another far more slowly than they did an
+hour ago.
+
+By the middle of the fourth hour we are marching with coats off and
+sleeves rolled up, like amateur butchers; and although our "pace" is as
+good as ever, the elastic swing of our first start is now replaced by
+that dogged, "hard-and-heavy" tramp which marks the point where the
+flesh and the spirit begin to pull in opposite directions. Were either
+of us alone, the pace would probably slacken at once, and each may
+safely say in his heart, as Condorcet said of the dying D'Alembert,
+"Had I not been there he _must_ have flinched!"
+
+But just as the fourth hour comes to an end (during which we have looked
+at our watches as often as Wellington during the terrible mid-day hours
+that preceded the distant boom of the Prussian cannon) we come round a
+sharp bend in the road, and there before us lies the quaint little
+log-built post-house (the "halfway house" in very truth), with its
+projecting roof and painted front and striped doorposts; just at which
+auspicious moment I stumble and twist my foot.
+
+"You were right to reserve _that_ performance to the last," remarks
+P---- with a grin, helping me to the door; and we order a _samovar_
+(tea-urn) to be heated, while we ourselves indulge in a scrambling wash
+of the rudest kind, but very refreshing nevertheless.
+
+Reader, did you ever walk five miles an hour for four hours together
+over a hilly country, with the thermometer at eighty-three degrees in
+the shade? If so, then will you appreciate our satisfaction as we throw
+aside our heavy boots, plunge our swollen feet into cold water, and,
+with coats off and collars thrown open, sit over our tea and black bread
+in that quaint little cross-beamed room, with an appetite never excited
+by the best _plats_ of the Erz-Herzog Karl or the Trois Fr�res
+Proven�aux. Two things, at least, one may always be sure of finding in
+perfection at a Russian post-station: tea is the one; the other I need
+not particularize, as its presence does not usually become apparent till
+you "retire to rest" (?).
+
+Our meal being over and my foot still unfit for active service, we order
+a _telyayga_ (cart) and start anew for Imatra Foss. Our vehicle is
+simply a wooden tray on wheels, with a bag of hay in it, on which we do
+our best to recline, while our driver perches himself on the edge of the
+cart, thereby doubtless realizing vividly the sensation of rowing hard
+in a pair of thin unmentionables. Thanks to the perpetual gaps in the
+road formed by the great thaw two months ago (the Finnish winter ending
+about the beginning of May), during the greater part of the ride we
+play an animated though involuntary game of cup-and-ball, being thrown
+up and caught again incessantly. At length a dull roar, growing ever
+louder and louder, breaks the dreamy stillness of the forest, and before
+long we come to a little chalet-like inn embosomed in trees, where we
+alight, for this is the "Imatra Hotel."
+
+Let us cast one glance out of the back window before sitting down to
+supper (in a long, bare, chilly chamber like a third-class
+waiting-room), for such a view is not seen every day. We are on the very
+brink of a deep narrow gorge, the upper part of which is so thickly clad
+with pines as to resemble the crest of some gigantic helmet, but beneath
+the naked granite stands out in all its grim barrenness, lashed by the
+spray of the mighty torrent that roars between its projecting rocks.
+Just below us, the river, forced back by a huge boulder in the centre of
+its course, literally piles itself up into a kind of liquid mound,
+foaming, flashing and trembling incessantly, the ceaseless motion and
+tremendous din of the rapids having an indescribably bewildering effect.
+
+On quitting our inn the next morning a very picturesque walk of half an
+hour brings us to a little hut beside the Saima Ferry, where we find a
+party of "three fishers" from St. Petersburg, comprising a Russian
+colonel, an ex-chasseur d'Afrique (now an actor at one of the Russian
+theatres) and an Englishman. The three give us a cordial welcome, and
+insist upon our joining them; and for the next few days our surroundings
+are savagely picturesque enough to satisfy Jean-Jacques himself--living
+in a cabin of rough-hewn logs plastered with mud, sleeping on a bundle
+of straw, with our knapsacks for a pillow; tramping for miles every day
+through the sombre pine forest or fishing by moonlight in the shadowy
+lake, with the silence of a newly-created world all around; and having
+an "early pull" every morning across the ferry with our host, a squat,
+yellow-haired, gnome-like creature in sheepskin frock and bark shoes,
+who manifests unbounded amazement every time he sees us washing our
+hands.
+
+But the lake itself is, if possible, even more picturesque than the
+river. It is one of those long, straggling bodies of water so common in
+the far North, resembling not so much one great lake as an endless
+series of small ones. Just at the sortie of the river a succession of
+rapids, scarcely less magnificent than those of the "Foss" itself, rush
+between the wooded shores, their unresting whirl and fury contrasting
+gloriously with the vast expanse of glassy water above, crested with
+leafy islets and mirroring the green boughs that droop over it along the
+shore. Here did we spend many a night fishing and "spinning yarns," in
+both of which accomplishments the ex-chasseur was pre-eminent; and
+strange enough it seemed, lying in the depths of that northern forest,
+to listen to descriptions of the treeless sands of Egypt and the burning
+wastes of the Sahara. Our midnight camp, on a little promontory just
+above the rapids, was a study for Rembrandt--the slender pine-stems
+reddened by the blaze of our camp-fire; the group of bearded faces
+coming and going as the light waxed and waned; beyond the circle of
+light a gloom all the blacker for the contrast; the ghostly white of the
+foam shimmering through the leaves, and the clear moonlit sky
+overhanging all.
+
+When a wet day came upon us the inexhaustible ex-chasseur (who, like
+Frederick the Great, could "do everything but keep still") amused
+himself and us with various experiments in cookery, of which art he was
+a perfect master. His versatility in sauces might have aroused the envy
+of Soyer himself, and the party having brought with them a large stock
+of provisions, he was never at a loss for materials. Our ordinary dinner
+consisted of trout sauced with red wine, mutton, veal, duck, cheese,
+fresh strawberries and coffee; after which every man took his tumbler of
+tea, with a slice of lemon in it, from the stove, and the evening began.
+
+_The_ sight of the country, however, is undoubtedly the natives
+themselves. Their tawny skins, rough yellow hair and coarse flat faces
+would look uninviting enough to those who have never seen a Kalmuck or a
+Samoyede, but, despite their diet of dried fish and bread mixed with
+sawdust, both men and women are remarkably healthy and capable of
+surprising feats of strength and endurance. They make great use of bark
+for caps, shoes, plates, etc., in the making of which they are very
+skillful. As to their dress, it baffles description, and the horror of
+my friend the ex-chasseur at his first glimpse of it was as good as a
+play. On one occasion he was criticising severely the "rig" of some
+passing natives: "Voil� un qui porte un pantalon et point de bottes--un
+autre qui a des bottes et point de pantalon; peut-�tre que le troisi�me
+n'aura ni l'un ni l'autre!" At last came one with a pair of boots almost
+big enough to go to sea in, and turned up like an Indian canoe. Our
+critic eyed them in silence for a moment, and then said with a shudder,
+"Ce sont des bottes impossibles!"
+
+But there needs only a short journey here to show the folly of further
+annexations on the part of Russia while those already made are so
+lamentably undeveloped. Finland, which, rightly handled, might be one of
+the czar's richest possessions, is now, after nearly seventy years'
+occupation, as unprofitable as ever. Throughout the whole province there
+are only three hundred and ninety-eight miles of railway.[G] Post-roads,
+scarce enough in the South, are absolutely wanting in the North. Steam
+navigation on the Gulf of Bothnia extends only to Uleaborg, and is, so
+far as I can learn, actually non-existent on the great lakes, except
+between Tanasthuus and Tammerfors. Such is the state of a land
+containing boundless water-power, countless acres of fine timber,
+countless shiploads of splendid granite. But what can be expected of an
+untaught population under two millions left to themselves in an
+unreclaimed country nearly as large as France?
+
+Helsingfors can now be reached from St. Petersburg, _vi�_ Viborg, in
+fourteen and a half hours; but what is one such line to the boundless
+emptiness of Finland? The fearful lesson of 1869 will not be easily
+forgotten, when all the horrors of famine were let loose at once upon
+the unhappy province. Seed-corn was exhausted: bread became dear, dearer
+still, and then failed altogether. Men, women and children, struggling
+over snowy moors and frozen lakes toward the distant towns in which lay
+their only chance of life, dropped one by one on the long march of
+death, and were devoured ere they were cold by the pursuing wolves. Nor
+did the survivors fare much better: some reached the haven of refuge
+only to fall dead in its very streets. Others gorged themselves with
+unwholesome food, and died with it in their mouths. Fields lying waste;
+villages dispeopled; private houses turned into hospitals; fever-parched
+skeletons tottering from the doors of overcrowded asylums; children
+wandering about in gaunt and squalid nakedness; crowds of men, frenzied
+by prolonged misery and ripe for any outrage, roaming the streets night
+and day,--such were the scenes enacted throughout the length of Finland
+during two months and a half.
+
+But better days are now dawning on the afflicted land. Roads and
+railways are being pushed forward into the interior, and the ill-judged
+attempts formerly made to Russianize the population have given place to
+a more conciliatory policy. A Russian from Helsingfors tells me that
+lectures are being delivered there, and extracts from native works read,
+in the aboriginal tongue; that it is being treated with special
+attention in the great schools of Southern Finland; that there has even
+been some talk of dramatic representations in Finnish at the Helsingfors
+theatre. Such a policy is at once prudent and generous, and far better
+calculated to bind together the heterogeneous races of the empire than
+that absurd "Panslavism" which is best translated as "making every one a
+slave."
+
+                                                  DAVID KER.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[D] Finland still retains its own currency of "marks" and "pennia."
+
+[E] A fact.
+
+[F] The statue of Peter the Great stands at the corner of the
+Senate-House Square, overlooking the Neva, on a block of Finnish granite
+twenty feet high.
+
+[G] Since this was written two new lines have been opened.
+
+
+
+
+OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.
+
+
+THE DEAD OF PARIS.
+
+It is an expensive operation to die in Paris, particularly for a
+foreigner. If an unhappy American chances to pay the debt of Nature in a
+furnished apartment or a hotel, the proprietor makes the heirs of the
+deceased pay roundly for the privilege which their relation has enjoyed.
+No matter by what manner of death the departed may have made his or her
+exit, be it chronic or epidemic--anything so impossible to communicate
+as heart disease or apoplexy, for instance--every article in the room
+must be paid for at its full value, or rather quadruple that amount. As
+much as one thousand dollars has sometimes been charged for the
+plenishing of a room, everything in which, if put up at auction, would
+not have realized a tenth part of that amount. Through the efforts of
+our representatives, however, this tax has been fixed at a somewhat less
+exorbitant amount.
+
+Parisian funerals are conducted by a company--which, like most of such
+enterprises in France, is a gigantic monopoly--under the direct
+supervision of the government. The tariff of its charges includes nine
+grades of funerals, at prices ranging from fifteen hundred dollars down
+to four dollars. For the first amount the mourners enjoy all the
+splendors possible to the occasion--a hearse draped with velvet and
+drawn by four horses, each decked with ostrich-plumes and led by a groom
+clothed in a mourning livery; velvet draperies sprinkled with silver
+tears for the porte-coch�re wherein the coffin lies in state; and grand
+funeral lamps lit with spirits to flame around the bier at the church.
+For the last tariff a pine coffin painted black, a stretcher and two men
+to bear the body to the _fosse commune_, are accorded. But between these
+two extremes lies every variety of funeral that one can imagine, a very
+respectable affair with two mourning carriages being offered for about
+sixty dollars. Very few Americans are ever interred in a Paris cemetery,
+the prejudices of our nation exacting that the remains of the dead
+should be transferred to their native land. To the foreigner this
+process appears to be inexplicable, for, as a French gentleman once
+remarked to me with a shrug of his shoulders, "Only the Americans and
+English are fond of making corpses travel" (_de faire voyager leurs
+morts_). They generally prefer to call in the services of the embalmer,
+who for a charge of six hundred dollars will do his work wisely if not
+too well. Still, there are some graves of our fellow-citizens still
+visible even at P�re la Chaise. And at that historic cemetery for years
+there existed a beautiful spot, a sort of hollow on the hillside, where
+flowers, trees and grass all flourished luxuriantly, thanks to years of
+neglect. It was a wild and lovely oasis of Nature in the midst of the
+stiff, artificial formality of the rest of the cemetery, and became one
+of the sights of the place. Unfortunately, French formality revolted
+against the untamed charm of this neglected spot: the proprietor, an
+American gentleman, was sought out, the lot was repurchased by the city,
+the trees were uprooted, the hollow filled in, and the beautiful ravine
+exists no longer.
+
+The Compagnie des Pompes Fun�bres is obliged to inter the poor
+gratuitously; nor is this service light, as the number of free funerals
+is considerably greater than that of paying ones. The city pays one
+dollar to the company for each pauper funeral. The mass of material
+possessed by the company is very great, comprising six hundred vehicles
+of all kinds, three hundred horses, six thousand biers or stretchers,
+and a vast number of draperies, cushions, torches, etc. Over five
+hundred and seventy-five men are employed by this organization. Thanks
+to these ample arrangements, the terrible spectacle afforded during the
+cholera outbreaks of 1832 and 1849, when the dead were conveyed to the
+cemeteries piled in upholsterers' wagons, is not likely to be renewed,
+as during the exceptional mortality from the same cause in 1854 and 1865
+the arrangements were found to suffice for all demands.
+
+In olden times Paris was full of cemeteries: they were attached to every
+hospital and every church. The wealthy were interred in the churches
+themselves: in the church of Les Innocents, which was specially affected
+by the nobility, the aisles were often crowded with coffins awaiting
+their turn to be placed in the overcrowded vaults. Nobody troubled
+himself about the sanitary side of the question in those days, as
+witness the cemetery of Saint Roch, which in 1763 was established beside
+one of the city wells. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
+cemeteries were popular places of resort. Les Innocents was especially
+popular: it was surrounded by arcades, where booths and stores were
+established, and people came there to promenade and to amuse themselves.
+Nor were private cemeteries unknown, many prominent Jewish and
+Protestant families being privileged to inter their dead (to whom the
+Church denied burial in consecrated ground) in the gardens attached to
+their houses. Thus, when the work of reconstructing Paris under the
+Second Empire was begun, the enormous quantity of graves that were
+discovered filled the workers with amaze. The bones thus found were at
+first transferred to the Western Cemetery, which had been closed for
+over twenty years, but the accumulation speedily became unmanageable,
+and when a mass of over three thousand square feet of bones had been
+deposited there, a decree of the authorities caused the whole and all
+similar discoveries to be deposited in the catacombs.
+
+The Revolution did away with the greater part of the intramural
+cemeteries by suppressing those attached to the churches and declaring
+the ground to be national property: they were consequently parceled out
+into lots and sold. But the guillotine created a need for new
+burial-grounds, two of which were accordingly established. One, situated
+near the Place du Tr�ne, still exists: it occupies the former site of
+the gardens of the Dames Chauvinesses de Picpus. After the Revolution it
+was purchased by an association of the surviving members of families who
+had relatives interred there. This cemetery ought to be a pilgrim shrine
+for every American visiting Paris, for it was chosen as a last
+resting-place for the remains of La Fayette. The other "garden of the
+guillotine," as these cemeteries were once significantly called, has
+long since disappeared, but the Chapelle Expiatoire erected to the
+memory of Marie Antoinette and of Louis XVI. on the Boulevard Haussmann
+now marks its former site. It was there that the bodies of these royal
+victims of revolutionary fury were hastily interred in a bed of
+quicklime, with a thick layer of quicklime cast over each of them. When,
+after the Restoration, the task of exhuming the royal remains was
+undertaken, crumbling bones alone remained to point out the
+resting-place of the once beautiful daughter of the C�sars and of the
+descendant of Saint Louis. The smaller bones of the skeleton of Louis
+XVI., in particular, had almost wholly disappeared: that of the queen
+was in better preservation, owing to a smaller quantity of quicklime
+having been used. Strange to say, her garters, which were of elastic
+webbing, were found in a state of almost perfect preservation, while of
+the rest of her garments only a few rotting fragments remained. These
+garters, together with some pieces of the coffins, were presented as
+precious relics to Louis XVIII. But grave doubts have frequently been
+expressed, in view of the very slight means of identification afforded
+by the state of the remains, as to whether these crumbling relics of
+mortality were really those of the king and queen. With the exception of
+the plot on which stands the Chapelle Expiatoire, every vestige of the
+revolutionary cemetery has long since disappeared. The splendid
+Boulevard Haussmann now passes directly over its site, and the gayety
+and animation of one of the most brilliant quarters of modern Paris
+surround what was once the last resting-place of those who perished by
+the guillotine on the Place de la R�volution.
+
+The present system of Parisian cemeteries was only adopted at the
+beginning of this century. Paris now possesses twenty, the most
+important of which are P�re la Chaise and Montparnasse. The ground of
+all of these belongs to the city. You can purchase a lot to be held for
+ever, or you can buy a temporary concession, the price varying with the
+length of time for which the ground is to be held. Five years is the
+shortest period for which a lot can be accorded, as experts declare that
+the body is not wholly absorbed into the surrounding earth before that
+time.
+
+What shall Paris do with her dead? is now becoming a very serious
+question. It is against the law to bury bodies within her limits, yet
+fourteen out of her twenty cemeteries are within her bounds, and the
+vast city, spreading out on either side, soon catches up with those
+established on her exterior territories.
+
+It has been proposed to construct a new and immense cemetery at a
+distance of some twenty or thirty miles from the city, to which the
+funeral cort�ges could be transferred by rail. But the strong sentiment
+of the French for the dead has as yet prevented the realization of this
+very sensible and really necessary project. As a rule, the French are
+very fond of visiting the graves of their departed relatives, and on the
+great anniversary for such visits, "Le Jour des Morts," it is calculated
+that over half a million persons are present in the different cemeteries
+during the day. On such occasions not only are wreaths of natural
+flowers, of beads and of immortelles deposited on the tombs, but often
+the visiting-cards of the persons who have come to pay due respect to
+the dead. The tomb of Rachel, for instance, has been specially honored
+in that way, some of the visitors even turning up the corner of the card
+to show that they had called in person. The question suggests itself,
+_What if the visit should be returned?_ Edgar A. Poe might have found in
+this idea material for one of his weird and wondrous tales. We all know
+what happened when Don Juan in merry fashion begged that the statue of
+his former victim would come to take supper with him.
+
+The French authorities have indeed purchased a vast tract of ground at
+M�ry-sur-Oise, distant from Paris about one hour by rail, with intent to
+found there a vast central necropolis, but the prejudices or
+indifference of the Parisian populace have as yet prevented the
+realization of this project. Something must be done, however, and that
+speedily. Were cremation an established fact, that would settle the
+whole matter, but the French, who always seem to get an attack of piety
+in the wrong place, are horrified at such an idea. It is probable,
+therefore, that a law will be adopted, such as is now in force in
+Switzerland, making all concessions of burial-lots merely temporary.
+Such a law is already talked of, and the duration of the longest
+concession is fixed at ten years. A regulation of this kind would of
+course do away with much of the elegance of decoration that now
+distinguishes the Parisian cemeteries, as few families would care to
+erect costly monuments over a grave that must be vacated at the end of
+ten years.
+
+                                          L. H. H.
+
+
+THE RELIGIOUS STRUGGLE AT GENEVA.
+
+Even for a chance resident in Geneva, for a disinterested stranger to
+the strife, the Ultramontane and Old Catholic question is no more to be
+avoided than the _bise_ which blows in the month of November upon the
+just and the unjust. You take the longest way round through the
+sheltered streets, if you like, but the terrific north wind is certain
+to catch you at the first square you cross. And you may say you have no
+particular interest in the war of churches, and no adequate means of
+forming a judgment: you still hear a good deal that is said, and read
+much that is written, on the burning topic. If a supporter of the ruling
+party describes what occurred some months since at Bellerive on the
+lake shore, when a company of gendarmes marched into the village, took
+possession of the church, set the Swiss cross floating from the steeple
+and established the new _cur�_ by force of arms, in place of the
+Ultramontane incumbent, who had long defied the cantonal authorities and
+remained at his post in spite of reiterated orders to depart, the
+impression you receive is that of the might and majesty of the law
+triumphant. What else can be done, they ask, when the government of the
+land is flouted in open scorn? What, indeed? And the counter-display of
+banners by the vanquished party on that eventful day illustrated, it
+would appear, the well-known step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
+Every black rag on which they could lay hands dangled from the windows
+of the faithful in sign of distress: not even a petticoat rather the
+worse for wear but did duty on the occasion. And yet one thoroughly
+convinced of the puerility of such demonstrations may also think that
+the Swiss flag itself has been unfurled in causes more glorious.
+
+"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church," say the
+persecuted. "Where the government has put in an apostate priest, he
+celebrates mass to empty benches: we set up our altar in a barn, and it
+is full to overflowing." So far as this city is concerned, the statement
+is correct. The place of worship to which the Ultramontanes retired when
+driven from the cathedral of Notre Dame may, if they choose, be called a
+barn--a large one--and it is furnished with a goodly congregation,
+whereas the forty or fifty persons who assemble in their former church
+look no more than "a handful of corn upon the mountains." It must be
+admitted also that in sowing after the manner of the martyrs the
+Ultramontanes are ready and willing, and should the official rigors be
+insufficient they will perhaps do a little private bloodletting for the
+sake of contributing handsomely to the support of their cause. The
+Sisters of Charity, expelled from Geneva last year as exercising a
+pernicious influence, are said to have opened all their veins before
+they went. Excepting that blood, however, it is not apparent that they
+lost a great deal: they merely crossed the boundary into France, can
+revisit the scene of their martyrdom whenever they please, and moreover,
+in their present quality of strangers, the government has lost the right
+of interference with their apparel, so that the stiff white bonnets may
+now walk with impunity under the very nose of a _conseiller d'�tat_. The
+inhabitants of the canton are severely restricted as to costume under
+the present r�gime. No native priest is permitted a distinctive dress,
+and where a couple of large hats and long skirts are seen strolling
+through the streets, you know they are from over the border. Jesuitism
+is not to parade in full uniform, nor is it to lurk privily under never
+so humble a roof. In their struggles with the hydra-headed monster the
+men in the high places of this canton found themselves lately face to
+face with an odd set of opponents. An association of servant-girls,
+animated by the spirit of party, had stepped into the vacant quarters of
+the Sisters--a locality already confiscated by the government. The
+object of the society is praiseworthy: it provides a home for servants
+out of place, and nurses and maintains such as are sick or destitute.
+Still, the powers that be thought such Christian charity might be
+exercised as well elsewhere, and sent a notice to quit, of which the
+domestics, with a traditional contempt for lawful authority, made no
+account whatever. They were threatened with the police, but still stood
+firm, and not until an armed force actually descended upon them did they
+retire in good order, bearing one of their company on a mattress. Those
+interested in their behalf call attention to the fact that the sick
+person had to be transported through the streets on the coldest day of
+the season, while the party of the gendarmerie cause it to be understood
+that said person only took to her bed when the judicial knock sounded at
+the door.
+
+Scandalous wrangling, petty bickering, the zealous wrath of true
+conviction on either side,--there is room for them all in a contest like
+this, where every one must wear the badge of party in plain sight, and
+defend it as best he may, but defend it at all costs. To stand between
+two such hostile forces is to be regarded as an enemy by both, and is a
+situation that may seem equivocal even to lookers-on. Yet those who
+listen habitually to the one man who has chosen that unenviable post can
+hardly complain of want of clearness in his own defining of his
+position. P�re Hyacinthe is sometimes held to be on the high road to
+Protestantism. Any one who went out in the middle of some discourse of
+his, and so heard only the warm-hearted, candid confession of sympathy
+with all that is excellent among heretics, might carry away such an
+impression: those who remain until the inevitable "_mais_" with which
+the second proposition begins are convinced that to grasp the hand he
+holds out for Church unity the Protestants would have many more steps to
+take than he contemplates on his side, and that the meeting could by no
+means be a halfway one. Another numerously-supported opinion is that of
+his waiting only for a good opportunity to return to the true fold.
+Certain it is that at all times and in all places he calls himself a
+faithful son of that Church of which, as he ceases not to reiterate, he
+has never sought the ruin, but the reform. Who, however, hearing the
+scathing apostrophe that follows to the address of the misguided old man
+who holds the keys of St. Peter can feel that this son of Rome, devoted
+though he be, is very ready to sue for pardon? On the contrary, let the
+shepherd repent, then the wandering sheep may come back to the flock. A
+weightier charge against him than any other is that of betraying party,
+of faithlessly turning his back on the cause he once espoused. But that
+cause is still his, as he declares: no one has more at heart the success
+of the Old Catholic movement than he, no one a warmer desire to see the
+purified Church in the place that is hers of right; but also no one has
+a deeper abhorrence of that Church lending herself as a servant to
+political intrigues, be the government that sets them on foot called
+despotic or republican. And then the Grand Conseil comes in for no
+little scorn and contempt. P�re Hyacinthe may be a Jesuit in disguise,
+or a Calvinist at heart, or a broken reed that pierces the hand of him
+who leans on it; but there is still another hypothesis: he may be a man
+endowed with the rare gift of seeing all sides of a question with equal
+impartiality, and one not to be deterred by any party considerations
+from speaking his free opinion: in that case it is certain that he would
+find no place in either of the factions at variance in this
+commonwealth.
+
+How large the number of those who followed P�re Hyacinthe when he took
+up his present isolated position it would be difficult to estimate, for
+the services at the Casino are attended by others besides his own flock;
+Sunday after Sunday the barren concert-hall is filled, but many faces
+wear an expectant look that distinguishes them as passing strangers from
+the frequenters of the place; and when the mass begins there is evident
+doubt in the minds of some how far loyalty to their own simpler forms
+permits them to unite in this worship. They solve the question by
+standing up whenever a change of position seems to be called for; and in
+fact to kneel in the narrow, crowded seats is almost impossible, so that
+the front row, with more space at its disposal, may be properly expected
+to act as proxy for all the rest. There comes a moment, however, that
+unites Catholic and Protestant under one spell: it is when the first
+word falls from the lips of the great speaker. Whatever the subject,
+whether Catholic reform or the state of the soul after death, a
+breathless stillness bears witness to enchained attention. Such a theme
+as the latter must lead far from the daily ways of thought that many
+tread who listen: when the silver tongue ceases, one may murmur to
+another, "Mystical!" and yet a very untranscendental mind, borne upward
+for the moment by that wondrous eloquence, might well catch some vision
+of a mysterious bond between the Church militant and the Church
+triumphant--might all but feel a tie linking that strangely-mingled
+assemblage with the Blessed Company of All Saints.
+
+                                          G. H. P.
+
+
+THE COMING ELECTIONS IN FRANCE.
+
+The crisis brought about in France by Marshal MacMahon's _coup de
+palais_ of May 16, 1877, has thrown the country just four years back.
+Circumstances widely different in character from those which caused the
+overthrow of M. Thiers on May 24, 1873, have once more placed the
+government in the hands of men of whom the Republic might well have
+thought itself for ever rid. At that time the blow was struck by a
+parliamentary majority. This time it is the representative of the
+executive power who has thought fit to interfere, seeking to substitute
+an authoritative for a parliamentary government. When MacMahon assumed
+power he declared that his post was that of "a sentinel who has to watch
+over the integrity of your sovereign powers;" but it would appear as
+though the recollection of his own earlier career, his clerical
+associations and other secret influences at work, had made him ambitious
+to occupy a higher position. From the post of sentinel he leaps to that
+of generalissimo; and there can be little doubt as to the cause which
+the transition is intended to serve.
+
+There is no longer anything to fear from the Legitimists: the
+death-knell of that party was rung by the Count de Chambord's famous
+letter of October 30, 1873, declaring his continued adherence to Bourbon
+principles. Nor is aught to be apprehended from the Orleanists.
+They--the Centre-Right in the two houses--long hesitated whether to cast
+in their lot with the Republic, which would annihilate them by
+absorption with the Centre-Left, or to join the ranks of the so-called
+Conservatives, who are undoubtedly destined to swamp them in the stream
+of imperialism. After much swaying to and fro they have, it would seem,
+at length determined to follow their usual party tactics and go over
+bodily to the side which appears to them to present the least immediate
+danger--viz., the Imperialist. There is no disguising the matter. The
+battle this time will be between the Republicans and the Bonapartists.
+M. Gambetta, in the course of his eloquent speech of May 4, 1877,
+cried, "Le cl�ricalisme, voil� l'ennemi." Powerful, however, as is the
+clerical party to embarrass, it is not strong enough at the urns to
+over-turn the Republic. Imperialism alone can hope to do that when,
+arrayed in fight against the present form of government, it seeks to win
+over to its side the country population, those six million electors for
+the most part owners of the soil they till, and on whose decision hinges
+to a large extent the future of France. These _paysans_ will vote for
+one of two things--the Republic or the Empire, the marshal-president
+before the 16th of May, or the marshal-president who "belongs to the
+Right."
+
+In France this is, in some degree at least, understood, and even now
+each party is mustering all its forces so as to be prepared for the
+October elections. The Republicans are already well organized, with
+their committees and sub-committees awaiting the instructions of their
+leader. They will proceed to the polls encouraged by their success at
+the last elections, taking credit for the tranquil state of France up to
+the 16th of May, 1877, setting forth their moderation when in power, the
+guarantees they have given for the maintenance of order, and the almost
+unanimous approbation their conduct of affairs has met with at the hands
+of the foreign press.
+
+The Bonapartists will put on their panoply of battle, strong in the
+support of the marshal, his prefects, his mayors and the cohorts of
+inferior appointees, such as the gendarmes, the rural constabulary, and
+all that powerful mechanism at the disposal of a government which sets
+up official candidates with the avowed intention of carrying the
+elections by the almost irresistible force of French centralization. All
+who have seen in motion that formidable political machine called a
+French prefecture know what this implies. It will be recollected that
+nearly all the prefects have been changed since the 16th of May. The
+prefect is appointed by the Minister of the Interior, and receives from
+him every day by telegraph the word of command, while the post brings
+him official circulars. These orders he in turn communicates to his
+subordinates, the mayors. The mayors are, it is true, not all appointed
+by the prefects, those in the rural districts being elected by the town
+councils. Nevertheless, they are all more or less under the thumb of the
+prefects. They need the prefect's signature almost every day to stamp
+some official act; they require government grants for the maintenance of
+schools, roads and other purposes in their communes; they dare not
+offend the prefects, under penalty of having men appointed as rural
+constables, mayors' secretaries and letter-carriers who shall be so many
+enemies of the mayors and shall thwart them at every step. The prefect
+thus exercises enormous influence in every commune, both over the mayor
+and the lower class of appointees. He likewise holds in subjection in
+the various districts the justices of the peace, whose appointments can
+be revoked at will should they vote against orders or fail to use their
+influence on behalf of the official candidate. The prefect also reigns
+supreme over the brigades of foot and mounted gendarmerie scattered
+throughout his department. Of course, the gendarmes do not follow a man
+to the poll to see that he votes to order, but both the gendarmes and
+the rural constables understand that they are to act as gently toward
+the liquor-sellers who vote as they are bidden as they are to proceed
+rigorously against those who contend for the right of private judgment.
+If the latter get into trouble, they must be made an example of, whereas
+should the supporters of the official candidates have broken the law,
+matters may easily be arranged. Besides these instruments, the prefect
+has his newspaper, containing articles carefully prepared beforehand at
+Paris, which he has distributed gratuitously among the electors during
+the whole of the campaign. This newspaper enjoys the patronage of the
+judicial and official advertisements, for the insertion of which,
+American readers need scarcely be told, it receives very handsome pay.
+Even the post-office is made to join in the conspiracy against the
+opposition candidate, and it is no rare occurrence for the newspapers
+and the voting tickets issued by the anti-official party to be held back
+at the post-office until the day after the election.
+
+All these means, and others besides, are used to intimidate the country
+population. The strength of the administration is paraded before them. A
+great show of energy--or, to use the expressive French word, _de
+poigne_--is made. This is done in order that the French peasant,
+instinctively attracted by a display of power and repelled by an
+exhibition of weakness, may cast his vote for the man who appears to be
+the stronger candidate, and who enjoys the friendship of Monsieur le
+Pr�fet.
+
+In February, 1876, M. Buffet, then Minister of the Interior, only
+employed the means above described sparingly and stealthily. The favor
+with which he viewed the aspirations of the clerical party caused him to
+allow the Bonapartist machine to get somewhat rusty. In October, 1877,
+M. de Fourtou, the Bonapartist Minister of the Interior, selected by the
+marshal and his advisers as the fittest for the post, will, we may rest
+assured, make ample use of the levers of administrative centralization.
+His past career furnishes evidence that he will not hesitate an instant
+to declare as the official nominee, and energetically to support, any
+anti-Republican candidate having the least chance of success. Under such
+circumstances in almost every electoral district in the north, centre
+and west of France there will be a Bonapartist candidate. The situation
+insensibly recalls Dryden's well-known lines:
+
+    To further this, Achitophel unites
+    The malcontents of all the Israelites,
+    Whose differing parties he could wisely join
+    For several ends to serve the same design.
+
+Even in 1876, when they were left to their own resources, the
+Imperialists were able to carry the election of about a hundred of their
+adherents. Now, with one of their own party as the leading wire-puller,
+and with the aid of the not over-scrupulous _pr�fets � poigne_--who have
+scarcely forgotten the instruction they received during Napoleon's
+reign--the Imperialists will not despair of getting another one hundred
+and fifty, perhaps even two hundred, members into the Chamber.
+
+                                          C. H. H.
+
+
+VON MOLTKE IN TURKEY.
+
+Artemus Ward, giving his reasons for approving of G. Washington, adduced
+the pleasing fact that "George never slopped over." Had that king of
+jokers ever uttered a "sparkling remark" about H. von Moltke (as we may
+be sure he would have done if he had lived until now), it would most
+probably have conveyed a very similar idea in equally scintillating
+language. It is currently reported of the last-named gentleman that he
+"keeps silence in seven languages." Like the great William of Orange, he
+is popularly nicknamed in his own country "the silent man" (_der
+Schweiger_). Perhaps this habitual reticence is one reason why his
+utterances are received--when he speaks at all--by his countrymen
+generally with such deep respect and interest; for even the all-powerful
+Bismarck cannot command, among Germans, a stricter attention to his
+speeches. And with regard to military subjects at least, it is natural
+that the rest of the world should not be altogether indifferent to what
+the famous strategist may have to say.
+
+But this ability to refrain from utterance did not, at an earlier period
+of his life, prevent his doing what is traditionally asserted to gratify
+a man's enemies; and patriotic Frenchmen ought to be glad to know that
+he once wrote a book. Indeed, he has written more than one, but there is
+one of his productions which is now attracting a great deal of
+attention. This work is entitled "_Letters on the State of, and Events
+in, Turkey, from 1835 to 1839_. By Helmuth von Moltke, Captain on the
+General Staff, afterward General and Field-marshal." At least this is
+the title under which the book has lately been republished at Berlin.
+The original designation was a little less overpowering, but quite huge
+enough, apparently, to smother the young literary effort; for it died
+quickly, and though some forty years have passed since the first edition
+appeared (with a warm recommendation from the eminent geographer Karl
+Ritter), yet the one just issued is only the second. It is now preceded
+by a short introduction written for the publishers at their urgent
+request; and no more widely-popular book has appeared in Germany for
+many years. The people take a vast amount of pleasure in reading the
+descriptions of their staid, soldierly old field-marshal attired in
+Oriental garb and figuring among scenes which might have been taken from
+the _Arabian Nights_.
+
+But, aside from any personal considerations, the book is really a very
+interesting and valuable one, and unquestionably deserved a better fate
+than that which overtook it at first. And now that everything connected
+with Turkey possesses a special interest for the world at large, it will
+well repay a careful perusal.
+
+"Captain" von Moltke went to Turkey in the thirty-fifth year of his age,
+and at a time when the public interest in that country was hardly less
+active than it has been lately. The war of 1828 and 1829, and Sultan
+Mahmud II.'s energetic action in fighting his foes and undertaking vast
+internal reforms, had caused the attention of the world to be
+concentrated upon his affairs. The young German staff-officer intended
+spending only a few weeks in the Ottoman empire. But the sultan was
+anxious to avail himself of the services of just such men, and the offer
+of an appointment as _musteschar_ ("imperial councilor") was too
+tempting for Von Moltke to refuse. Installed in his office, he soon made
+his value apparent to both the sultan and Chosrew Pasha, the seraskier,
+who was in high favor at court, and in a short time a vast number and
+variety of duties were assigned to him. Was a difficult bridge-building
+project to be carried out, he was the man to make it a success; did the
+sultan's palace need to have another tower perched upon it, he must
+direct the work: in fact, it seemed to be the prevailing impression that
+the advice and assistance of "Moltke Pasha" were good things to have in
+any situation.
+
+His good standing in high government circles made him much sought after
+by Turkish subordinate officials, who hoped to make use of his interest
+to their own advantage. According to the common custom in that part of
+the world, they sent him presents in great numbers. Horses enough were
+given to him to mount a whole company of cavalry, and not unfrequently
+also these propitiatory offerings took the form of hard cash. He asserts
+that any hesitation about accepting these donations would merely have
+convinced the givers that he thought them too small; and he was
+therefore obliged to resort to the expedient of dividing them among his
+servants and employ�s. These proceedings won for him the honorable
+distinction of being considered _delih_, which may be translated by the
+popular expression "cracked." Among other delicate attentions offered to
+him as a stranger was the infliction of the bastinado upon certain
+criminals in his presence and with a view to his gratification. Certain
+Greeks, who were thus made to take a very important part in getting the
+entertainment to the foreigner _on foot_, were considerately allowed a
+very liberal reduction in the number of blows they were to receive,
+which was only twenty-five hundred!
+
+But, in addition to such diversions, Von Moltke's experiences in Turkey
+included many opportunities to become thoroughly acquainted with the
+face of the country and the characteristics of the various races
+inhabiting it. He accompanied the sultan during an extensive tour made
+by the latter among the Christian provinces, and gives an interesting
+account of the journey. At another time he was sent to Syria, where the
+royal forces were operating against Ibrahim Pasha, and here it was that
+the future great general went through his first campaign. That it ended
+in a most disastrous defeat for the side upon which he was enlisted does
+not seem to have been due to any want of energy on his part. Soon after
+this he gave up his post under the Turkish government and returned to
+his native land.
+
+                                          W. W. C.
+
+
+PUNCHING THE DRINKS.
+
+The latest move upon John Barleycorn's works is engineered by the
+legislative wisdom of the Old Dominion. It consists in a bell-punch on
+the model, embalmed already in poetry, of the implement which forms the
+most conspicuous feature of the street-car conductor's outfit. The
+disappearance of each drink is to be announced to all within hearing by
+a sprightly peal on a kind of joy-bell Edgar A. Poe lived too soon to
+include in his tintinnabulatory verses. The chimes vary in intensity and
+glee according to the magnitude of the event they at once celebrate and
+record. Lager elicits but a modest jingle, whisky unadorned is honored
+with a louder greeting, and the arrival of an artistic cobbler at the
+seat of thirst is the signal for a triple bob-major of the most
+brilliant vivacity. On a court day, an election day or a circus day the
+air will vibrate to the incessant and inspiriting clangor; and as in one
+part or another of the Commonwealth one at least of those festivals so
+dear to freemen is in blast always, the din will be ended only by
+midnight, resounding over her whole surface from daylight to the
+witching hour.
+
+J.B.'s assailants, and their modes of attack, are innumerable. Every
+foot of his enceinte is scarred with the dint of siege, and from every
+battlement "the flight of baffled foes" he has "watched along the
+plain." Sap and storm have alike failed to bring down his rosy colors.
+Father Mathew, Gough, the Sons of Temperance, the Straight-Outs,--where
+are they? He stands intact and defiant. Should he surrender, it will be
+a wondrous triumph, and all the more so for the simplicity of the means.
+The marvel will be, as with Columbus and the egg, why everybody did not
+think of it long ago.
+
+The way once opened, all will flock in. Divines, statesmen, moralists
+and financiers will all strike for the new placer. The moral reformers
+will brandish aloft the tinkling weapon, enthusiastic in their
+determination to use it to the utmost and bring down tippling to a
+minimum. Lawmakers and tax-gatherers will rejoice over a new and fertile
+source of revenue, and pile upon it impost on impost, secure of the
+approval of the most grumbling of tax-payers. To the new fiscal and
+moral California all will flock.
+
+The extent of the revolution is as little to be estimated in advance as
+was that caused by Columbus's voyage. Strong drink pervades all
+civilized lands. It is a universal element, the elimination of which
+must produce changes impossible to be calculated or foreseen. Should the
+grand moral results anticipated follow, the difference between civilized
+man and his sober savage fellow will be widened. Progress will no longer
+be handicapped, and will press forward with accelerated speed. Its path
+will cease to be strewn with broken fortunes, happiness and bottles.
+Policemen and criminal courts will lose, according to standard
+statistics, four-fifths of their occupation. In that proportion the
+cause of virtue will gain. Mankind will be four hundred per cent. more
+honest and peaceable than before the passage of the whisky-punch bill.
+With the public treasury full, and the detective, the juryman and the
+shyster existent only in a fossil state, the millennium will have been,
+as the phrase runs, discounted.
+
+But we run foul of the inevitable and inexorable _If_. Is the machine
+invented that is to do such work? Is it within the reach of any
+combination of springs, ratchets and clappers? Is the leviathan of
+strong drink to be hooked after that fashion--a bit put in his mouth and
+the monster made to draw the car of state? We shall see. The end would
+justify much more ponderous and hazardous means, and the chance is worth
+taking. Independent of the general blessing to mankind involved in the
+punch idea, Virginia proposes in it a special benefit to herself; and
+that of course is her chief motive. States so very much in debt as she
+is are not prone to quixotic philanthropy. Should this novel form of
+taxation assist in paying the interest on her bonds, she will patiently
+wait for the secondary, if broader, good accruing to the world at large.
+Men, she argues, who are able to indulge in stimulants are able to pay
+their debts, and at least their share of the public debt. Each click of
+the bell proclaims her adoption of this theory, and at the same time her
+anxiety to find some means of satisfying her creditors. If she can
+cancel at once her bonds and Barleycorn, so much the better.
+
+                                          E. B.
+
+
+THE NAUTCH-DANCERS OF INDIA.
+
+The Prince of Wales was severely censured by some of the English
+journals for dignifying by his presence the nautch-dancing of India.
+These performances are peculiar to the country and its religion, and
+constitute so important a part of the marvels of the East that few male
+travelers at least fail to witness them. Probably the prince saw no good
+reason why he should forego any of the benefits of sightseeing
+vouchsafed to the ordinary traveler. Dancing has always been an
+important feature of the ceremonial worship of most Oriental peoples.
+Every temple of note in India has attached to it a troop of
+nautch-dancers. According to Mr. Sellen, the author of _Annotations of
+the Sacred Writing's of the Hindus_ (London, 1865), these young girls
+are "early initiated into all the mysteries of their profession. They
+are instructed in dancing and vocal and instrumental music, their chief
+employment being to chant the sacred hymns and perform nautches before
+their god on the recurrence of high festivals." One of the English
+papers declared that "witnessing the physical contortions of half-nude
+prostitutes" was hardly a commendable amusement in the future sovereign
+of Great Britain. But this is hardly just. Vile as the calling of the
+nautch-women may be--and one of their duties is to raise funds for the
+aggrandizement of the temple to which they are attached by selling
+themselves in its courts--it does not degrade like ordinary prostitution
+where all society shuns and abhors its votary. In India both priest and
+layman respect the calling of the nautch-girls as one advancing the
+cause of religion. It is possible, therefore, to see that their moral
+nature is, in a sense, sustained by self-respect. "Being always women of
+more or less personal attractions, which are enhanced," says the same
+author, "by all the seductions of dress, jewels, accomplishments and
+art, they frequently receive large sums for the favors they grant, and
+fifty, one hundred, and even two hundred, rupees have been known to be
+paid to these sirens at one time." Nor is this very much to be wondered
+at if it be true that they comprise among their number "some of the
+loveliest women in the world."
+
+                                          M. H.
+
+
+
+
+LITERATURE OF THE DAY.
+
+
+     The Two Americas: An Account of Sport and Travel, with Notes
+     on Men and Manners, in North and South America. By Major Sir
+     Rose Lambart Price, Bart. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott &
+     Co.
+
+It would hardly be inferred from such a title that the duodecimo in
+large print which assumes to discuss the New World is occupied with the
+diary of a tour in a gunboat from Rio de Janeiro through Magellan's
+Straits and up the west coast of South America to San Diego, and thence
+by stage and railway to San Francisco, Salt Lake and Chicago. An
+exploration of this character could not be exhaustive, and the
+successors of the gallant major will find an abundance of matter left in
+the twin continents for much larger books with much smaller titles.
+
+It must be said, in justice to the writer, that the pretentiousness of
+his book is only skin-deep. It "thunders in the index," but disappears
+after the front page. He makes no claim to profundity, and is satisfied
+to be an authority among Nimrods rather than with statesmen and
+philosophers. The rod and gun suit his hand better than the pen, and he
+takes not the least trouble to disguise the fact. Style is the very
+least of his cares: we should almost judge, indeed, that he likes to
+parade his contempt for it. The pronoun _who_ he constantly applies to
+animals, from a sheep to a shellfish. Of the Uruguayan thistles he
+notes: "The abundance of this weed was quite surprising, and consisted
+chiefly of two kinds." The gentleman of color he invariably mentions as
+a _nigger_--a word as strange to ears polite in America, and perhaps as
+natural to them in England, as _nasty_. He plucks at Sir G. Wolseley's
+laurels won in "licking a few miserable niggers in Ashantee."
+
+But literary vanities can be despised by a man who drops a prong-horned
+antelope at one thousand and ninety yards; overtakes by swimming, and
+captures, a turtle in mid-ocean; finishes with a single ball a grizzly
+_who_ had put to flight the settlers of half a county in Idaho; stalks a
+guanaco in Patagonia nine feet high to the top of the head; and catches
+in one day's fishing, "the only day I really worked hard, twenty-seven
+California salmon, weighing three hundred and twenty-four pounds." The
+majesty of the facts utterly overshadows any little blemishes in the
+method of stating them. Truth so grand might well afford to present
+itself quite naked, as Truth poetically does--much more somewhat
+defective in the cut of its garments.
+
+Sir Rose Price is a cosmopolitan sportsman, having hunted the jungles of
+India, the swamps of Eastern Africa and China, the fjelds of Norway, and
+most other fields of "mimic war." As usual with persons of that taste,
+he enjoys perfect health, and, like most persons who know that great
+blessing, he is full of bonhommie and looks on the rosy side of things.
+Mosquitoes he dislikes: he denounces also the modern Peruvians. But his
+chief bitterness is reserved for the unhappy gunboat, the Rocket, which
+took eight months to get him to San Diego, and spent half an hour in
+turning round. Whether or not that particular segment of England's
+wooden walls was built in the eclipse, no reader of Sir Rose's book will
+doubt that she is rigged with curses dark. When he leaves her a cloud
+seems to be lifted from his soul. Everything thereafter is delightful,
+if we except the climate of San Francisco, which he abominates as windy
+and extreme in its daily changes, and the social system which prevails
+under Brigham Young. The "big trees" transport him; the California
+stage-drivers are unapproachable in the world; the officers of the
+United States army treat him with the most assiduous and unvaried
+courtesy and hospitality; the ladies of both coasts of the United
+States are unrivaled for beauty; and "the more one sees of America, both
+of people and country, the better one likes both." He sums up in the
+following climax: "Should any visit America after reading these lines,
+let me advise them to pay particular attention to three subjects--_i.
+e._, canvas-back ducks, terrapin and madeira. This to the uninitiated is
+a hint worth remembering." The last word, we take it, refers to the wine
+of that name, which we had thought was still in process of very slow
+recovery from the eclipse of twenty-five years ago. The major, however,
+knows wine, and speaks impartially of it. The wines of California he
+damns unreservedly: the Californians themselves, he says, never drink
+them.
+
+Sir Rose Price became intimate with the brave and unfortunate Custer. He
+was to have joined that officer on the expedition which terminated so
+fatally. His "traps were packed" and he was ready to start, when, as he
+states it, a singular train of untoward events interposed and saved his
+scalp. Secretary Belknap was impeached--General Custer was summoned to
+Washington and gave testimony unfavorable to the accused. General
+Grant's alleged disgust thereat caused Custer to be deprived of
+independent command and the power of appointing a staff. Hence _The Two
+Americas_ and one scalp less at the belt of Sitting Bull.
+
+
+     Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall): An Autobiographical
+     Fragment and Biographical Notes; with Personal Sketches of
+     Contemporaries, Unpublished Lyrics, and Letters of Literary
+     Friends. Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+Neither the biographer nor the critic finds it easy to get a good grip
+on a personal or literary career so little marked by salient features as
+that of Procter. The lives of few individuals have rolled on more evenly
+than his did for the round eighty years which made its term. Not of high
+or of low birth, rich or poor, feeble or vigorous in health, a man of
+the world or a recluse, ardent or cold in emotions, his figure is
+strangely wanting in light and shade. As a poet and a thinker his
+character is equally evasive. His verse can rarely be pronounced
+decidedly feeble or commonplace, and never lofty or thrilling. He will
+be remembered by two or three short poems tender in fancy and soft in
+finish. Inquirers who are tempted by these to explore the rest of his
+productions will find them readable, but not memorable, and will wonder
+at learning that a tragedy of Procter's attained a success on the London
+stage denied to either of Tennyson's.
+
+The poet will go down to posterity under an assumed name, that under
+which he was almost exclusively known to readers of his own day. Thus
+buried under an anonym, and gravitating at all points toward mediocrity,
+it is odd that so much interest should centre in his life and works as
+we actually find to exist. This interest may be mainly ascribed to his
+surroundings. Like Rogers, he shines by reflected light. He numbered
+among his friends or acquaintances, in varied shades of intimacy, almost
+every celebrity in British literature during two generations. To these
+were added leading representatives of the fine arts, music and the
+drama--Mendelssohn, Lawrence, Landseer, Turner, the Kembles, Edmund
+Kean. It was a notable visiting-list that embraced all the Lake school,
+Byron, Dickens, Thackeray, the two Lyttons, Scott, Sydney Smith and a
+number of others as incongruous in time and tenets. Good taste,
+amiability, the means and disposition to entertain, would have sufficed,
+with the aid of less of intellectual and imaginative power than Procter
+possessed, to keep him in good companionship with men like these, who
+felt the need of a common professional rallying-point in the metropolis.
+He avoided collision with any of their crotchets and idiosyncrasies. His
+antipathies were few, and what he had he was generally successful in
+repressing. De Quincey seems to have been lowest in his estimation. The
+genial Elia and the fiery Hazlitt divided his especial and lasting
+attachment.
+
+Procter was always haunted by the very natural impression that he owed
+to the world some use of the opportunities afforded him for the study of
+mind and character by such a concourse of leading men. But he failed to
+make even a move toward the discharge of that task until a short time
+before the close of his life. The results, slight as they are, form
+perhaps the most interesting section of the book before us. It embraces
+short notices of Byron, Rogers, Crabbe, the three chief Lakers, Leigh
+Hunt, Hazlitt, Carlyle, Haydon, Campbell, Moore and a few others.
+Coleridge, we are told, had a "prodigious amount of miscellaneous
+reading" always at command, and forgot everything in the pleasure of
+hearing himself talk when he could secure an audience. Wordsworth's
+poverty at one period of his life is illustrated by his having been met
+emerging from a wood with a quantity of hazelnuts which he had gathered
+to eke out the scanty dinner of his family. Doubtless he had collected
+finer things than nuts, if less available for material sustenance.
+Wordsworth, breakfasting with Rogers, excused his being late by saying
+he had been detained by one of Coleridge's long monologues. He had
+called so early on Coleridge, he explained, because he was to dine with
+him that evening. "And," said Rogers, "you wanted to draw the sting out
+of him beforehand." Campbell was in society cautious, stiff and precise,
+like much of his verse, but was subject to occasional outbreaks,
+analogous to the "Battle of the Baltic" and "Ye Mariners of England."
+Crabbe resembled Moore in his passion for lords. Walter Scott was big,
+broad, easy and self-poised, like one of his own historical novels. He
+impressed Procter more than any of the rest as great, and consciously
+great. Leigh Hunt was "essentially a gentleman;" he "treated all people
+fairly, yet seldom or never looked up to any one with much respect;" and
+"his mind was feminine rather than manly, without intending to speak
+disrespectfully of his intellect."
+
+Part IV. of the book is devoted to selections from letters written to
+Procter. Jeffrey, Byron, Carlyle and Beddoes are the chief
+correspondents quoted. Those from Byron are strongly Byronesque, but
+give us no new points, unless in the high moral tone he assumes in
+defending _Don Juan_. That poem does, he avers, no injustice to the
+English aristocracy, which he maintains to have been at that time the
+most profligate in Europe. The prominent details of the queen's trial
+and others like it would "in no other country have been _publicly_
+tolerated a moment." Was it Byron's theory, then, that all kinds of
+morality are merely relative, and the outgrowth of local conditions?
+
+The materials at the command of the editor of this book were obviously
+very meagre. Yet it has undoubted value. If neither a corner-stone, a
+voussoir nor a capital, it has at least its place in the edifice which
+forms the literary history of the nineteenth century. Beyond that value
+it has merit as the simple record of a life enriched by the charms of
+poetry and elegant taste and the social and domestic charities.
+
+
+     Turkey. By James Baker, M.A., Lieutenant-Colonel Auxiliary
+     Forces, formerly Eighth Hussars. New York: Henry Holt & Co.
+
+The announcement of this book as "a companion volume to Wallace's
+_Russia_" provokes a comparison greatly to its disadvantage. The
+qualities most conspicuous in Mr. Wallace's work, thoroughness of
+exposition, skillful arrangement, breadth of view and mastery of
+details, are wholly wanting in Colonel Baker's _Turkey_. The information
+which it gives from the author's personal observation is fragmentary and
+disappointing; the matter gleaned from other sources is chiefly
+surplusage; the expressions of opinion indicate positiveness rather than
+keen insight or impartial judgment; and, what renders the contrast still
+more striking, the book as evidently owes its dimensions, if not its
+existence, to the immediate interest of the subject as Mr. Wallace's
+work was the slowly-ripened fruit of long and patient study, and its
+opportune appearance a fortuitous advantage that added little to its
+attractiveness. It is, however, no ground for condemning a book that it
+has been written to supply information for which there is a present
+demand; and if Colonel Baker had confined himself to telling us what he
+knew, and his publishers had refrained from exciting undue expectations,
+the contribution might have been accepted thankfully for what it was
+worth, without special complaint in regard to its deficiencies. About
+half the book is readable, and this includes some portions which,
+besides being interesting, derive a special value from the author's
+qualifications for speaking authoritatively on the points discussed in
+them. He traveled somewhat extensively in Bulgaria; he purchased and
+cultivated an estate in the neighborhood of Salonica, and was thus
+brought into those relations of landlord, employer and taxpayer which
+entail a certain familiarity with the workings of the administrative
+machinery and with the habits and feelings of the rural population; and,
+finally, as a soldier, he writes with full comprehension and
+intelligence on the military resources of the country and the prospects
+of the war which was seen to be inevitable when his book went to press.
+In reference to the last point, he even sketches a plan of defence which
+it seems not improbable may be that which the government will adopt, if
+its own collapse or the intervention of other powers does not bring the
+struggle to a speedier termination or an unforeseen issue. He considers
+the Danube with its defences as offering no obstacle of importance to
+the overwhelming forces preparing to cross it. The Balkan affords
+numerous passes which may be traversed at all seasons except in the
+depth of winter, and no points of defence that may not easily be turned.
+But after crossing this range the Russians will be more than three
+hundred miles from their base, and all their supplies will have to be
+brought over the mountains. Their numbers will have been so diminished
+by sickness and by the large detachments necessary for masking the
+fortresses in their rear, that out of the four hundred thousand with
+which Colonel Baker supposes them to open the campaign, they cannot be
+expected to operate with more than one hundred thousand south of the
+Balkan. They will still have a difficult country before them, and from
+Burgas, on the Black Sea, where Colonel Baker proposes the establishment
+of an entrenched camp, to be constantly supplied and reinforced by
+water-transport from Constantinople, their flanks may be harassed and
+their communications threatened, making it impossible for them to march
+on Adrianople before ridding themselves of this danger. "It may be
+argued," says Colonel Baker, "that this plan of defence would be giving
+over a large portion of the empire to Russian occupation, but the answer
+is, that Turkey, being in command of the Black Sea, could strangle all
+Russian commerce in those waters until that power released her grip of
+the Ottoman throat." But whatever be the merit or the feasibility of
+this plan, it presupposes not only a design on the part of Russia to
+advance upon Constantinople, which is doubtful, but a degree of energy
+in the Turkish government and military commanders which it is almost
+certain does not exist. The Ottoman power is to all appearance perishing
+of inanition, and the mere hastening of its dissolution through external
+shocks is not to be deprecated. But it is puerile to imagine that this
+will be the only or chief result of the war now going on, if not
+arrested by intervention in one form or another. In the delicate and
+complicated relations of the European states the dismemberment of one
+empire and the aggrandizement of another are not such changes as can
+occur without affecting the whole system, and that harmony of action
+which it was found impossible to secure as a means of averting war is
+not likely to show itself when some decisive catastrophe shall have
+developed the possibilities to be hoped or apprehended, brought
+conflicting interests into play and suggested new combinations. Whether
+a different course, with joint action, on the part of the powers that
+now affect neutrality would have led to a more satisfactory result, is
+itself a mere matter of speculation; but out of England few persons will
+be disposed to agree with Colonel Baker in putting on Russia the whole
+responsibility both of the war and of the events which are pleaded as
+the justification of it. While conceding the corruption, apathy and
+general incompetence of the Turkish government, he contends that
+oppression is the exception, not the rule, that the chief mischiefs have
+sprung directly from Russian intrigue, that the country has been making
+rapid progress in many ways, and that time alone might safely have been
+trusted to bring about all desirable reforms. So far as the general
+condition of the people is concerned, his statements are entitled to
+weight. But beyond the limits of his own experience his boldness in
+assertion will not incline the reader to accept him as a safe guide. His
+book would have left a far more favorable impression had he confined
+himself to the description of what he saw and the relation of his own
+adventures, leaving Turkish history and political speculations to
+writers of a different class.
+
+
+
+
+_Books Received._
+
+
+The Music Reader; or, The Practice and Principles of the Art, especially
+adapted to Vocal Music. For the use of Schools, Classes and Private
+Instruction. By Leopold Meignen and Wm. W. Keys. Philadelphia: W. H.
+Boner & Co., Agts.
+
+Standard Facts and Figures; or, What you Do Know! What you Don't Know!!
+What you Want to Know!!! (Revised and enlarged edition.) Edited by A. G.
+Sullivan. New York: Morton & Dumont.
+
+The Divine Order of the Universe, as interpreted by Emanuel Swedenborg;
+with especial relation to Modern Astronomy. By Rev. Augustus Clissold,
+M. A. London: Longmans, Green & Co.
+
+From Traditional to Rational Faith; or, The Way I came from Baptist to
+Liberal Christianity. By R. Andrew Griffin. (Town-and-Country Series.)
+Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+The Life, Times and Character of Oliver Cromwell. (Half-Hour Series.) By
+the Right Honorable E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen, M. P. New York: Harper &
+Bros.
+
+How to Teach according to Temperament and Mental Development; or,
+Phrenology in the School-room and the Family. By Nelson Sizer. New York:
+S. R. Wells & Co.
+
+Rise of the People and Growth of Parliament, 1215-1485: Epochs of
+English History. By James Rowley, M. A. (Harper's Half-Hour Series.) New
+York: Harper & Bros.
+
+Imaginary Conversations. By Walter Savage Landor. (Fourth Series.)
+Dialogues of Literary Men, of Famous Women, etc. Boston: Roberts
+Brothers.
+
+Peru: Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the Land of the Incas, By
+E. George Squier, M. A., F. S. A. New York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+A Winter Story. By Miss Peard, author of "The Rose Garden."
+(Town-and-Country Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+That Lass o' Lowrie's. By Frances Hodgson Burnett. Illustrated by Alfred
+Fredericks. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co.
+
+Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth. Edited, with Notes, by William J.
+Rolfe, A. M. New York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+Aloys. By B. Auerbach. Translated by Charles T. Brooks. (Leisure-Hour
+Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co.
+
+Steam Injectors: Their Theory and Use. From the French of M. L�on
+Pochet. New York: D. Van Nostrand.
+
+Academy Sketches, Exhibition of 1877. With Descriptive Notes by "Nemo."
+New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.
+
+Miss Nancy's Pilgrimage: A Story of Travel. By Virginia W. Johnson. New
+York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+Mark Twain's Adhesive Scrap Book. By Samuel L. Clemens. New York: Slote,
+Woodman & Co.
+
+Transmission of Power by Wire Ropes. By Albert W. Stahl, M. E. New York:
+D. Van Nostrand.
+
+Dot and Dime. Two Characters in Ebony. By One who Knows all about them.
+Boston: Loring.
+
+Hours with Men and Books. By William Mathews, LL.D. Chicago: S. C.
+Griggs & Co.
+
+Bessie Lang. By Alice Corkran. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry
+Holt & Co.
+
+Annual Report of the Chief Signal-Officer for 1876. Washington:
+Government Printing office.
+
+Will it Be? By Mrs. Helen J. Ford. (Loring's Tales of the Day.) Boston:
+Loring.
+
+My Lady-Help, and What she Taught me, By Mrs. Warren. Boston: Loring.
+
+A Modern Mephistopheles. (No-Name Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular
+Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 31750-8.txt or 31750-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/5/31750/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/31750-8.zip b/31750-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..21d56fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-8.zip
diff --git a/31750-h.zip b/31750-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b054fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h.zip
diff --git a/31750-h/31750-h.htm b/31750-h/31750-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75ba78e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/31750-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8885 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lippincott's Magazine, Volume 20, July, 1877.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+    .linenum  {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .notes    {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; padding: .5em;
+               margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+    .right    {text-align: right;}
+
+
+    .caption  {font-weight: bold;}
+
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+
+    .figleft     {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top:
+                 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
+
+    .figright    {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;
+                 margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
+
+    .footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+    .footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+    .footnote .label  {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;}
+    .fnanchor         {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;}
+
+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
+    .poem .stanza     {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+    .poem span.i0     {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i4     {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i11     {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i21     {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i29     {display: block; margin-left: 15em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature
+and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+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: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 23, 2010 [EBook #31750]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1><span class="smcap">Lippincott's Magazine</span></h1>
+
+<h4>OF</h4>
+
+<h2>POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.</h2>
+
+<h3>VOLUME XX.</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 120px;">
+<img src="images/image0001-1.jpg" width="120" height="250" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">PHILADELPHIA:<br />
+
+J. B. LIPPINCOTT AND CO.<br />
+
+1877.<br />
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by<br />
+
+J.B. LIPPINCOTT &amp; CO.,<br />
+
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap">Lippincott's Press</span>,<br />
+
+<i>Philadelphia</i>.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Abbeys and Castles</td><td align='left'><i>H. James, Jr.</i></td><td align='left'>434</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Day's March through Finland</td><td align='left'><i>David Ker</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Few Letters</td><td align='left'><i>E. C. Hewitt</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Great Day. From the Italian of Edmondo de Amicis</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>340</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Kentucky Duel</td><td align='left'><i>Will Wallace Harney</i></td><td align='left'>578, 738</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Law unto Herself</td><td align='left'><i>Rebecca Harding Davis</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_39">39</a>, 167, 292, 464, 614, 719</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Alfred de Musset</td><td align='left'><i>Sarah B. Wister</i></td><td align='left'>478</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Among the Kabyles (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Edward C. Bruce</i></td><td align='left'>265, 406</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Month in Sicily (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Alfred T. Bacon</i></td><td align='left'>649</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>An English Easter</td><td align='left'><i>Henry James, Jr.</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Paduan Holiday (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Charlotte Adams</i></td><td align='left'>278</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Portrait</td><td align='left'><i>Ita Aniol Prokop</i></td><td align='left'>698</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Summer Evening's Dream</td><td align='left'><i>Edward Bellamy</i></td><td align='left'>320</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Venetian of the Eighteenth Century</td><td align='left'><i>H. M. Benson</i></td><td align='left'>347</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Baden and Allerheiligen (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>T. Adolphus Trollope</i></td><td align='left'>535</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Brandywine, 1777</td><td align='left'><i>Howard M. Jenkins</i></td><td align='left'>329</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Captured by Cossacks. (<i>Illustrated.</i>)<br /> Extracts from Letters of a French Officer in 1813</td><td align='left'><i>Joseph Diss Debar</i></td><td align='left'>684</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ch&acirc;teau Courance</td><td align='left'><i>John V. Sears</i></td><td align='left'>235</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Chester and the Dee (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Lady Blanche Murphy</i></td><td align='left'>393, 521</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Communism in the United States</td><td align='left'><i>Austin Bierbower</i></td><td align='left'>501</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Days of my Youth</td><td align='left'><i>M. T.</i></td><td align='left'>712</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Down the Rhine (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Lady Blanche Murphy</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_9">9</a>, 137</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Edinburgh Jottings (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Alfred S. Gibbs</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>English Domestics and their Ways</td><td align='left'><i>Olive Logan</i></td><td align='left'>758</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Folk-Lore of the Southern Negroes</td><td align='left'><i>William Owens</i></td><td align='left'>748</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"For Percival." (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>416, 546, 665</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>In a Russian "Trakteer"</td><td align='left'><i>David Ker</i></td><td align='left'>247</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Irish Society in the Last Century</td><td align='left'><i>Eliza Wilson</i></td><td align='left'>183</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>L&eacute;onie Regnault: A Study from French Life</td><td align='left'><i>Mary E. Blair</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Little Lizay</td><td align='left'><i>Sarah Winter Kellogg</i></td><td align='left'>442</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>London at Midsummer</td><td align='left'><i>H. James, Jr.</i></td><td align='left'>603</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Madame Patterson-Bonaparte</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>309</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ouida's Novels</td><td align='left'><i>Thomas Sergeant Perry</i></td><td align='left'>732</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Our Blackbirds</td><td align='left'><i>Ernest Ingersoll</i></td><td align='left'>376</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"Our Jook"</td><td align='left'><i>Henrietta H. Holdich</i></td><td align='left'>494</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Primary and Secondary Education in France</td><td align='left'><i>C. H. Harding</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Some Last Words from Sainte-Beuve</td><td align='left'><i>Sarah B. Wister</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Bass of the Potomac</td><td align='left'><i>W. Mackay Laffan</i></td><td align='left'>455</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Chef's Beefsteak</td><td align='left'><i>Virginia W. Johnson</i></td><td align='left'>596</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Church of St. Sophia</td><td align='left'><i>Hugh Craig</i></td><td align='left'>629</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Doings and Goings-on of Hired Girls</td><td align='left'><i>Mary Dean</i></td><td align='left'>589</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Flight of a Princess</td><td align='left'><i>W. A. Baillie-Grohman</i></td><td align='left'>566</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Marquis of Lossie</td><td align='left'><i>George Macdonald</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_81">81</a>, 210, 355</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The New Soprano</td><td align='left'><i>Penn Shirley</i></td><td align='left'>249</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Paris Caf&eacute;s</td><td align='left'><i>Gilman C. Fisher</i></td><td align='left'>202</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Verona. (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Sarah B. Wister</i></td><td align='left'>155</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Vina's "Ole Man." (<i>Illustrated.</i>)</td><td align='left'><i>Lizzie W. Champney</i></td><td align='left'>194</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p>Literature of the Day, comprising Reviews of the following Works:</p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>Avery, Benjamin Parke&mdash;Californian Pictures in Prose and Verse</td><td align='left'>775</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Baker, M. A., James&mdash;Turkey</td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Burroughs, John&mdash;Birds and Poets</td><td align='left'>516</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Dodge, R. I.&mdash;The Plains of the Great West and their Inhabitants</td><td align='left'>262</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Doudan, X.&mdash;M&eacute;langes et Lettres</td><td align='left'>646</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Field, Marie E.&mdash;The Wings of Courage</td><td align='left'>776</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Gill, W. F.&mdash;The Life of Edgar Allan Poe</td><td align='left'>518</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Concourt, de, Edmond and Jules&mdash;Madame Gervaisais</td><td align='left'>388</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Gr&eacute;ville, Henry&mdash;Les Koumiassine</td><td align='left'>519</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hoffman, Wickham&mdash;Camp, Court and Siege</td><td align='left'>261</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Kismet</td><td align='left'>392</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>McCoan, J. C.&mdash;Egypt as it Is</td><td align='left'>774</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Mazade, de, Charles&mdash;The Life of Count Cavour</td><td align='left'>772</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Migerka, Catherine&mdash;Briefe aus Philadelphia (1876) an eine Freundin</td><td align='left'>643</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Nimport</td><td align='left'>642</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Parkman, Francis&mdash;Count Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV</td><td align='left'>641</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Price, Major Sir Rose Lambart&mdash;The Two Americas</td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Procter, Bryan Waller (Barry Cornwall)&mdash;An Autobiographical Fragment and Biographical Notes</td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Reid, T. Wemyss&mdash;Charlotte Bront&euml;</td><td align='left'>390</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Robinson, Leora B.&mdash;Patsy</td><td align='left'>776</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Sherwood, Mary Neal&mdash;Jack. From the French of Alphonse Daudet</td><td align='left'>645</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Squier, E. George&mdash;Peru</td><td align='left'>259</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Synge, W. W. Follett&mdash;Olivia Raleigh</td><td align='left'>518</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Wheaton, Campbell&mdash;Six Sinners; or, School-Days in Bantam Valley</td><td align='left'>776</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Our Monthly Gossip</span>, comprising the following Articles:</p>
+
+<p>A Cheering Sign, 258; A Crying Evil, 771; A Day at the Paris
+Conservatoire, 512; A Missing Item, 770; A Neglected Branch of
+Philology, 385; Another Defunct Monopoly, 386; Artistic Jenkinsism, 640;
+Brigham Young and Mormonism, 514; Fernan Caballero, 761; Foreign Leaders
+in Russia and Turkey, 765; Fran&ccedil;ois Buloz, 382; Friend Abner in the
+North-West, 254; How shall we Call the Birds? 256; Katerfelto in Repose,
+387; "Les Naufrag&eacute;s de Calais," 637; Miridite Courtship, 253; Notes from
+Moscow, 509; Punching the Drinks, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>; Realistic Art, 639; Russian and
+Turkish Music, 636; The Coming Elections in France, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>; The Dead of
+Paris, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>; The Departure of the Imperial Guards, 768; The Education of
+Women in India, 515; The Modern French Novelists, 379; The
+Nautch-Dancers of India, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>; The Octroi, 763; The Religious Struggle at
+Geneva, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>; Von Moltke in Turkey, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>; Water-Lilies, 384.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Poetry</span>:</p>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>A Wish</td><td align='left'><i>Henrietta R. Eliot</i></td><td align='left'>308</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fog</td><td align='left'><i>Emma Lazarus</i></td><td align='left'>207</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>For Another</td><td align='left'><i>S. M. B. Piatt</i></td><td align='left'>405</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>From the Flats</td><td align='left'><i>Sidney Lanier</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"God's Poor"</td><td align='left'><i>E. R. Champlin</i></td><td align='left'>711</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Heine (Buch der Lieder)</td><td align='left'><i>Charles Quiet</i></td><td align='left'>354</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Selim</td><td align='left'><i>Annie Porter</i></td><td align='left'>755</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Song</td><td align='left'><i>Oscar Laighton</i></td><td align='left'>545</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Sven Duva. From the Swedish of Johan Ludvig Runeberg</td><td align='left'><i>C. Rosell</i></td><td align='left'>611</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Bee</td><td align='left'><i>Sidney Lanier</i></td><td align='left'>493</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Chrysalis of a Bookworm</td><td align='left'><i>Maurice F. Egan</i></td><td align='left'>463</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Dream of St. Theresa</td><td align='left'><i>Epes Sargent</i></td><td align='left'>565</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Elixir</td><td align='left'><i>Emma Lazarus</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Marsh</td><td align='left'><i>S. Weir Mitchell</i></td><td align='left'>245</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Sweetener</td><td align='left'><i>Mary B. Dodge</i></td><td align='left'><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To Sleep</td><td align='left'><i>Emilie Poulsson</i></td><td align='left'>201</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+<h1><span class="smcap">Lippincott's Magazine</span></h1>
+
+<h4>OF</h4>
+
+<h2><i>POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3>JULY, 1877.</h3>
+
+<p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by <span class="smcap">J. B.
+Lippincott &amp; Co.</span>, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at
+Washington.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>DOWN THE RHINE.</h2>
+
+<h3>THIRD PAPER.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image0005-1.jpg" width="500" height="367" alt="EVENING CONCERT AT WIESBADEN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">EVENING CONCERT AT WIESBADEN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Wiesbaden (the "Meadow-Bath"), though an inland town, partakes of some
+of the Rhine characteristics, though even if it did not, its notoriety
+as a spa would be enough to make some mention of it necessary. Its
+promenade and Kurhaus, its society, evening concerts, alleys of
+beautiful plane trees, its frequent illuminations with Bengal lights,
+reddening the classic peristyles and fountains with which modern taste
+has decked the town, its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> airy Moorish pavilion over the springs, and
+its beautiful Greek chapel with fire-gilt domes, each surmounted by a
+double cross connected with the dome by gilt chains&mdash;a chapel built by
+the duke Adolph of Nassau in memory of his wife, Elizabeth Michaelovna,
+a Russian princess,&mdash;are things that almost every American traveler
+remembers, not to mention the Neroberger wine grown in the neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p>Schlangenbad, a less well-known bathing-place, is a favorite goal of
+Wiesbaden excursionists, for a path through dense beech woods leads from
+the stirring town to the quieter "woman's republic," where, before
+sovereigns in incognito came to patronize it, there had long been a
+monopoly of its charms by the wives and daughters of rich men, bankers,
+councilors, noblemen, etc., and also by a set of the higher clergy. The
+waters were famous for their sedative qualities, building up the nervous
+system, and, it is said, also beautifying the skin. Some credulous
+persons traced the name of the "Serpents' Bath" to the fact that snakes
+lurked in the springs and gave the waters their healing powers; but as
+the neighborhood abounds in a small harmless kind of reptile, this is
+the more obvious reason for the name. I spent a pleasant ten days at
+Schlangenbad twelve or thirteen years ago, when many of the German
+sovereigns preferred it for its quiet to the larger and noisier resorts,
+and remember with special pleasure meeting with fields of Scotch heather
+encircled by beech and chestnut woods, with ferny, rocky nooks such
+as&mdash;when it is in Germany that you find them&mdash;suggest fairies, and with
+a curious village church, just restored by a rich English Catholic,
+since dead, who lived in Brussels and devoted his fortune to religious
+purposes all over the world. This church was chiefly interesting as a
+specimen of what country churches were in the Middle Ages, having been
+restored in the style common to those days. It was entirely of stone,
+within as well as without, and I remember no painting on the walls. The
+"tabernacle," instead of being placed <i>on</i> the altar, as is the custom
+in most churches now, and has been for two or three hundred years, was,
+according to the old German custom, a separate shrine, with a little
+tapering carved spire, placed in the corner of the choir, with a red
+lamp burning before it. Here, as in most of the Rhine neighborhoods, the
+people are mainly Catholics, but in places where summer guests of all
+nations and religions are gathered there is often a friendly arrangement
+by which the same building is used for the services of two or three
+faiths. There was, I think, one such at Schlangenbad, where Catholic,
+Lutheran and Anglican services were successively held every Sunday
+morning; and in another place, where a large Catholic church has since
+been built, the old church was divided down the middle of the nave by a
+wooden partition about the height of a man's head, and Catholic and
+Protestant had each a side permanently assigned to them for their
+services. This kind of practical toleration, probably in the beginning
+the result of poverty on both sides, but at any rate creditable to its
+practicers, was hardly to be found anywhere outside of Germany. I
+remember hearing of the sisters of one of the pope's German prelates,
+Monsignor Prince Hohenlohe, who were Lutherans, embroidering
+ecclesiastical vestments and altar-linen for their brother with as much
+delight as if he and they believed alike; and (though this is anything
+but praiseworthy, for it was prompted by policy and not by toleration)
+it was a custom of the smaller German princes to bring their daughters
+up in the vaguest belief in vital truths, in order that when they
+married they might become whatever their husbands happened to be,
+whether Lutheran, Anglican, Catholic or Greek. The events of the last
+few years, however, have changed all this, and religious strife is as
+energetic in Germany as it was at one time in Italy: people must take
+sides, and this outward, easy-going old life has disappeared before the
+novel kind of persecution sanctioned by the Falk laws. Some persons even
+think the present state of things traceable to that same toleration,
+leading, as it did in many cases, to lukewarmness and indifferentism in
+religion. Strange phases for a fanatical Germany to pass through, and a
+stranger commentary on the words of Saint Remigius to Clovis, the first
+Frankish Christian king: "Burn that which thou hast worshiped, and
+worship that which thou hast burnt"!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0008-1.jpg" width="600" height="305" alt="PROMENADE AT WIESBADEN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PROMENADE AT WIESBADEN.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image0009-1.jpg" width="300" height="519" alt="LUTHER&#39;S HOUSE AT FRANKFORT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LUTHER&#39;S HOUSE AT FRANKFORT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Schwalbach is another of Wiesbaden's handmaidens&mdash;a pleasant, rather
+quiet spot, from which, if you please, you can follow the Main to the
+abode of sparkling hock or the vinehills of Hochheim, the property of
+the church which crowns the heights. This is at the entrance of the
+Roman-named Taunus Mountains, where there are bathing-places, ruined
+castles, ancient bridges, plenty of legends, and, above all, dark solemn
+old chestnut forests. But we have a long way to go, and must not linger
+on our road to the free imperial city of Frankfort, with its past
+history and present importance. Here too I have some personal
+remembrances, though hurried ones. The hotel itself&mdash;what a relief such
+hotels are from the modern ones with electric bells and elevators and
+fifteen stories!&mdash;was an old patrician house ample, roomy, dignified,
+and each room had some individuality, notwithstanding the needful amount
+of transformation from its old self. It was a dull, wet day when we
+arrived, and next morning we went to the cathedral, Pepin's foundation,
+of which I remember, however, less than of the great hall in the R&ouml;mer
+building where the Diets sat and where the "Golden Bull" is still
+kept&mdash;a hall now magnificently and appropriately frescoed with subjects
+from German history. Then the far-famed Judengasse, a street where the
+first Rothschild's mother lived till within a score of years ago, and
+where now, among the dark, crazy tenements, so delightful to the
+artist's eye, there glitters one of the most gorgeously-adorned
+synagogues in Europe. A change indeed from the times when Jews were
+hunted and hooted at in these proud, fanatical cities, which were not
+above robbing them and making use of them even while they jeered and
+persecuted! The great place in front of the emperor's hall was the
+appointed ground for tournaments, and as we lounge on we come to a queer
+house, with its lowest corner cut away and the oriel window above
+supported on one massive pillar: from that window tradition says that
+Luther addressed the people just before starting for Worms to meet the
+Diet. This other house has a more modern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> look: it is Goethe's
+birthplace, the house where the noted housekeeper and accomplished
+hostess, "<i>Frau Rath</i>"&mdash;or "Madam Councilor," as she was
+called&mdash;gathered round her those stately parties that are special to the
+great free cities of olden trade. Frankfort has not lost her reputation
+in this line: her merchants and civic functionaries still form an
+aristocracy, callings as well as fortunes are hereditary, and if some
+modern elements have crept in, they have not yet superseded the old. The
+regattas and boating-parties on the Main remind one of the stir on the
+banks of the Thames between Richmond and Twickenham, where so many "city
+men" have lovely retired homes; but Frankfort has its Kew Gardens also,
+where tropical flora, tree-ferns and palms, in immense conservatories,
+make perpetual summer, while the Zoological Garden and the bands that
+play there are another point of attraction. Still, I think one more
+willingly seeks the older parts&mdash;the Ashtree Gate, with its machicolated
+tower and turrets, the only remnants of the fortifications; the old
+cemetery, where Goethe's mother is buried; and the old bridge over the
+Main, with the statue of Charlemagne bearing the globe of empire in his
+hand, which an innocent countryman from the neighboring village of
+Sachsenhausen mistook for the man who invented the <i>Aeppelwei</i>, a
+favorite drink of Frankfort. This bridge has another curiosity&mdash;a gilt
+cock on an iron rod, commemorating the usual legend of the "first living
+thing" sent across to cheat the devil, who had extorted such a promise
+from the architect. But although the ancient remains are attractive, we
+must not forget the Bethmann Museum, with its treasure of Dannecker's
+<i>Ariadne</i>, and the St&auml;del Art Institute, both the legacies of
+public-spirited merchants to their native town; the Bourse, where a
+business hardly second to any in London is done; and the memory of so
+many great minds of modern times&mdash;B&ouml;rne, Brentano, Bettina von Arnim,
+Feurbach, Savigny, Schlossen, etc. The Roman remains at Ober&uuml;rzel in the
+neighborhood ought to have a chapter to themselves, forming as they do a
+miniature Pompeii, but the Rhine and its best scenery calls us away from
+its great tributary, and we already begin to feel the witchery which a
+popular poet has expressed in these lines, supposed to be a warning from
+a father to a wandering son:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To the Rhine, to the Rhine! go not to the Rhine! My son, I counsel thee well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there life is too sweet and too fine, and every breath is a spell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nixie calls to thee out of the flood; and if thou her smiles shouldst see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Lorelei, with her pale cold lips, then 'tis all over with thee:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For bewitched and delighted, yet seized with fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thy home is forgotten and mourners weep here.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image0010-1.jpg" width="300" height="451" alt="JOHN WOLFGANG GOETHE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">JOHN WOLFGANG GOETHE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;">
+<img src="images/image0011-1.jpg" width="392" height="500" alt="GOETHE&#39;S BIRTHPLACE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">GOETHE&#39;S BIRTHPLACE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This is the Rheingau, the most beautiful valley of rocks and bed of
+rapids which occurs during the whole course of the river&mdash;the region
+most crowded with legends and castles, and most frequented by strangers
+by railroad and steamboat. The right bank is at first the only one that
+calls for attention, dotted as it is with townlets, each nestled in
+orchards, gardens and vineyards, with a church and steeple, and terraces
+of odd, over-hanging houses; little stone arbors trellised with
+grapevines; great crosses and statues of patron saints in the warm,
+soft-toned red sandstone of the country; fishermen's taverns, with most
+of the business done outside under the trees or vine-covered piazza;
+little, busy wharfs and works, aping joyfully the bustle of large
+seaports, and succeeding in miniature; and perhaps a burgomaster's
+garden, where that portly and pleasant functionary does not disdain to
+keep a tavern and serve his customers himself, as at Walluf.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/image0012-1.jpg" width="310" height="500" alt="JUDENGASSE AT FRANKFORT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">JUDENGASSE AT FRANKFORT.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At Rauenthal (a "valley" placed on high hills) we find the last new
+claimant to the supremacy among Rhine wines, at least since the Paris
+Exhibition, when the medal of honor was awarded to Rauenthal, which has
+ended in bringing many hundreds of curious connoisseurs to test the
+merits of the grape where it grows. Now comes a whole host of villages
+on either side of the river, famous through their wines&mdash;Steinberg, the
+"golden beaker;" Scharfenstein, whose namesake castle was the refuge of
+the warlike archbishops of Mayence, the stumbling-block of the
+archbishops of Tr&egrave;ves, called "the Lion of Luxembourg," and lastly the
+prey of the terrible Swedes, who in German stories play the part of
+Cossacks and Bashi-Bazouks; Marcobrunnen, with its classical-looking
+ruin of a fountain hidden among vineyards; Hattenheim, Hallgarten,
+Gr&auml;fenberg; and Eberbach, formerly an abbey, known for its "cabinet"
+wine, the hall-mark of those times, and its legends of Saint Bernard,
+for whom a boar ploughed a circle with his tusks to show the spot where
+the saint should build a monastery, and afterward tossed great stones
+thither for the foundation, while angels helped to build the upper
+walls. Eberbach is rather deserted than ruined. It was a good deal
+shattered in the Peasants' War at the time of the Reformation, when the
+insurgents emptied the huge cask in which the whole of the Steinberg
+wine-harvest was stored; but since 1803, when it was made over to the
+neighboring wine-growers, it has remained pretty well unharmed; and its
+twelfth-century chapel, full of monuments; its refectory, now the
+press-house, with its columns and capitals nearly perfect; its cellars,
+where every year more wine is given away than is stored&mdash;<i>i. e.</i>, all
+that which is not "cabinet-worthy"&mdash;as in the tulip-mania, when
+thousands of roots were thrown away as worthless, which yet had all the
+natural merit of lovely coloring and form,&mdash;make Eberbach well worth
+seeing.</p>
+
+<p>Next comes Johannisberg, with its vineyards dating back to the tenth
+century, when Abbot Rabanus of Fulda cultivated the grape and Archbishop
+Ruthard of Mayence built a monastery, dedicated to Saint John the
+Baptist, which for centuries was owner and guardian of the most noted
+Rhine vintage; but abuses within and wars without have made an end of
+this state of things, and Albert of Brandenburg's raid on the monks'
+cellars has been more steadily supplemented by the pressure of milder
+but no less efficient means of destruction. When Napoleon saw this tract
+of land and offered it to General Kellermann, who had admired its
+beauty, he is said to have received a worthy and a bold answer. "I thank
+Your Majesty," said the marshal, "but the receiver is as bad as the
+thief." The less scrupulous Metternich became its owner, giving for it,
+however, an equivalent of arable and wood land. The Metternich who for
+years was Austrian ambassador at Paris during the brilliant time of the
+Second Empire, and whose fast and eccentric wife daily astonished
+society, is now owner of the peerless Johannisberg vineyards, among
+which is his country-house. Goethe's friends, the Lade and Brentano
+families, lived in this neighborhood, and the historian Nicholas Vogt
+lies buried in the Metternich chapel, though his heart, by his special
+desire, is laid in a silver casket within the rocks of Bingen, with a
+little iron cross marking the spot. At Geisenheim we are near two
+convents which as early as 1468 had printing-presses in active use, and
+the mysterious square tower of R&uuml;desheim, which brings all sorts of
+suppositions to our mind, though the beauty of the wayside crosses, the
+tall gabled roofs, the crumbling walls, the fantastically-shaped rocks,
+getting higher and higher on each side, and the perpetual winding of the
+river, are enough to keep the eye fixed on the mere landscape. At the
+windows, balconies and arbors sit pretty, ruddy girls waving their
+handkerchiefs to the unknown "men and brethren" on board the steamers
+and the trains; and well they may, if this be a good omen, for here is
+the "Iron Gate" of the Rhine, and the water bubbles and froths in
+miniature whirlpools as we near what is called the "Bingen Hole."</p>
+
+<p>As we have passed the mouth of the Stein and recollected the rhyme of
+Schr&ouml;dter in his <i>King Wine's Triumph</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0015-1.jpg" width="600" height="326" alt="R&Uuml;DESHEIM." title="" />
+<span class="caption">R&Uuml;DESHEIM.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wreath&egrave;d in vines and crown&egrave;d with reeds comes the Rhine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at his side with merry dance comes the Main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the third with his steady steps is all of stone (Stein),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And both Main and Stein are prime ministers to the Lord Rhine&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>so now we peer up one of the clefts in the rocks and see the Nahe
+ploughing its way along to meet the great river. Just commanding the
+mouth is Klopp Castle, and not far warlike Bingen, a rich burgher-city,
+plundered and half destroyed in every war from those of the fourteenth
+to those of the eighteenth century, while Klopp too claims to have been
+battered and bruised even in the thirteenth century, but is better known
+as the scene of the emperor Henry IV.'s betrayal to the Church
+authorities by his son, who treacherously invited him to visit him here
+by night. A little way up the river Nahe, where the character of the
+people changes from the lightheartedness of the Rhine proper to a
+steadiness and earnestness somewhat in keeping with the sterner and more
+mountainous aspect of the country, is Kreuznach, (or "Crossnear"), now a
+bathing-resort, and once a village founded by the first Christian
+missionaries round the first cross under whose shadow they preached the
+gospel. Sponheim Castle, once the abode of Trithemius, or Abbot John of
+Trittenheim, a famous chronicler and scholar, reminds us of the brave
+butcher of Kreuznach, Michael Mort, whose faithfulness to his lawful
+lord when beset by pretenders to his title in his own family won for the
+guild of butchers certain privileges which they have retained ever
+since; and Rheingrafenstein, where the ruins are hardly distinguishable
+from the tossed masses of porphyry rock on which they are perched, tells
+us the story of Boos von Waldeck's wager with the lord of the castle to
+drink a courier's top-boot full of Rhine wine at one draught&mdash;a feat
+which he is said to have successfully accomplished, making himself
+surely a fit companion for Odin in Walhalla; but his reward on earth was
+more substantial, for he won thereby the village of H&uuml;ffelsheim and all
+its belongings. In a less romantic situation stands Ebernburg, so called
+from the boar which during a siege the hungry but indomitable defenders
+of the castle paraded again and again before the eyes of the besiegers,
+whose only hope lay in starving out the garrison&mdash;the property of the
+Sickengens, whose ancestor Franz played a prominent part in the
+Reformation and gave an asylum in these very halls to Bucer,
+Melanchthon, &OElig;colampadius and Ulrich von H&uuml;tten. Past Rothenfels,
+where towering rocks hem in the stream, like the Wye banks in Arthur's
+country on the Welsh borders; the scattered stones of Disibodenberg, the
+Irish missionary's namesake convent, which afterward passed into the
+hands of the Cistercians; Dhaum Castle and Oberstein Church, these two
+with their legends, the first accounting for a bas-relief in the great
+hall representing an ape rocking a child, the heir of the house, in the
+depths of a forest, and giving him an apple to eat,&mdash;we come to a
+cluster of castles which are the classical ground of the Nahe Valley.
+The very rocks seem not only crowned but honeycombed with buildings:
+chapels stand on jutting crags; houses, heaped as it were one on the
+roof of the other, climb up their rough sides, and the roofs themselves
+have taken their cue from the rocks, and have three or four irregular
+lines of tiny windows ridging and bulging them out.</p>
+
+<p>Taking boat again at Bingen, and getting safely through the Rhine "Hell
+Gate," the "Hole," whose terrors seem as poetic as those of the Lorelei,
+we pass the famous Mouse Tower, and opposite it the ruined Ehrenfels;
+Assmanshausen, with its dark-colored wine and its custom of a May or
+Pentecost feast, when thousands of merry Rhinelanders spend the day in
+the woods, dancing, drinking and singing, baskets outspread in modified
+and dainty pic-nic fashion, torches lit at night and bands playing or
+mighty choruses resounding through the woods; St. Clement's Chapel, just
+curtained from the river by a grove of old poplars and overshadowed by a
+ruin with a hundred eyes (or windows), while among the thickly-planted,
+crooked crosses of its churchyard old peasant-women and children run or
+totter, the first telling their beads, the second gathering flowers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+and none perhaps remembering that the chapel was built by the survivors
+of the families of the robber-knights of Rheinstein (one of the
+loveliest of Rhine ruins) and three other confederated castles, whom
+Rudolph of Habsburg treated, rightly enough, according to the Lynch law
+of his time. They were hung wherever found, but their pious relations
+did not forget to bury them and atone for them as seemingly as might be.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/image0018-1.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="BINGEN, FROM KLOPP CASTLE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">BINGEN, FROM KLOPP CASTLE.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bacharach, if it were not famed in Germany for its wine, according to
+the old rhyme declaring that</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At W&uuml;rzburg on the Stein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Hochheim on the Main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Bacharach on the Rhine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There grows the best of wine,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>would or ought to be noticed for its wealth of old houses and its many
+architectural beauties, from the ruined (or rather unfinished) chapel of
+St. Werner, now a wine-press house, bowered in trees and surrounded by a
+later growth of crosses and tombstones, to the meanest little house
+crowding its neighbor that it may bathe its doorstep in the
+river&mdash;houses that when their owners built and patched them from
+generation to generation little dreamt that they would stand and draw
+the artist's eye when the castle was in ruins. Similarly, the many
+serious historical incidents that took place in Bacharach have lived
+less long in the memory of inhabitants and visitors than the love-story
+connected with the ruined castle&mdash;that of Agnes, the daughter of the
+count of this place and niece of the great Barbarossa, whom her father
+shut up here with her mother to be out of the way of her lover, Henry of
+Braunschweig. The latter, a Guelph (while the count was a Ghibelline),
+managed, however, to defeat the father's plans: the mother helped the
+lovers, and a priest was smuggled into the castle to perform the
+marriage, which the father, after a useless outburst of rage, wisely
+acknowledged as valid. The coloring of many buildings in this part of
+the Rhineland is very beautiful, the red sandstone of the neighborhood
+being one of the most picturesque of building materials. Statues and
+crosses, as well as churches and castles, are built of it, and even the
+rocks have so appealed by their formation to the imagination of the
+people that at Sch&ouml;nburg we meet with a legend of seven sisters,
+daughters of that family whose hero, Marshal Schomburg, the friend and
+right hand of William of Orange, lies buried in Westminster Abbey,
+honored as marshal of France, peer of Great Britain and grandee of
+Portugal, and who, for their haughtiness toward their lovers, were
+turned into seven rocks, through part of which now runs the irreverent
+steam-engine, ploughing through the tunnel that cuts off a corner where
+the river bends again.</p>
+
+<p>Now comes the gray rock where, as all the world knows, the Lorelei
+lives, but as that graceful myth is familiar to all, we will hurry past
+the mermaid's home, where so much salmon used to be caught that the very
+servants of the neighboring monastery of St. Goar were forbidden to eat
+salmon more than three times a week, to go and take a glimpse of St.
+Goarshausen, with its convent founded in the seventh century by one of
+the first Celtic missionaries, and its legend of the spider who remedied
+the carelessness of the brother cellarer when he left the bung out of
+Charlemagne's great wine-cask by quickly spinning across the opening a
+web thick enough to stop the flow of wine. A curious relic of olden time
+and humor is shown in the cellar&mdash;an iron collar, grim-looking, but more
+innocent than its looks, for it was used only to pin the unwary visitor
+to the wall while a choice between a "baptism" of water and wine was
+given him. The custom dates back to Charlemagne's time. Those who,
+thinking to choose the least evil of the two, gave their voice for the
+water, had an ample and unexpected shower-bath, while the wine-drinkers
+were crowned with some tinseled wreath and given a large tankard to
+empty. On the heights above the convent stood the "Cat" watching the
+"Mouse" on the opposite bank above Wellmich, the two names commemorating
+an insolent message sent by Count John III. of the castle of
+Neu-Katzellenbogen to Archbishop Kuno of Falkenstein, the builder of the
+castle of Thurnberg, "that he greeted him and hoped he would take good
+care of his mouse, that his (John's) cat might not eat it up." And now
+we pass a chain of castles, ruins and villages; rocks with such names as
+the Prince's Head; lead, copper and silver works, with all the activity
+of modern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> life, stuck on like a puppet-show to the background of a
+solemn old picture, a rocky, solitary island, "The Two Brothers," the
+twin castles of Liebenstein and Sternberg, the same which Bulwer has
+immortalized in his <i>Pilgrims of the Rhine</i>, and at their feet, close to
+the shore, a modern-looking building, the former Redemptorist convent of
+Bornhofen. As we step out there is a rude quay, four large old trees and
+a wall with a pinnacled niche, and then we meet a boatful of pilgrims
+with their banners, for this is one of the shrines that are still
+frequented, notwithstanding many difficulties&mdash;notwithstanding that the
+priests were driven out of the convent some time ago, and that the place
+is in lay hands; not, however, unfriendly hands, for a Catholic German
+nobleman, married<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> to a Scotch woman, bought the house and church, and
+endeavored, as under the shield of "private property," to preserve it
+for the use of the Catholic population of the neighborhood. Last summer
+an English Catholic family rented the house, and a comfortable home was
+established in the large, bare building attached to the church, where is
+still kept the <i>Gnadenbild</i>, or "Grace image," which is the object of
+the pilgrimage&mdash;a figure of the Blessed Virgin holding her dead Son upon
+her knees. These English tenants brought a private chaplain with them,
+but, despite their privileges as English subjects, I believe there was
+some trouble with the government authorities. However, they had mass
+said for them at first in the church on weekdays. A priest from Camp,
+the neighboring post-town, was allowed to come once in a week to say
+mass for the people, but with locked doors, and on other days the
+service was also held in the same way, though a few of the
+country-people always managed to get in quietly before the doors were
+shut. On Sundays mass was said for the strangers and their household
+only in a little oratory up in the attics, which had a window looking
+into the church near the roof of the chancel. One of them describes "our
+drawing-room in the corner of the top floor, overlooking the river," and
+"our life ... studying German, reading and writing in the morning, dining
+early, walking out in the evening, tea-supper when we come home....
+There are such pretty walks in the ravines and hills, in woods and
+vineyards, and to the castles above and higher hills beyond! We brought
+one man and a maid, who do not know German, and found two German
+servants in the house, who do everything.... It is curious how cheaply
+we live here; the German cook left here does everything for us, and we
+are saying she makes us much better soups and omelettes and souffles
+than any London cook." Now, as these three things happen to be special
+tests of a cook's skill, this praise from an Englishman should somewhat
+rebuke travelers who can find no word too vile for "German cookery."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image0021-1.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt="RHEINGRAFENSTEIN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">RHEINGRAFENSTEIN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The time of the yearly pilgrimage came round during the stay of these
+strangers, "and pilgrims came from Coblenz, a four hours' walk (in
+mid-August and the temperature constantly in the nineties), on the
+opposite side of the river, singing and chanting as they came, and
+crossed the river here in boats. High mass was at half-past nine (in the
+morning) and benediction at half-past one, immediately after which they
+returned in boats down the stream much more quickly. The day before was
+a more local pilgrimage: mass and benediction were at eight, but
+pilgrims came about all the morning." Later on, when the great heat had
+brought "premature autumn tints to the trees and burnt up the grass,"
+the English family made some excursions in the neighborhood, and in one
+place they came to a "forest and a large tract of tall trees," but this
+was exceptional, as the soil is not deep enough to grow large timber,
+and the woods are chiefly low underwood. The grapes were small, and on
+the 22d of August they tasted the first plateful at Stolzenfels, an old
+castle restored by the queen-dowager of Prussia, and now the property of
+the empress of Germany. "The view from it is lovely up and down the
+river, and the situation splendid&mdash;about four hundred feet above the
+river, with high wooded hills behind, just opposite the Lahn where it
+falls into the Rhine." Wolfgang M&uuml;ller describes Stolzenfels as a
+beautiful specimen of the old German style, with a broad smooth road
+leading up over drawbridges and moats, with mullioned windows and
+machicolated towers, and an artistic open staircase intersected by three
+pointed arches, and looking into an inner courtyard, with a fountain
+surrounded by broad-leaved tropical water-plants. The sight of a
+combination of antique dignity with correct modern taste is a delight so
+seldom experienced that it is worth while dwelling on this pleasant fact
+as brought out in the restoration of Stolzenfels, the "Proud Rock." And
+that the Rhinelanders are proud of their river is no wonder when
+strangers can talk about it thus: "The Rhine is a river which grows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+upon you, living in a pretty part of its course:... its less beauteous
+parts have their own attractions to the natives, and its beauties,
+perhaps exaggerated, unfold greatly the more you explore them, not to be
+seen by a rushing tourist up and down the stream by rail or by boat, but
+sought out and contemplated from its heights and windings.... In fact,
+the pretty part of its course is from Bingen to Bonn. Here we are in a
+wonderfully winding gorge, containing nearly all its picturesque old
+castles, uninterrupted by any flat. The stream is rapid enough, four
+miles an hour or more&mdash;not equal to the Rhone at Geneva, but like that
+river in France. One does not wonder at the Germans being enthusiastic
+over their river, as the Romans were over the yellow Tiber."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 332px;">
+<img src="images/image0024-1.jpg" width="332" height="500" alt="MOUSE-TOWER (OR BISHOP HATTO&#39;S TOWER) AND EHRENFELS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MOUSE-TOWER (OR BISHOP HATTO&#39;S TOWER) AND EHRENFELS.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/image0025-1.jpg" width="411" height="500" alt="THE LORELEI ROCK." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE LORELEI ROCK.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Other excursions were made by the Bornhofen visitors, one up a hill on
+the opposite side, over sixteen hundred feet high, whence a fine distant
+view of the Mosel Valley was seen, and one also to the church of St.
+Apollinaris, at Remagen, at some distance down the river, where are
+"some fine frescoes by German<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> artists covering the whole interior of
+the church. One artist painted four or five large ones of the
+Crucifixion, Resurrection and other events relating to the life of Our
+Lord; a second several of the life of St. Apollinaris, and two others
+some of Our Lady and various saints, one set being patron saints of the
+founder's children, whom I think we saw at Baden&mdash;Carl Egon, Count
+F&uuml;rstenberg-Stammheim.... The family-house stands close to the church,
+or one of his houses, and seems to have been made into a Franciscan
+convent: the monks are now banished and the church deserted, a <i>custode</i>
+(guardian) in charge. We went one day to Limburg to see the bishop of
+this diocese, a dear old man who only speaks German, so E&mdash;&mdash; and
+C&mdash;&mdash; carried on all the conversation. The cathedral is a fine old Norman
+building with seven towers: it is undergoing restoration, and the
+remains of old frescoes under the whitewash are the ground-work of
+renewed ones. Where an old bit is perfect enough it is left."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 255px;">
+<img src="images/image0026-1.jpg" width="255" height="450" alt="A STREET IN LIMBURG." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A STREET IN LIMBURG.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Camp, a mile from Bornhofen, is an insignificant place enough, but
+claiming to have been a Roman camp, and having an old convent as
+picturesque as those of far-famed and much-visited towns. The same
+irregular windows, roofed turrets springing up by the side of tall
+gables, a corner-shrine of Our Lady and Child, with vines and ivy making
+a niche for it, mossy steps, a broken wall with trailing vines and steep
+stone-roofed recess, probably an old niche,&mdash;such is a sketch of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> what
+would make a thoroughly good picture; but in this land there are so many
+such that one grows too familiar with them to care for the sight. Nearly
+opposite is Boppard, a busy ancient town, with a parish church beautiful
+enough for a cathedral&mdash;St. Severin's church, with carved choir-stalls
+and a double nave&mdash;and the old Benedictine monastery for women, now a
+cold-water cure establishment. Boppard has its legend of a shadowy
+Templar and a faithless bridegroom challenged by the former, who turned
+out to be the forsaken bride herself; but of these legends, one so like
+the other, this part of the Rhine is full. The next winding of the
+stream shows us Oberspay, with a romantic tavern, carved pillars
+supporting a windowed porch, and a sprawling kind of roof; the "King's
+Stool," a modern restoration of the medi&aelig;val pulpit or platform of stone
+supported by pillars, with eighteen steps and a circumference of forty
+ells, where the Rhenish prince-archbishops met to choose the temporal
+sovereigns who were in part their vassals; Oberlahnstein, a town famous
+for its possession in perfect repair of the ancient fortifications;
+Lahneck, now a private residence, once the property of the Templars;
+Stolzenfels, of which we have anticipated a glimpse; the island of
+Oberw&ouml;rth, with an old convent of St. Magdalen, and in the distance
+frowning Ehrenbreitstein, the fortress of Coblenz.</p>
+
+<p>Turning up the course of the Lahn, we get to the neighborhood of a small
+but famous bathing-place, Ems, the cradle of the Franco-Prussian war,
+where the house in which Emperor William lodged is now shown as an
+historic memento, and effaces the interest due to the old gambling
+Kursaal. The English chapel, a beautiful small stone building already
+ivied; the old synagogue, a plain whitewashed building, where the
+service is conducted in an orthodox but not very attractive manner; the
+pretty fern- and heather-covered woods, through which you ride on
+donkeyback; the gardens, where a Parisian-dressed crowd airs itself late
+in the afternoon; all the well-known adjuncts of a spa, and the most
+delightful baths I ever saw, where in clean little chambers you step
+down three steps into an ample marble basin sunk in the floor, and may
+almost fancy yourself a luxurious Roman of the days of Diocletian,&mdash;such
+is Ems. But its environs are full of wider interest. There is Castle
+Schaumburg, where for twenty years the archduke Stephen of Austria,
+palatine of Hungary, led a useful and retired life, making his house as
+orderly and seemly as an English manor-house, and more interesting to
+the strangers, whose visits he encouraged, by the collections of
+minerals, plants, shells and stuffed animals and the miniature
+zoological and botanical gardens which he kept up and often added to. I
+spent a day there thirteen years ago, ten years before he died, lamented
+by his poor neighbors, to whom he was a visible providence. Another
+house of great interest is the old Stein mansion in the little town of
+Nassau, the home of the upright and patriotic minister of that name,
+whose memory is a household word in Germany. The present house is a
+comfortable modern one&mdash;a <i>ch&acirc;teau</i> in the French sense of the word&mdash;but
+the old shattered tower above the town is the cradle of the family. At
+the village of Fr&uuml;cht is the family-vault and the great man's monument,
+a modern Gothic canopy, somewhat bald and characterless, but bearing a
+fine statue of Stein by Schwanthaler, and an inscription in praise of
+the "unbending son of bowed-down Fatherland." He came of a good stock,
+for thus runs his father's funeral inscription, in five alliterative
+German rhymes. I can give it but lamely:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His nay was nay, and steady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His yea was yea, and ready:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of his promise ever mindful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lips his conscience ne'er belied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his word was bond and seal.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Stein was born in the house where he retired to spend his last years in
+study: his grave and pious nature is shown in the mottoes with which he
+adorned his home: "A tower of strength is our God" over the house-door,
+and in his library, above his books and busts and gathering of
+life-memorials, "Confidence in God, singleness of mind and
+righteousness."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> His contemporaries called him, in a play upon his name
+which, as such things go, was not bad, "The foundation-<i>stone</i> of right,
+the stumbling-<i>stone</i> of the wicked, and the precious <i>stone</i> of
+Germany." Arnstein and its old convent, now occupied by a solitary
+priest: Balduinenstein and its rough-hewn, cyclopean-looking ruin,
+standing over the mossy picturesque water-mill; the marble-quarries near
+Schaumburg, worked by convicts; Diez and its conglomeration of houses
+like a puzzle endowed with life,&mdash;are all on the way to Limburg, the
+episcopal town, old and tortuous, sleepy and alluring, with its shady
+streets, its cathedral of St. George and its monument of the
+lion-hearted Conrad or Kuno, surnamed Shortbold (Kurzbold), a nephew of
+Emperor Conrad, a genuine woman-hater, a man of giant strength but
+dwarfish height, who is said to have once strangled a lion, and at
+another time sunk a boatful of men with one blow of his spear. The
+cathedral, the same visited by our Bornhofen friends, has other
+treasures&mdash;carved stalls and a magnificent image of Our Lord of the
+sixteenth century, a Gothic baptismal font and a richly-sculptured
+tabernacle, as well as a much older image of <i>St. George and the
+Dragon</i>, supposed by some to refer to the legendary existence of
+monsters in the days when Limburg was heathen. Some such idea seems also
+not to have been remote from the fancy of the medi&aelig;val sculptor who
+adorned the brave Conrad's monument with such elaborately monstrous
+figures: it was evidently no lack of skill and delicacy that dictated
+such a choice of supporters, for the figure of the hero is lifelike,
+dignified and faithful to the minute description of his features and
+stature left us by his chronicler, while the beauty of the leaf-border
+of the slab and of the capitals of the short pillars is such as to
+excite the envy of our best modern carvers.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image0029-1.jpg" width="325" height="450" alt="CONRAD&#39;S MONUMENT, LIMBURG CATHEDRAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CONRAD&#39;S MONUMENT, LIMBURG CATHEDRAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Lady Blanche Murphy.</span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+<h2>EDINBURGH JOTTINGS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Whenever Scott's landau went up the Canongate, his coachman knew without
+special instructions that the pace must be a walk; and no funeral, says
+Lockhart, ever moved more slowly, for wherever the great enthusiast
+might turn his gaze there was recalled to his mind some tradition of
+blood and mystery at which his eye would sparkle and his cheek glow. How
+by the force of his genius he inoculated the world with his enthusiasm
+about the semi-savage Scotia of the past is a well-known story:
+thousands of tourists, more or less struck with the Scott madness,
+yearly wander through the streets of old Edinburgh; and although within
+the quarter of a century since Sir Walter's death many memorials of the
+past have been swept away under the pressure of utility or necessity,
+the Old Town still poses remarkably well, and, gathering her rags and
+tatters about her, contrives to keep up a strikingly picturesque
+appearance.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0030-1.jpg" width="600" height="369" alt="THE CASTLE AND ALLAN RAMSAY&#39;S HOUSE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE CASTLE AND ALLAN RAMSAY&#39;S HOUSE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Old Town of Edinburgh is built upon a wedge-shaped hill, the Castle
+occupying the highest point, the head of the wedge, and the town
+extending along the crest, which slopes gradually down toward the east,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+to Holyrood Palace in the plain. Lawnmarket, High street and Canongate
+now form one continuous street, which, running along the crest of the
+hill, may be considered as the backbone of the town, with wynds and
+closes radiating on each side like the spines of the vertebr&aelig;. The
+closes are courts, culs-de-sac&mdash;the wynds, thoroughfares. These
+streets&mdash;courts where, in the past, lived the nobility and gentry of
+Edinburgh&mdash;are now, for the most part, given up to squalor and misery,
+and look like stage-scenes perpetually "set" for melodramatic horrors.
+The late Dr. Thomas Guthrie, whose parish included a large portion of
+this Egypt, used often to illustrate his eloquence with graphic
+word-pictures suggested by his experiences in these dark places. "The
+unfurnished floor," he writes, "the begrimed and naked walls, the
+stifling, sickening atmosphere, the patched and dusty window&mdash;through
+which a sunbeam, like hope, is faintly stealing&mdash;the ragged,
+hunger-bitten and sad-faced children, the ruffian man, the heap of straw
+where some wretched mother in muttering dreams sleeps off last night's
+debauch or lies unshrouded and uncoffined in the ghastliness of a
+hopeless death, are sad scenes. We have often looked on them, and they
+appear all the sadder for the restless play of fancy excited by some
+vestiges of a fresco-painting that still looks out from the foul and
+broken plaster, the massive marble rising over the cold and cracked
+hearthstone, an elaborately-carved cornice too high for shivering cold
+to pull it down for fuel, some stucco flowers or fruit yet pendent on
+the crumbling ceiling. Fancy, kindled by these, calls up the gay scenes
+and actors of other days, when beauty, elegance and fashion graced these
+lonely halls, and plenty smoked on groaning tables, and where these few
+cinders, gathered from the city dustheap, are feebly smouldering,
+hospitable fires roared up the chimney."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 219px;">
+<img src="images/image32.jpg" width="309" height="500" alt="OLD EDINBURGH BY NIGHT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">OLD EDINBURGH BY NIGHT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>These houses are built upon the "flat" system, some of the better ones
+having a court in the centre like French houses, and turrets at the
+corners for the circular staircases connecting the different flats.
+Fires and improvements are rapidly sweeping them away, and the traveler
+regrets or not their disappearance, according as his views may be
+sentimental or sanitarian. They are truly ill adapted to modern ideas of
+hygiene, or to those cunning modern devices which sometimes poison their
+very inventors. While we may smile at our ancestors' free and easy way
+of pitching things out of the window, we should at least remember that
+they knew nothing of the modern plague of sewer-gas stealing its
+insidious way into the apparently best-regulated households. But without
+entering upon the vexed question of hygiene, the fact is that where
+there is no reason for propping up a tottering roof except that it once
+sheltered some bloody, cattle-stealing chieftain of the Border,
+utilitarian sentiments carry the day; nor ought any enthusiast to deny
+that the heart-shaped figure on the High street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> pavement, marking the
+spot where the Heart of Mid Lothian once stood, is a more cheerful sight
+than would be presented by the foul walls of that romantic jail.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;">
+<img src="images/image0033-1.jpg" width="309" height="500" alt="RIDDLE&#39;S CLOSE, WHERE HUME COMMENCED HIS &quot;HISTORY OF
+ENGLAND.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">RIDDLE&#39;S CLOSE, WHERE HUME COMMENCED HIS &quot;HISTORY OF
+ENGLAND.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The modes of life in old Edinburgh have been amply illustrated by many
+writers. Among the novel-writers, Scott and Miss Ferrier have especially
+dwelt upon them. The tavern-haunting habits of the gentlemen are
+pleasantly depicted in the "high jinks" in <i>Guy Mannering</i>, and the
+depth of potations may be estimated by Burns's "Song of the Whistle." As
+to the ladies, we should not have found their assemblies very hilarious,
+where partners for the dance were obtained by drawing tickets, and the
+lucky or unlucky swain danced one solemn minuet with his lady, and was
+not expected to quit her side during the evening&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Through a long night to watch fair Delia's will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same dull swain was at her elbow still.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The huge stack of buildings called James's Court is associated with the
+names of Boswell and of Hume. Half of it has been destroyed by fire,
+and precisely that half in which these two worthies once dwelt, but
+there is quite enough of it left to show what a grim monster it was,
+and, for that matter, still is. In Boswell's time it was a fine thing to
+have a flat in James's Court. Here Boswell was living when Dr. Johnson
+came to visit him. Boswell, having received a note from Johnson
+announcing his arrival, hastened to the inn, where he found the great
+man had just thrown his lemonade out of the window, and had nearly
+knocked down the waiter for sweetening the said lemonade without the aid
+of the sugar-tongs.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Johnson and I walked arm-in-arm up the High street," says Boswell,
+"to my house in James's Court: it was a dusky night: I could not prevent
+his being assailed by the evening effluvia of Edinburgh. As we marched
+slowly along he grumbled in my ear, 'I smell you in the dark.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Boswell had never seen Johnson before, and was by no means charmed
+with him, as Johnson was not slow to discover. In a matrimonial aside
+she whispered to her husband, "I have seen many a bear led by a man, but
+I never before saw a man led by a bear." No doubt her provocations were
+great, and she wins the compassionate sympathy of all good housekeepers
+when they read of Ursa Major brightening up the candles by turning the
+melted wax out on the carpet.</p>
+
+<p>Many years after this, but while Boswell was still living in James's
+Court, a lad named Francis Jeffrey one night helped to carry the great
+biographer home&mdash;a circumstance in the life of a gentleman much more of
+an every-day or every-night affair at that time than at present. The
+next day Boswell patted the lad on the head, and kindly added, "If you
+go on as you have begun, you may live to be a Bozzy yourself yet."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger who enters what is apparently the ground-floor of one of
+these houses on the north side of High street is often surprised to find
+himself, without having gone up stairs, looking from a fourth-story
+window in the rear. This is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> due to the steep slope on which the houses
+stand, and gives them the command of a beautiful view, including the New
+Town, and extending across the Firth of Forth to the varied shores of
+Fife. From his flat in James's Court we find David Hume, after his
+return from France, writing to Adam Smith, then busy at Kirkcaldy about
+the <i>Wealth of Nations</i>, "I am glad to have come within sight of you,
+and to have a view of Kirkcaldy from my windows."</p>
+
+<p>Another feature of these houses is the little cells designed for
+oratories or praying-closets, to which the master of the house was
+supposed to retire for his devotions, in literal accordance with the
+gospel injunction. David Hume's flat had two of these, for the spiritual
+was relatively better cared for than the temporal in those days: plenty
+of praying-closets, but <i>no drains</i>! This difficulty was got over by
+making it lawful for householders, after ten o'clock at night, to throw
+superfluous material out of the window&mdash;a cheerful outlook for Boswell
+and others being "carried home"!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;">
+<img src="images/image0035-1.jpg" width="388" height="500" alt="BUCCLEUGH PLACE, WHERE THE &quot;EDINBURGH REVIEW&quot; WAS
+PROJECTED." title="" />
+<span class="caption">BUCCLEUGH PLACE, WHERE THE &quot;EDINBURGH REVIEW&quot; WAS
+PROJECTED.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;">
+<img src="images/image0036-1.jpg" width="304" height="450" alt="COLLEGE WYND, WHERE SCOTT WAS BORN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COLLEGE WYND, WHERE SCOTT WAS BORN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At the bottom of Byre's Close a house is pointed out where Oliver
+Cromwell stayed, and had the advantage of contemplating from its lofty
+roof the fleet which awaited his orders in the Forth. The same house was
+once occupied by Bothwell, bishop of Orkney, and is associated with the
+memory of Anne, the bishop's daughter, whose sorrows are enbalmed in
+plaintive beauty in the old cradle-song:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Baloo,<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> my boy, lie still and sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It grieves me sair to see thee weep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thou'lt be silent, I'll be glad;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy mourning makes my heart full sad.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy father bred me great annoy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Baloo, my boy, weep not for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose greatest grief's for wranging thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor pity her deserv&egrave;d smart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who can blame none but her fond heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For too soon trusting latest finds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fairest tongues are falsest minds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When he began to court my love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with his sugared words to move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His tempting face and flutt'ring cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In time to me did not appear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now I see that cruel he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cares neither for his babe nor me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Baloo, my boy, thy father's fled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he the thriftless son has played:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of vows and oaths forgetful, he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Preferred the wars to thee and me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now perhaps thy curse and mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes him eat acorns with the swine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nay, curse not him: perhaps now he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stung with remorse, is blessing thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps at death, for who can tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the great Judge of heaven and hell,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">By some proud foe has struck the blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laid the dear deceiver<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wish I were into the bounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he lies smother'd in his wounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Repeating, as he pants for air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My name, whom once he call'd his fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No woman's yet so fiercely set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she'll forgive, though not forget.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Baloo, Baloo, etc.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px;">
+<img src="images/image0037-1.jpg" width="363" height="500" alt="ANCHOR CLOSE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">ANCHOR CLOSE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The tourist finds much to read, as he runs through old Edinburgh, in the
+mottoes on the house-fronts. These are mostly of a scriptural and devout
+character, such as: "Blissit.Be.God.In.Al.His.Giftis;" or,
+"Blissit.Be.The.Lord.In.His.Giftis.For.Nov.And.Ever." If he peeps into
+Anchor Close, where once was a famous tavern, he will find it entirely
+occupied by the buildings of the <i>Scotsman</i> newspaper, but the
+mottoes have been carefully preserved and built into the walls. The
+first is, "The.Lord. Is.Only.My.Svport;" a little farther on,
+"O.Lord.In.The.Is.Al.My.Traist;" and over the door,
+"Lord.Be.Merciful.To.Me." On other houses he may read,
+"Feare.The.Lord.And.Depart.From.Evill;" "Faith.In.Chryst.Onlie.Savit;"
+"My.Hoip.Is.Chryst;" "What.Ever.Me.Befall.I.Thank.The.Lord.Of.All."
+There are also many in the Latin tongue, such as, "Lavs Vbique Deo;"
+"Nisi Dominvs Frvstra" (the City motto);</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Pax Intrantibvs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Salvs Exevntibvs."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Here is one in the vernacular:
+"Gif.Ve.Died.As.Ve.Sovld.Ve.Mycht.Haif.As.Ve.Vald;" which is translated,
+"If we did as we should, we might have as we would."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 291px;">
+<img src="images/image0038-1.jpg" width="291" height="500" alt="JOHN KNOX&#39;S STUDY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">JOHN KNOX&#39;S STUDY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Near the end of the High street, on the way to the Canongate, stands
+John Knox's house, which has been put in order and made a show-place.
+The exterior, from its exceedingly picturesque character, is more
+attractive than the interior. The house had originally belonged to the
+abbot of Dunfermline, and when taken by Knox a very snug little study
+was added, built of wood and projecting from the front, in accordance
+with an order from the magistrates, directing "with al diligence to make
+ane warm studye of dailles to the minister John Knox, within his hous,
+aboue the hall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> of the same, with light and wyndokis thereunto, and al
+uther necessaris." The motto of this house is
+"Lvfe.God.Abvfe.Al.And.Yi.Nychtbovr.As.Yi.Self." A curious image at one
+corner was long thought to represent Knox preaching, and probably still
+does so in the popular belief; but others now think it represents Moses.
+It is an old man kneeling, with one hand resting on a tablet, and with
+the other pointing up to a stone above him carved to resemble the sun,
+and having on its disk the name of the Deity in three languages:
+"&#920;&#917;&#927;&#931;.Deus.God."</p>
+
+<p>Of the style of Knox's preaching, even when he was enfeebled by
+ill-health, one gets a good idea from the following passage in James
+Melville's diary: "And by the said Rickart and an other servant, lifted
+up to the pulpit whar he behovit to lean, at his first entrie; bot or he
+had done with his sermon, he was sa active and vigorous, that he was lyk
+to ding that pulpit in blads and flie out of it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0039-1.jpg" width="600" height="405" alt="ROOM IN WHICH KNOX DIED." title="" />
+<span class="caption">ROOM IN WHICH KNOX DIED.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Passing on down Canongate, once the court suburb, we come to Moray
+House, the former residence of the earls of Moray, and at one time
+occupied by Cromwell. It is now used for a school, and is in much better
+preservation than many of its neighbors. At the very bottom of the
+Canongate, not far from Holyrood House, stands the White Horse Inn. The
+house has not been an inn for many years, but was chosen by Scott as the
+quarters of Captain Waverley: its builders probably thought little of
+beauty when they built it, yet squalor, dilapidation and decay have
+given it the elements of the picturesque, and the fact that Scott has
+mentioned it is sufficient to nerve the tourist to hold his nose and
+admire.</p>
+
+<p>A black, gaunt, forbidding-looking structure near at hand was once the
+residence of the dukes of Queensberry. Charles, the third duke, was born
+in it: it is his duchess, Lady Catherine Hyde, whose pranks are so
+frequently recorded in Horace Walpole's letters&mdash;"very clever, very
+whimsical, and just not mad." Their Graces did not often occupy their
+Scottish residences, but in 1729, the lord chamberlain having refused
+his license to Gay's play, <i>Polly</i>, a continuation of the <i>Beggar's
+Opera</i>, the duke and duchess took Gay's part so warmly as to leave the
+court and retire to Queensberry House, bringing the poet with them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0040-1.jpg" width="600" height="388" alt="WHITE HORSE INN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">WHITE HORSE INN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The duchess was much sung by the poets of her day, among them Prior, who
+is now so little read that we may recall a few of his once well-known
+verses:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Shall I thumb holy books, confined<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With Abigails forsaken?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kitty's for other things designed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or I am much mistaken.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must Lady Jenny frisk about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And visit with her cousins?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At balls must she make all the rout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bring home hearts by dozens?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What has she better, pray, than I?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What hidden charms to boast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all mankind for her should die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whilst I am scarce a toast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dearest mamma, for once let me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unchained, my fortune try:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'll have my earl as well as she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or know the reason why.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Make all her lovers fall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They'll grieve I was not loosed before&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She, I was loosed at all."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kitty, at heart's desire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Obtained the chariot for a day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And set the world on fire!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>On the death of Duke Charles, Queensberry House came into the possession
+of his cousin, the earl of March, a singular man-about-town in London,
+known as "Old Q.:" he stripped it of all its ornaments, without and
+within, and sold it to the government for a barracks. It is now used as
+a house of refuge. On its gate are the following notices: "White-seam
+sewing neatly executed." "Applications for admission by the destitute
+any lawful day from 10 to 12." "Bread and soup supplied from 1 to 3,
+afternoon. Porridge supplied from 8 to 9, morning, 6 to 7, evening."
+"Night Refuge open at 7 P.M. No admission on Sundays." "No person
+allowed more than three nights' shelter in one month." Such are the
+mottoes that now adorn the house which sheltered Prior's Kitty.</p>
+
+<p>A striking object in the same vicinity is the Canongate Tolbooth, with
+pepper-box turrets and a clock projecting from the front on iron
+brackets, which have taken the place of the original curiously-carved
+oaken beams. Executions sometimes took place in front of this building,
+which led wags to find a grim joke in its motto: "Sic.Itvr.Ad.Astra." A
+more frequent place of execution was the Girth Cross, near the foot of
+the Canongate, which marked the limit of the right of sanctuary
+belonging to the abbey of Holyrood. At the Girth Cross, Lady Warriston
+was executed for the murder of her husband, which has been made the
+subject of many ballads:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My mother was an ill woman:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In fifteen years she married me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hadna wit to guide a man:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Alas! ill counsel guided me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Warriston! O Warriston!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wish that ye may sink fire in:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I was but bare fifteen years auld<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When first I entered your gates within.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I hadna been a month married,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till my gude lord went to the sea:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bare a bairn ere he came hame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And set it on the nourice knee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But it fell ance upon a day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That my gude lord return'd from sea:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I did dress in the best array,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As blythe as ony bird on tree.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I took my young son in my arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Likewise my nourice me forebye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I went down to yon shore-side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My gude lord's vessel I might spy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My lord he stood upon the deck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wha'se aught that bairn on your knee?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She turn'd her right and roundabout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! I was too young married<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To love another man but thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Now hold your tongue, my lady gay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This bonny bairn is not mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You've loved another while I was on sea."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In discontent then hame she went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And aye the tear did blin' her e'e:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For these harsh words he said to me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She's counsel'd wi' her father's steward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What way she cou'd revenged be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bad was the counsel then he gave:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It was to gar her gude lord dee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nourice took the deed in hand:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wat she was well paid her fee:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She keist the knot, and the loop she ran<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which soon did gar this young lord dee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0041-1.jpg" width="600" height="352" alt="HOLYROOD AND BURNS&#39;S MONUMENT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HOLYROOD AND BURNS&#39;S MONUMENT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another version has:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The nurice she knet the knot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And oh, she knet it sicker:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ladie did gie it a twig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till it began to wicker.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The murder was committed on the 2d of July, 1600, and with the speedy
+justice of that time the punishment followed on the 5th. The lady was
+sentenced to be "wooried at the stake and brint," but her relatives had
+influence enough to secure a modification of the sentence, so that she
+was beheaded by the "maiden," a form of guillotine introduced by the
+Regent Morton. The original sentence was executed upon the nurse, who
+had no powerful relatives.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image0042-1.jpg" width="600" height="380" alt="STONE ON WHICH THE COVENANT WAS SIGNED." title="" />
+<span class="caption">STONE ON WHICH THE COVENANT WAS SIGNED.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Directly opposite the Canongate Tolbooth is a very antiquated dwelling,
+with three gables to the street, which converses with the passer-by on
+envy and backbiting. It begins: "Hodie.Mihi.Cras.Tibi.Cur.Igitur.Curas"
+("To-day, mine; to-morrow, thine; why then care?"). As if premising an
+unsatisfactory answer, it continues: "Ut Tu Linguae Tuae, Sic Ego Mear.
+Aurium, Dominus Sum." ("As thou of thy tongue, so I of my ears, am
+lord"), and finally takes refuge in "Constanti Pectori Res Mortalium
+Umbra" ("To the steadfast heart the affairs of mortals are but
+shadows").</p>
+
+<p>In the plain at the foot of the Canongate stands Holyrood Abbey and
+Palace, which, with the exception of one wing containing Queen Mary's
+apartments, has been rebuilt within comparatively modern times. The
+abbey church is a crumbling ruin, although a power amid its decay, for
+it possesses still the right of sanctuary. This refuge offered by the
+Church was a softening and humanizing influence when private feuds were
+settled by the sword and the Far-West principle of death at sight
+generally prevailed: later on, it became an abuse, and gradually
+disappeared. The Holyrood sanctuary is the only one now existing in
+Great Britain, but is available for insolvent debtors only: it includes
+the precincts of the palace and the Queen's Park (five miles in
+circumference), but it contains no buildings except in that portion of
+the precincts extending from the palace to the foot of Canongate, about
+one hundred and thirty yards in a direct line. Within this limited
+district the debtor seeks his lodging, has the Queen's Park for his
+recreation, and on Sundays is free to go where he likes, as on that day
+he cannot be molested. It was a curious relic of old customs to read in
+Edinburgh newspapers in the year 1876 the following extract from a
+debtor's letter, in which he makes his terms with the sheriff: "However
+desirous I am to obey the order of the sheriff to attend my examination,
+I am sorry to be obliged to intimate that in consequence of the
+vindictive and oppressive proceedings of some of my creditors I cannot
+present myself in court at the diet fixed unless protection from
+personal diligence be granted. I will have much pleasure, however, in
+attending the court in the event of the sheriff granting a special
+warrant to bring me from the sanctuary, which warrant shall protect me
+against arrest for debt and other civil obligations while under
+examination, and on the way to and from the place of examination." The
+sheriff granted the warrant.</p>
+
+<p>From Holyrood we fancy the traveler next remounting the hill into the
+Old Town, and seeking out the churchyard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> of Greyfriars, whose
+monuments, full of interest to the student and the antiquary, are in
+themselves an epitome of Scottish history. The church has been ravaged
+by fire and rebuilt, so that it retains but little antiquity: the
+churchyard, on the other hand, has seen few changes except in the
+increase of its monuments as time has passed on.</p>
+
+<p>Here the Solemn League and Covenant was entered into. It was first read
+in the church, and agreed to by all there, and then handed to the crowd
+without, who signed it on the flat tombstones.</p>
+
+<p>Among the most conspicuous monuments in this churchyard are, on the one
+hand, that to those who died for their fidelity to this Covenant, and on
+the other the tomb of Sir George Mackenzie, king's advocate and public
+prosecutor of the Covenanters.</p>
+
+<p>On the Martyrs' Monument, as it is called, one reads: "From May 27th,
+1661, that the most noble marquis of Argyle was beheaded, until Feb.
+18th, 1688, there were executed in Edinburgh about one hundred noblemen,
+gentlemen, ministers and others: the most of them lie here.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But as for them no cause was to be found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy of death, but only they were sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Constant, and steadfast, zealous, witnessing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the prerogatives of Christ their King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which truths were sealed by famous Guthrie's head."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And so on.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Thomas Guthrie, who, as we have seen, found much inspiration in the
+scenes of his daily walks, sought to trace his origin back to this
+Guthrie of the Martyrs' Monument. "I failed," he wrote, "yet am
+conscious that the idea and probability of this has had a happy
+influence on my public life, in determining me to contend and suffer, if
+need be, for the rights of Christ's crown and the liberties of His
+Church."</p>
+
+<p>The learning and accomplishments of Sir George Mackenzie were forgotten
+amid the religious animosities of his day, and he came down to posterity
+as the terror of nursery-maids and a portentous bugaboo under the name
+of Bloody Mackenzie. It is related that the boys of the town were in the
+habit of gathering at nightfall about his tomb and shouting in at the
+keyhole,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bluidy Mackenzie, come out if ye daur:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lift the sneck and draw the bar!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>after which they would scatter, as if they feared the tenant might take
+them at their word. The tomb is a handsome circular Roman temple, now
+much dilapidated by weather and soot, and so dark and sombre as to make
+it very uncanny in the gloaming, especially to one approaching it with
+the view of shouting "Bluidy Mackenzie" through the keyhole. This
+popular superstition was once turned to account by a youth under
+sentence of death for burglary. His friends aided him in escaping from
+prison, and provided him with a key to this mausoleum, where he passed
+six weeks in the tomb with the Bluidy Mackenzie&mdash;a situation of horror
+made tolerable only as a means of escape from death. Food was brought to
+him at night, and when the heat of pursuit was over he got to a vessel
+and out of the country.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image0044-1.jpg" width="325" height="500" alt="MACKENZIE&#39;S TOMB." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MACKENZIE&#39;S TOMB.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The New Town of Edinburgh is separated from the Old Town by the ravine
+of the North Loch, over which are thrown the bridges by which the two
+towns are connected. The loch has been drained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> and is now occupied by
+the Public Gardens and by the railway. The New Town is substantially the
+work of the last half of the past century and the first half of the
+present one&mdash;a period which sought everywhere except at home for its
+architectural models. In some of the recent improvements in the Old Town
+very pretty effects have been produced by copying the better features of
+the ancient dwellings all around them, but the grandiloquent ideas of
+the Georgian era could not have been content with anything so simple and
+homespun as this. Its ideal was the cold and pompous, and it succeeded
+in giving to the New-Town streets that distant and repellent air of
+supreme self-satisfaction which makes the houses appear to say to the
+curious looker-on, "Seek no farther, for in us you find the perfectly
+correct thing." The embodiment of this spirit may be seen in the bronze
+statue of George IV. by Chantrey, in George street: the artist has
+caught the pert strut so familiar in the portraits, at sight of which
+one involuntarily exclaims, "Behold the royal swell!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/image0045-1.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="THE NORTH BRIDGE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE NORTH BRIDGE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>But the New Town has two superb features, about whose merits all are
+agreed: we need hardly say these are Princes street and the Calton
+Hill. Princes street extends along the brow of the hill over-hanging the
+ravine which separates the two towns, and which is now occupied by
+public gardens: along their grassy slopes the eye wanders over trees and
+flowers to the great rock which o'ertops the greenery, bearing aloft the
+Castle as its crown, while from the Castle the Old Town, clustering
+along the height, streams away like a dark and deeply-colored train. The
+Calton Hill offers to the view a wide-spreading panorama. At our feet
+are the smoking chimneys of Auld Reekie, from which we gladly turn our
+eyes to the blue water and the shores of Fife, or seek out in the shadow
+of Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat the tottering arch of Holyrood
+Abbey. The hill is well dotted over,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All up and down and here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Lord-knows-what's of round and square;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>which on examination prove to be monuments to the great departed. A
+great change has taken place in the prevalent taste since they were
+erected, and they are not now pointed out to the stranger with fond
+pride, as in the past generation. The best one is that to Dugald
+Stewart, an adaptation, the guide-books say, of the Choragic Monument of
+Lysicrates. The all-pervading photograph has made it so familiar that it
+comes upon one as an old friend.</p>
+
+<p>The Burns Monument is a circular edifice with columns and a cupola. It
+has all the outward semblance of a tomb, so that one is rather startled
+to find it tenanted by a canny Scot&mdash;a live one&mdash;who presides with
+becomingly sepulchral gravity over a twopenny show of miscellaneous
+trumpery connected with Robert Burns. Everywhere in old Edinburgh we
+have seen going on the inevitable struggle between utility and
+sentiment: at Burns's Monument it ceases, and we conclude our ramble at
+this point, where the sentimentalist and the utilitarian shake hands,
+the former deeply sympathizing with the sentiment which led to the
+building of the monument, while the latter fondly admires the ingenuity
+which can turn even a cenotaph to account.</p>
+
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Alfred S. Gibbs.</span></p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Baloo is a lullaby, supposed to be from the French <i>Bas, l&agrave;
+le loup</i>&mdash;"Lie still, the wolf is coming."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> The "dear deceiver" was said to have been her cousin, the
+Hon. Alexander Erskine, brother to the earl of Mar. He came to a violent
+death, although not in the manner suggested in the ballad. While
+stationed at Dunglass Castle, engaged in collecting levies for the army
+of the Covenanters, an angry page thrust a red-hot poker into the
+powder-magazine, and blew him up with a number of others, so that there
+was "never bone nor hyre seen of them again."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A LAW UNTO HERSELF.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<p>On a raw, cloudy afternoon in early spring a few years ago a
+family-carriage was driven slowly down a lonely road in one of the
+outlying suburbs of Philadelphia, stopping at last in front of an
+apparently vacant house. This house was built of gray stone, and stood
+back from the road, surrounded by a few sombre pines and much rank
+shrubbery: shrubbery and trees, and the house itself, had long been
+abandoned to decay.</p>
+
+<p>"Heah am de place, sah," said the footman, opening the carriage-door.</p>
+
+<p>An old gentleman in shabby clothes, embellished dramatically by a red
+necktie, an empty sleeve pinned to his breast, sprang out briskly; a
+lady followed, and stood beside him: then a younger man, his head
+muffled in a close fur cap, a yellow shawl wrapped about his neck,
+looked feebly out of the window. His face, which a pair of pale,
+unkindled eyes had never lighted since he was born, had been incomplete
+of meaning in his best days, and long illness had only emphasized its
+weakness. He half rose, sat down again, stared uncertainly at the house,
+yawned nervously, quite indifferent to the fact that the lady stood
+waiting his pleasure. His money and his bodily sufferings&mdash;for he was
+weighted heavily with both&mdash;were quite enough, in his view, to give him
+the right to engross the common air and the service of other men and
+women. Indeed, a certain indomitable conceit thrust itself into view in
+his snub nose and retreating chin, which made it highly probable that if
+he had been a stout day-laborer in the road yonder, he would have been
+just as complacent as now, and have patronized his fellows in the ditch.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you take my arm, William?" said the old man waiting in the road.
+"This is the house."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have half a mind to drop the whole matter. Why should I drag out
+the secrets of the grave? God knows, I shall find them out soon enough!"</p>
+
+<p>"Just so. Precisely. It's a miserable business for this April day. Now,
+I don't want to advise, but shall we drive out on the Wissahickon and
+fish a bit? You'll catch a perch, and Jane shall broil it over the
+coals, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course I'm going through with it," scowling and blinking through
+his eye-glasses. "But we are ten minutes before the time. I can't sit in
+a draughty room waiting. Tell David to drive slowly down the road until
+four, Captain Swendon."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, certainly," with the nervous conciliatory haste of a man
+long used to being snubbed.&mdash;"You hear Mr. Laidley, David?&mdash;We'll
+arrange it in this way, then. Miss Fleming and I will stroll down the
+road, William, until the time is up.&mdash;No, Jane," as his daughter was
+going to leave the carriage. "Stay with your cousin." The captain was
+his peremptory self again. Like every man conscious of his own
+inability, he asserted himself by incessant managing and meddling for
+his neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>The carriage jolted down the rutted road. The little man inside tossed
+on the well-padded cushions, and moaned and puffed spasmodically at his
+cigar.</p>
+
+<p>Buff and David, stiff in green and gold on the box, nodded significantly
+at each other. "He's nigh unto de end," said Buff. "De gates of glory am
+creakin' foh him."</p>
+
+<p>"Creakin', shore nuff. But 'bout de glory I'm not so shore. Yoh see, I
+knows," rubbing his gray whiskers with the end of the whip. "I have him
+in charge. Mass' Swendon gib orders: 'Yoh stick by him, Dave.' 'S got no
+friends: 's got no backbone. Why, wid a twinge ob toothache he squirms
+like an eel in de fire&mdash;swears to make de debbil turn pale. It'll be an
+awful sight when Death gits a holt on him. But I'll stick."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Swendon and Miss Fleming, left alone under the pines, both
+turned and looked at the house as if it were an open grave.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So it is here the dead are to come back?" said the captain with a
+feebly-jocular giggle. "We'll go down the road a bit. 'Pon my soul, the
+atmosphere here is ghastly."</p>
+
+<p>They struck into the meadows, sauntered through a strip of woodland
+where the sparrows were chirping in the thin green boughs overhead, and,
+crossing some newly-ploughed fields, came suddenly upon a row of
+contract-houses, bold, upright in the mud, aggressively new and genteel.
+They were tricked out with thin marble facings and steps. A drug-shop
+glittered already at one end of the block, and a milliner's furbelowed
+window closed the other with a red-lettered sign, which might have
+served as a motto for the whole: "Here you buy your dollar's worth of
+fashion for your dime of cash."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" cried the captain, "no ghostly work here!&mdash;the last place where
+one would look for any miraculous stoppage of the laws of Nature."</p>
+
+<p>"Stoppage, you should say, of the social laws of 'gents' and their
+ladies, which are much more inexorable," said his companion. "Oh I know
+them!" glancing in at the windows, as she tramped through the yellow
+mud, with keen, amused eyes. "I know just what life must be in one of
+these houses&mdash;the starving music-teacher on one side of you, and the
+soapboiler on the other: the wretched small servant going the rounds of
+the block to whiten the steps every evening, while the mistresses sit
+within in cotton lace and sleazy silks, tinkling on the piano, or
+counting up the greasy passbook from the grocer's. Imagine such a life
+broken in upon by a soul from the other world!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yet souls go out from it into the other world. And I've known good
+women who wore cheap finery and aped gentility. Of course," with a
+sudden gusty energy, "<i>I</i> don't endorse that sort of thing; and I don't
+believe the dead will come back to-day. Don't mistake me," shaking his
+head. The captain was always gusty and emphatic. His high-beaked,
+quick-glancing face and owlish eyes were ready to punctuate other men's
+thoughts with an incessant exclamation-point to bring out their true
+meaning. Since he was a boy he had known that he was born a
+drill-sergeant and the rest of mankind raw recruits. "Now, there's
+something terribly pathetic to me," he said, "in this whole expedition
+of ours. The idea of poor Will in his last days trying to catch a
+glimpse of the country to which he is going!"</p>
+
+<p>Cornelia Fleming nodded, and let the subject drop. She never wasted her
+time by peering into death or religion. She belonged to this world, and
+she knew it. A wise racer keeps to the course for which he has been
+trained, and never ventures into the quagmires beyond. She stopped
+beside a tiny yard where a magnolia tree spread its bare stalks and dull
+white flowers over the fence, and stood on tiptoe to break a bud. The
+owner of the house, an old man with a box of carpenter's tools in his
+hand, opened the door at the moment. She nodded brightly to him. "I am
+robbing you, sir. For a sick friend yonder," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He came down quickly and loaded her with flowers, thinking he had never
+heard a voice as peculiar and pleasant. The captain, a little behind,
+eyed her critically from head to foot, his mouth drawn up for a
+meditative whistle, as she stood on tiptoe, her arm stretched up among
+the creamy buds. The loose sleeve fell back: the arm was round and
+white.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good! ve-ry good!" the whistle meant; "and I know the points of a
+fine woman as well as any of these young fellows."</p>
+
+<p>Two young fellows, coming up, lingered to glance at the jimp waist and
+finely-turned ankle, with a shrug to each other when, passing by, they
+saw her homely face.</p>
+
+<p>The captain gallantly relieved her of her flowers, and paraded down the
+road, head up, elbows well out, as he used, thirty years ago, to escort
+pretty Virginie Mor&ocirc;t in the French quartier of New Orleans. It was long
+since he had relished conversation as he did with this frank, generous
+creature. No coquetry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> about her! It was like talking to a clever,
+candid boy. Every man felt, in fact, with Cornelia, that she was only a
+younger brother. He liked the hearty grasp of her big white hand; he
+liked her honest, downright way of stating things, and her perfect
+indifference to her own undeniable ugliness. Now, any other woman of her
+age&mdash;thirty, eh? (with a quick critical glance)&mdash;would dye her hair: she
+never cared to hide the streaks of gray through the yellow. She had
+evidently long ago made up her mind that love and marriage were
+impossible for women as unprepossessing as she: she stepped freely up,
+therefore, to level ground with men, and struck hands and made
+friendships with them precisely as if she were one of themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The captain quite glowed with the fervor of this friendship as he
+marched along talking energetically. A certain subtle instinct of
+kinship between them seemed to him to trench upon the supernatural: it
+covered every thought and taste. She had a keen wit, she grasped his
+finest ideas: not even Jane laughed at his jokes more heartily. She
+appreciated his inventive ability: he was not sure that Jane did. There
+were topics, too, on which he could touch with this mature companion
+that were caviare to Jane. It was no such mighty matter if he blurted
+out an oath before her, as he used to do in the army. Something, indeed,
+in the very presence of the light, full figure keeping step with his
+own, in the heavy odor of the magnolias and the steady regard of the
+yellowish-brown eyes, revived within him an old self which belonged to
+those days in the army&mdash;a self which was not the man whom his daughter
+knew, by any means.</p>
+
+<p>They were talking at the time, as it happened, of his military
+experience: "I served under Scott in Mexico. Jane thinks me a hero, of
+course. But I confess to you that I enlisted, in the first place, to
+keep the wolf out of the house at home. I had spent our last dollar in
+manufacturing my patent scissors, and they&mdash;well, they wouldn't cut
+anything, unless&mdash;I used to suspect Atropos had borrowed them and meant
+to snip the thread for me, it was stretched so tightly just then."</p>
+
+<p>She looked gravely at his empty sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>The captain caught the glance, and coughed uncomfortably: "Oh, I did not
+lose that in the service, you understand. No such luck! Five days after
+I was discharged, after I had come out of every battle with a whole
+skin, I was on a railway-train going home. Collision: arm taken off at
+the elbow. If it had happened just one week earlier, I should have had a
+pension, and Jane&mdash;Well, Jane has had a rough time of it, Miss Fleming.
+But it was my luck!"</p>
+
+<p>They had returned through the woods, and were in sight again of the
+house standing darkly among the pines. Two gentlemen, pacing up and down
+the solitary road, came down the hill to meet them.</p>
+
+<p>"Tut! tut! It is that Virginia lawyer who has come up to get into
+practice here&mdash;Judge Rhodes. You know him, Miss Fleming. There's an end
+to our quiet talk. That fellow besieges a woman with his click-clack:
+never leaves a crack for a sensible man to edge in a word."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fleming turned her honest eyes full on his for a moment, but did
+not speak. The captain's startled, foolish old heart throbbed with a
+feeling which he had not known since that day in the boat on the bayou
+when Virginie Mor&ocirc;t first put her warm little hand in his. Virginie as a
+wife had been a trifle of a shrew. Love in the remembrance often has a
+bitter twang. But this was friendship! How sweet were the friendship and
+confidence of a woman! Pretty women of late years approached the captain
+in his fatherly capacity, much to his disrelish. A man need not have his
+gray hairs and rheumatism thrown in his teeth at every turn. Miss
+Fleming, now, saw beneath them: she saw what a gallant young fellow he
+was at heart. He looked down at her eagerly, but she was carelessly
+inspecting the judge and his companion.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the fair-haired, natty little man?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Phil Waring, a young fellow about town. Society man. Too fond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> of
+cards. Nice lad, but no experience: no companion for you, Miss Fleming."</p>
+
+<p>A vague, subtle change passed over her. It was no definable alteration
+in mind or body, yet a keener observer than the captain might have
+suspected a readjustment of both to suit some possible new relation.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Waring and the judge joined them, and they all walked together
+toward the house, engrossed with their errand. Miss Fleming never
+expected from men the finical gallantry usually paid to young ladies,
+and even the gallant Virginian did not give it to her. The captain
+indeed, perceiving that she was occupied with Judge Rhodes, gave her up
+to his escort. "It is almost four. I will go down the road and find the
+carriage and William," he said, and left them.</p>
+
+<p>Judge Rhodes, as they drew near the house, regarded it darkly: "Decay!
+death and decay!" waving his pudgy red hands theatrically. "A gloomy
+gate indeed, through which the dead might well choose to return."</p>
+
+<p>"I should call it a badly-set stage for a poor melodrama," said Miss
+Fleming coolly.</p>
+
+<p>"But your character is so practical! You are fortunate in that." The
+judge, who was a stout, bald man, gazed at the house with vague
+abstraction and dilating nostrils. "Now, I am peculiarly susceptible to
+spiritual influences. I have been since a boy as sensitive to pain, to,
+ah&mdash;sympathies, to those, ah&mdash;electric cords, as Byron says, wherewith
+we're darkly bound, as&mdash;as a wind-harp. I really dread the effect upon
+myself of the revelations of to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fleming was silent. The judge, as she knew, was one of those shrewd
+common-sense men who, when lifted out of their place into the region of
+sentiment or romance, swagger and generally misconduct themselves, like
+a workman conscious of his ill-fitting Sunday finery.</p>
+
+<p>One or two carriages drove up to the gate and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are those people, Mr. Waring?" said the judge, dropping into his
+ordinary tone.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Waring put on his eye-glasses. He knew everybody, and had as keen
+an eye and strong an antipathy for eccentric characters in conventional
+Philadelphia as a proof-reader for false type. "There is Dehr, the
+German hom&oelig;opath and Spiritualist," he said in a little mild voice,
+which oddly reminded Miss Fleming of the gurgling flow of new milk.
+"That woman marching before him is his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," muttered the judge&mdash;"strong-minded. Most extraordinary women
+turn up every day here. This one lectures on hygiene. Mad, undoubtedly."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no," said Waring&mdash;"very dull, good people, both of the Dehrs. Not
+two ideas to share between them. But there are a dozen tow-headed
+youngsters at home: they drive the old people into such out-of-the-way
+courses to scratch for a living. That man in white is the great
+Socialist, Schaus. The others are scientific fellows from New York and
+Boston."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish Van Ness was here," said the judge, nodding ponderously. "Van
+Ness is better known in Richmond than any other Philadelphian, sir. Most
+remarkable man. Science is well enough as far as it goes, but for clear
+intelligence, give me Pliny Van Ness."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt," said Mr. Waring gravely. "Great reformer, I hear. Don't meet
+him in society. Of a new family."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Laidley objected to his coming," said Cornelia.</p>
+
+<p>"He did, eh? I'm astonished at that," said the judge. "I consider Van
+Ness&mdash;But Laidley had the right to object, of course. The meeting is one
+of the captain's famous schemes&mdash;to amuse Laidley. But they tell me that
+he knows he is dying, and has determined to bring a certain spirit out
+of the other world to ask an important question."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think," said Miss Fleming dryly, "Mr. Laidley would always
+require supernatural aid to make up his mind for him. After I talk to
+him I have the feeling that I have been handling froth. Not clean froth
+either." When Miss Fleming made the men and women about her the subjects
+of her skill in dissection, her voice took a neat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> incisive edge,
+suggestive of the touch of a scalpel. Little Mr. Waring, pulling his
+moustache thoughtfully, studied her for a moment without reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoh!" laughed the judge. "You have a keen eye! There can be no doubt,"
+suddenly sobering, "that Laidley has been uncommonly fast. But his blood
+is good&mdash;none better in Maryland. High-toned family, the Laidleys. Mr.
+Waring here could give you his life chapter by chapter if he would. But
+he would skip over the dirty bits as carefully as he is doing in the
+road."</p>
+
+<p>"Laidley's life is so very nearly over," suggested Mr. Waring quietly.</p>
+
+<p>There was an awkward silence of a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I can't understand," blustered the judge, "how Captain Swendon can
+nurse that fellow as tenderly as he is doing. I've got my share of
+humanity and forgiveness, and all that. But if any man had thrust my
+wife and child out of their property, as he has done, he had better have
+kept out of my sight, sir. I know all about them, you see, for two
+generations. Captain's wife was a New Orleans girl&mdash;Virginia Mor&ocirc;t. It
+wasn't a matter of property: it was starvation. Poor little
+Virginie&mdash;pretty creature she was too!&mdash;would have been alive to-day,
+there's no doubt of it, if she could have had proper food and medicines.
+And there's his daughter! What kind of a life has she had for a girl
+with such blood in her veins? Why, if I should tell you the sum on which
+that child has supported herself and her father in Baltimore and here
+since her mother died, you wouldn't believe me. And Laidley did nothing
+for them. Not a penny! Under the circumstances it was a crime for him to
+be alive."</p>
+
+<p>"What were the circumstances?" asked Miss Fleming.</p>
+
+<p>"The property, you understand, was old Mor&ocirc;t's&mdash;Mor&ocirc;t of New Orleans.
+Virginie was his only child: she married Swendon, and her father came to
+live with them in Baltimore. The two men were at odds from the first
+day. Old Mor&ocirc;t was a keen, pig-headed business-man: he knew nothing
+outside of the tobacco-trade; worked in the counting-house all day; his
+one idea of pleasure was to swill port and terrapin half the night.
+Swendon&mdash;Well, you know the captain. He was a brilliant young fellow in
+those days, full of ideas that never came to anything&mdash;an invention
+every month which was to make his fortune. They quarreled, of course the
+wife sided with her husband, and Mor&ocirc;t, in a fit of rage, left the whole
+property to his nephew, Will Laidley. When he was on his deathbed,
+however, the old man relented and sent for Laidley. It was too late to
+alter the will, but he charged him to do justice to his daughter.
+Laidley has told me that much himself. But it never occurred to him that
+justice meant anything more than to keep the estate, and allow it at his
+death to revert to Jane and her father."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well!" cried Mr. Waring hastily, "that cannot be far off now.
+Laidley is so nearly a thing of the past, judge, that we might afford to
+bury his faults with him, decently out of sight."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't put out of sight the years of want for Virginie and her child
+while he was throwing their money to the dogs in every gambling-hell in
+Baltimore and New York. Why, the story was so well known that when he
+came down to Richmond he was not recognized, sir! Not recognized. He
+felt it. Left the county like a whipped cur."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, legally, the money was his own," remarked Cornelia.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, legally, I grant you! But morally, now&mdash;" The judge had counted on
+Miss Fleming's sympathy in his story. Only the day before he had seen
+the tears come to her eyes over his hurt hound. He was disappointed that
+she took little Jane's misfortunes so coolly. "Of course this sort of
+crime is unappreciable in the courts. But society, Virginia society,
+knows how to deal with it."</p>
+
+<p>"I happen to know," said Waring, "that Laidley's will was made a year
+ago, leaving the whole property to Miss Swendon."</p>
+
+<p>"And he knows that in the mean time she is barely able to keep herself
+and her father alive. Pah-h!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Really, Jane has quite a dramatic history, and you are precisely the
+person to tell it with effect, judge," said Miss Fleming, smiling
+good-humoredly, with that peculiar affable intonation which always numbs
+the hearer into a conviction that his too excessive emotion is being
+humored as the antics of an ill-disciplined child.</p>
+
+<p>The judge grew red.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," continued Miss Fleming, her eyes upon him, "Jane <i>is</i> pretty.
+Your zeal is excusable." The road was muddy at this point, and she
+passed on in front of them, picking her steps.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn it!" said the judge, "they're all alike! No woman can be just to a
+pretty face. I thought this girl had sense enough to lift her above such
+petty jealousy."</p>
+
+<p>"She is not jealous," said Waring, looking critically at her back as he
+arranged his thin tow-colored moustache. "She is an Arab among her own
+sex. It's a common type in this part of the country. She fraternizes
+with men, horses and Nature, and sneers at other women as she would at
+artificial flowers and perfumery. I don't know Miss Fleming, but I know
+her class very well."</p>
+
+<p>The Virginian, whose blood revolted at this censure of a lady, rushed to
+the rescue: "She's honest, at any rate. No mean feminine tricks about
+her. She's offensively truthful. And, after all, she's right: Swendon is
+a good-for-nothing, a well-born tramp; and Jane is hardly a subject for
+pity. She's a remarkably healthy girl; a little dull, but with more
+staying power in her than belongs to a dozen of those morbid,
+strong-minded women of yours in the North. I suppose I do let my
+sympathy run away with me."</p>
+
+<p>They joined Cornelia and entered the broken gate. The door of the house
+swung open at a touch. Within were bare halls and rooms covered with
+dust, the floors of which creaked drearily under their tread. Following
+the sound of stifled voices, they went up to a large upper chamber. The
+walls of this room were stained almost black; a thick carpet deadened
+the floor; the solid wooden shutters were barred and heavily curtained.
+They made their way to the farther end of the room, a little apart from
+a group of dark figures who talked together in whispers. Miss Fleming
+noticed a nervous trepidation in the manner of both men, and instantly
+became grave, as though she too were more deeply moved than she cared to
+show.</p>
+
+<p>The whispers ceased, and the silence was growing oppressive when steps
+were heard upon the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoh!" puffed the judge. "Here is Laidley at last."</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<p>It was not Laidley who entered, but Mrs. Combe, then the most-famous
+clairvoyant in the United States. According to statements of men both
+shrewd and honest she had lately succeeded in bringing the dead back to
+them in actual bodily presence. The voice was heard, then the spirit
+slowly grew into matter beside them. They could feel and see its warm
+flesh, its hair and clothing, and even while they held it it melted
+again into the impalpable air, and was gone. The account was attested by
+persons of such integrity and prominence as to command attention from
+scientific men. They knew, of course, that it was a trick, but the trick
+must be so well managed as to be worth the trouble of exposure. Hence,
+Mrs. Combe upon her entrance was received with silent, keen attention.</p>
+
+<p>She was a tall pillar-like woman, with some heavy drapery of black
+velvet or cloth about her: there were massive coils of coarse black
+hair, dead narrow eyes of the same color, a closely-shut jaw: no point
+of light in the figure, but a rope of unburnished gold about her neck.
+She stood with her hands dropped at her sides, immovable, while her
+husband, a greasy little manikin with a Jewish face, turned on the light
+and waved the attention of the audience to her: "This is Miriam Combe,
+the first person since the Witch of Endor who has succeeded in
+materializing the shpirits of the dead. Our meeting here to-day is under
+peculiar shircumstances. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> zhentleman unknown to me and Mrs. Combe, but
+who, I am told, is near death, desires to recall the shpirit of a dead
+friend. Zhentlemans will reconize the fact that the thing we propose to
+do depends upon the states of minds and matters about us. If these
+elements are disturbed by unbelief or by too much light or noise when
+the soul shtruggling to return wants silence and darkness, why&mdash;it
+cannot make for itself a body&mdash;dat's all."</p>
+
+<p>"You compel belief, in a word, before you prove to us that we ought to
+believe," said a professor from a Baptist college in New Jersey, smiling
+blandly down upon him. "Scientifically&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I knows noting of scientifics. I knows dat my wife hash de power to
+ashist de souls to clode demselves wid matter. I don't pretend to
+explain where she got dat power, I don't know what ish dat power: I only
+know she hash it. If zhentlemans will submit to the conditions, they
+shall zhoodge for demselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, the ignorance of this man impresses me favorably," said the
+professor to his friends. "He is evidently incapable of inventing a
+successful trick even of conjuring. If any great unknown force of Nature
+has chosen him or his wife as tools, we should not despise the
+manifestation because the tools are very gross matter. They are the
+steel wire charged with the lightning, perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Dehr came forward and touched the motionless woman, shaking his head
+solemnly: "She is highly charged with electricity now, sir. The air is
+vital, as I might say, with spiritual presences. I have no doubt,
+gentlemen, before we part, that we shall see one of the most remarkable
+phenomena of the nineteenth century."</p>
+
+<p>"How well she poses!" whispered Miss Fleming to the judge. "But the
+stage-properties are bad: the velvet is cotton, and the gold
+brass-gilt."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, to me," said the judge emphatically, "there is a dreadful reality,
+a dead look, in her face. What Poe would have made of this scene! There
+was a man who could grapple with these supreme mysteries! No! that woman
+undoubtedly has learned the secret of life and of death. She can afford
+to be passive." The judge's very whisper was judicial, though pulpy.</p>
+
+<p>It was not possible that the woman should have heard them, yet a moment
+after she lifted her eyes and motioned slowly toward them.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless my soul, ma'am! You don't want me!" cried the judge.</p>
+
+<p>Waring half rose, laughing, but with cold chills down his backbone, and
+then dropped into his seat, relieved: "You are the chosen victim, Miss
+Fleming."</p>
+
+<p>Cornelia went up to the medium. She was confident the whole affair was a
+vulgar trick, but there was a stricture at her heart as if an iron hand
+had been laid upon it. The energy went out of her step, the blood from
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>The woman laid her hand on her arm. "I need you," she said in a deep
+voice. "You have great magnetic force: you can aid this soul to return
+to life if you will. Sit there." She placed both her hands lightly on
+Cornelia's forehead. Miss Fleming dropped into the seat: she could not
+have done otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>"Before we opens the s&eacute;ance," proceeded Combe, "zhentlemans can examine
+de cabinet and convince demselves dere is no trick."</p>
+
+<p>The cabinet was a light triangular structure of black walnut, about
+seven feet in height, placed in one corner of the room, though with an
+open space between it and the wall. It moved on casters: the door was on
+the side facing the audience. Miss Fleming observed with amusement that
+the seat given her removed her to the farthest distance from this door.</p>
+
+<p>"You will notish dat dere is absolutely noting in de cabinet but a
+chair&mdash;zhoost de walls and de floor and de chair. Miriam will sit there,
+and de door will be closed. When it opens you will see de embodied
+spirit beside her."</p>
+
+<p>"Hillo!" cried the judge, "what's this behind the cabinet?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a window overlooking de garden: I had it boarded up to prevent
+you sushpecting me of trickery. But you sushpect mine boards, mein
+Gott!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> Exshamine dem, exshamine dem! Go outside."</p>
+
+<p>The judge did so. "They are screwed on honestly enough," he said to the
+spectators. "A ghost had need of a battering-ram to come through that
+window. It opens on an area thirty feet deep."</p>
+
+<p>The woman went into the cabinet and the door was closed. Steps were
+heard upon the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"It ish de zhentleman who calls for de shpirit to appear," said Combe in
+a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened, and Laidley, supported by Captain Swendon, entered,
+giving a quick appealing look about him as he halted for a moment on the
+threshold. The dignity of approaching death was in his weak, ghastly
+face, and the judge rose involuntarily, just as he would have stood
+uncovered if a corpse had gone by. Laidley took the seat which the
+captain with his usual bluster placed for him opposite the door of the
+cabinet. Combe turned out the lights: the room was in absolute darkness.
+The judge moved uneasily near to Waring: "Don't laugh at me, Mr. Waring.
+But I really feel that there is a Presence in this room which is not
+human. I wish I had listened to my wife. She does not approve of this
+sort of thing at all: she thinks no good churchman should meddle with
+it. But there is <i>something</i> in the room."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am conscious of what you mean. But it is a physical force, not
+spiritual. Not electricity, either. It is something which has never
+affected my senses before. Whatever it is, it is the stock in trade of
+these people."</p>
+
+<p>They were ordered by Combe to join hands, and everybody obeyed excepting
+the captain's daughter, who stood unnoticed by one of the curtained
+windows.</p>
+
+<p>A profound silence followed, broken by a stifled sob from some
+over-nervous woman. The low roll of an organ filled the void and died.
+After that there was no complete sound but at intervals the silence took
+breath, spoke in a half-articulate wail, and was dumb again.</p>
+
+<p>Pale nebulous light shone in the cabinet and faded: then a single ray
+fell direct on Laidley's face. It stood out from the night around like
+a bas-relief&mdash;livid, commonplace, a presentment of every-day death. Each
+man present suddenly saw his own grave open, and the world beyond
+brought within reach through this insignificant man.</p>
+
+<p>"The spirits of many of the dead are present," said the sepulchral voice
+within the cabinet. "What do you ask of them?"</p>
+
+<p>Laidley's lips moved: he grasped the arms of his chair, half rose: then
+he fumbled mechanically in his pocket for his cigar-case, and not
+finding it sank back helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you ask of them? Their time is brief."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a very ill man," he piped feebly: "the doctors give me no hope at
+all. I want advice about a certain matter before&mdash;before it's too late.
+It is a great wrong I have done that I want to set right."</p>
+
+<p>"Can any of the dead counsel you? Or do you summon one soul to appear?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is but one who knows."</p>
+
+<p>"Call for her, then."</p>
+
+<p>Laidley looked about him uncertainly: then he said in a hoarse whisper,
+"Virginie Mor&ocirc;t!"</p>
+
+<p>The captain sprang to his feet: "My wife? No, no! for God's sake!"</p>
+
+<p>The light was swiftly drawn back into the cabinet and extinguished.
+After several minutes the voice was heard again: "The spirit summoned is
+present. But it has not the force to resume a material body unless the
+need is urgent. You must state the question you would have answered."</p>
+
+<p>"I must see Virginie here, in bodily presence, before I'll accept any
+answer," said Laidley obstinately. "I'll have no hocus-pocus by mediums
+or raps. If the dead know anything, she knows why I need her. I have had
+money to which she had a&mdash;well, a claim. I've not spent it, perhaps, in
+the best way. I have a mind now to atone for my mistake by leaving it to
+a charity where I know it will do great good."</p>
+
+<p>An amazed whistle broke through the darkness from the corner where the
+judge sat. The captain caught Laidley's shoulder. "William," he
+whispered, "surely you forget Jane."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Laidley shook him off. "The money is my own," he said loudly, "to do
+with as I choose. But if Virginie can return from the dead, she shall
+decide for me."</p>
+
+<p>"It's enough to bring her back," muttered the judge. "Do you hear that?"
+thumping Waring's knee&mdash;"that miserable shrimp swindling her child in
+order to buy God's good-will for himself!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a prolonged silence. At last a voice was heard: "She will
+appear to you."</p>
+
+<p>The organ rolled heavily, low soft thunders of music rose and fell, a
+faint yellowish vapor stole out from under the cabinet and filled the
+darkness with a visible haze. Captain Swendon stumbled to his feet and
+went back to his daughter: "I can't bear it, child! I can't bear it!"
+dropping into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>She took his hand in her own, which were quite cool, and stroked and
+kissed it. But she did not speak nor take her eyes from the door of the
+cabinet.</p>
+
+<p>It opened. Within sat Miriam, immovable, her eyes closed. Beside her
+stood a shadowy luminous figure covered with a filmy veil. It moved
+forward into the room. So thick was the vapor that the figure itself
+appeared but a shade.</p>
+
+<p>Laidley stooped forward, his hands on his knees, his lips apart, his
+eyes dilated with terror.</p>
+
+<p>The veil slowly fell from the face of the spirit, and revealed,
+indistinctly as the negative of a photograph, a small thin woman with
+eager, restless eyes, and black hair rolled in puffs high on the head in
+the fashion of many years ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Virginie!" gasped Laidley.</p>
+
+<p>The captain shuddered, and hid his face. His daughter, with a quick step
+backward, threw aside the curtains and flung open the shutters. The
+broad daylight streamed in.</p>
+
+<p>Combe sprang toward her with an oath.</p>
+
+<p>The young girl held back the curtain steadily. "We need fresh air," she
+said smiling resolutely in his face.</p>
+
+<p>The rush of air, the daylight, the cheerful voice wakened the room as
+out of a vision of death. The men started to their feet; there was a
+tumult of voices and laughter; the materialized soul staggered back to
+reach the cabinet. The whole of the cheap trickery was bared: her hair
+was an ill-fitting wig, the chalk lay in patches on her face, the vapor
+of Hades was only salt burning in a dish: the boards removed from the
+window showed her snug hiding-place inside.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Dehr's fury made itself heard above the confusion: "You have brought
+Spiritualism into disrepute by your infernal imposture!" clutching the
+poor wretch by the shoulder, while another intemperate disciple called
+loudly for the police. The woman began to sob, but did not utter a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Let her go, doctor," said Mr. Waring, coming up. "We paid to see a
+farce, and it was really a very nice bit of acting. This poor girl was
+hired, no doubt: she is only earning her living."</p>
+
+<p>"What has she done?" cried Dehr. "Spiritualism in Philadelphia never has
+attracted the class of investigators that are here to-day, and she&mdash;"
+shaking her viciously&mdash;"she's an impostor!"</p>
+
+<p>"Damnation! she's a woman!" wrenching his hand from her. She gave Waring
+a keen furtive glance, and drew quickly aside. While some of the seekers
+after truth demanded their five dollars back with New England obstinacy,
+and Combe chattered and screeched at them, she stood in the middle of
+the room, immovable, her sombre sallow face set, her tawdry
+stage-properties about her&mdash;the crown of false black hair, the sweeping
+drapery, the smoking dish with fumes of ghastly vapor.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Waring went up to a short, broadly-built man in gray who had been
+seated in the background during the s&eacute;ance. "I did not know that you
+were in town or here, Mr. Neckart," he said with a certain marked
+respect. "That is not an unpicturesque figure, I think. She would serve
+as a study of Night, now&mdash;a stormy, muggy town-night, full of ooze and
+slime." Mr. Waring's manner and rhetoric were uneasy and deferential.
+Mr. Neckart was a power in a region quite outside of the little
+fastidious gossiping club of men and women whom he was wont to call the
+World.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Your Night, apparently, has little relish for the morning," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's threatening eyes, in fact, were fixed on the tall fair girl,
+the captain's daughter, who stood in the window, busied with buttoning
+her father's overcoat and pinning his empty sleeve to his breast. She
+was looking up at him, and talking: the wind stirred her loose pale-gold
+hair; behind her branches of white roses from a vine outside thrust
+themselves in at the window: the birds chirped in the rustling maples
+beyond.</p>
+
+<p>"What a wonderful effect of light and color!" said Waring, who had
+lounged through studios and galleries enough to enable him to parcel out
+the world into so many bits of palette and brush-work. "Observe the
+atmosphere of sunshine and youth. Cabanel might paint the girl's face
+for the Dawn. Eyes of that profound blue appear to hold the light
+latent."</p>
+
+<p>"There seems to be unusual candor in them," said Mr. Neckart, glancing
+carelessly at Jane again, and drawing on his gloves. "A lack of
+shrewdness remarkable in an American woman."</p>
+
+<p>"The Swendons are Swedes by descent, you know. A little phlegm, a lack
+of passion, is to be expected, eh? Now, my own taste prefers the
+American type&mdash;features animated by a nimbler brain; as there, for
+example," looking toward Miss Fleming. "Ugly beyond apology. But there
+is a subtle attraction in it."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt you are right. I really know very little about women,"
+indifferently. He nodded good-evening, glancing at his watch as he went
+out.</p>
+
+<p>The captain was conscious of some malignant influence at his back, and
+turning, saw the woman, who had gradually approached, and now stood
+still. He hastily stepped between her and his daughter: "Good God! Stand
+back, Jane! This woman is following you."</p>
+
+<p>"She looks as if she had the evil eye. But they are very fine eyes,"
+said the young girl, inspecting her quietly, as if she had been a toad
+that stood suddenly upright in her way.</p>
+
+<p>"I owe you an ill turn, and I shall pay it," said the woman with a
+tragic wave of the arms. "I had a way to support myself and my boy for
+a year, and you have taken it from me."</p>
+
+<p>"It was such a very poor way! Such a shabby farce! And it was my mother
+that&mdash;" She stopped, a slight tremor on the fair, quiet face.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I shall pay you!" The woman gathered her cheap finery about her and
+swept from the room.</p>
+
+<p>In the confusion Judge Rhodes had sought out Laidley, full of righteous
+wrath on behalf of his friend the captain, against this limp fellow who
+was going to enter heaven with a paltering apology for dishonesty on his
+lips. Laidley, however, was reclining in the easy-chair with his eyes
+closed, and the closed eyes gave so startling an appearance of death to
+the face that the judge was thrown back in his headlong charge. "Why,
+why, William! I'm sorry to see you looking so under the weather," he
+said kindly.</p>
+
+<p>Laidley's eyes began to blink: he smiled miserably: "It's too late to
+throw the blame on the weather, judge. Though I'm going back to Aiken
+next week. I came North too soon."</p>
+
+<p>"This affair has turned out a more palpable humbug than I expected,"
+trying to approach the point at issue by a gentle roundabout ascent. "I
+wish Van Ness had been here&mdash;Pliny Van Ness. There's a man whose advice
+I seek since I came to Philadelphia on all important matters. A man
+whose integrity, justice&mdash;God bless me, William! You must know Pliny Van
+Ness. Why don't you take his counsel, instead of meddling with these
+wretched mediums? Raising the dead to tell you what to do? Bah! If you
+had asked me, now&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Laidley had drawn himself up in the chair, his watery eyes gathering a
+faint eagerness: "Sit down. Here. I wish to speak to you, judge. Nobody
+will hear us."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. As you ask me now&mdash;I know the whole case. Don't try to talk:
+it only makes you cough. You want to say that the property&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to say nothing about the property. My will was made last week. I
+am determined to throw my means into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> that channel where it will best
+contribute to God's service. He will not scorn a late repentance. But
+Van Ness&mdash;it was about Van Ness I wanted to talk to you."</p>
+
+<p>"If your will was made last week, why did you try to bring back poor
+dead Virginie to advise you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Laidley, coughing nervously&mdash;"I don't know. I
+thought she would confirm me&mdash;I&mdash;I want to be just to her daughter, God
+knows!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is your idea of justice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why this&mdash;this," eagerly, catching the judge's red, fat hand in his
+cold fingers. "Jane will be a woman whom Van Ness would be apt to
+approve. I know he's fastidious. But she's very delicate and fair&mdash;as
+fine a bit of human flesh as I ever saw. As for mind, she has none. A
+mere child. He could mould her&mdash;mould her. Eh? I think I could throw out
+an inducement which would lead him to look favorably on her&mdash;when she's
+of a marriageable age, that is. If the girl were married to such a man
+as Van Ness, surely she would be well placed for life. Nobody could
+blame me for not making an heiress of her."</p>
+
+<p>"Jane? Van Ness?" said the judge thoughtfully. "Well, Van Ness is a man
+whom any woman in the country should be proud to marry. But he is
+impregnable to that sort of thing. And Jane is but a child, as you say.
+The scheme seems to me utterly unfeasible, Laidley. Besides, what has it
+to do with her claims on you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It has everything to do with them. I give her instead of money a home
+and husband such as no money can buy. They must be brought together,
+judge. You must do it. I have a word to say to Van Ness that will open
+his eyes to her merits. I will plant the seed, as I might say. It will
+grow fast enough."</p>
+
+<p>The judge was silent as he helped Laidley, still talking eagerly, down
+the stairs and into his carriage. The whole fantastic scheme was, as he
+saw, the cowardly device of the dying man to appease his conscience.
+That this poor creature should have any power to influence Van Ness, the
+purest and strongest of men, was a mere bit of braggadocio, which surely
+did not deceive even Laidley himself.</p>
+
+<p>But what could he do? To stab with reproach, even to argue with this
+nerveless, worn-out man, flaccid in mind and body, seemed to the kindly
+old fellow as cruel as to torture a dying fish or other cold-blooded
+creature of whose condition or capacity for suffering he could have no
+just idea.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Rebecca Harding Davis</span>.</p>
+
+<h4>[TO BE CONTINUED.]</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE SWEETENER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Spring blossom, rose of June and autumn-cluster<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Appeal alike unto the bloom of health,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In whose spontaneous, overflowing lustre<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is half the secret of the season's wealth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The pallid cheek may warm to apple-flushes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The fevered lip kiss fondly sweets of June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The languid palate leap to fruitage luscious,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet weary of their day before the noon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis laughing Health, with an unhindered fountain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of joy upbubbling from her being's core,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose lavish life embraces vale or mountain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And drains delight at every opened door.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i21"><span class="smcap">Mary B. Dodge</span>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+<h2>AN ENGLISH EASTER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It may be said of the English as is said of the council of war in
+Sheridan's farce of <i>The Critic</i> by one of the spectators of the
+rehearsal, that when they <i>do</i> agree their unanimity is wonderful. They
+differ among themselves greatly just now as regards the machinations of
+Russia, the derelictions of Turkey, the propriety of locking up the
+Reverend Arthur Tooth for his Romanizing excesses, the histrionic merits
+of Mr. Henry Irving, and a good many other matters; but neither just now
+nor at any other time do they fail to conform to those social
+observances on which Respectability has set her seal. England is a
+country of curious anomalies, and this has much to do with her being so
+interesting to foreign observers. The English individual character is
+very positive, very independent, very much made up according to its own
+sentiment of things, very prone to startling eccentricities; and yet at
+the same time it has beyond any other this peculiar gift of squaring
+itself with fashion and custom. In no other country, I imagine, are so
+many people to be found doing the same thing in the same way at the same
+time&mdash;using the same slang, wearing the same hats and cravats,
+collecting the same china-plates, playing the same game of lawn-tennis
+or of "polo," flocking into the same skating-rinks. The monotony of this
+spectacle would soon become oppressive if the foreign observer were not
+conscious of this latent capacity in the performers for the free play of
+character; he finds a good deal of entertainment in wondering how they
+reconcile the traditional insularity of the individual with this
+perpetual tribute to custom. Of course in all civilized societies the
+tribute to custom is being constantly paid; if it is less observable in
+America than elsewhere the reason is not, I think, because individual
+independence is greater, but because custom is more sparsely
+established. Where we have customs people certainly follow them; but for
+five American customs there are fifty English. I am very far from having
+discovered the secret; I have not in the least learned what becomes of
+that explosive personal force in the English character which is
+compressed and corked down by social conformity. I look with a certain
+awe at some of the manifestations of the conforming spirit, but the
+fermenting idiosyncrasies beneath it are hidden from my vision. The most
+striking example, to foreign eyes, of the power of custom in England is
+of course the universal church-going. In the sight of all England
+getting up from its tea and toast of a Sunday morning and brushing its
+hat and drawing on its gloves and taking its wife on its arm and making
+its offspring march before, and so, for decency's, respectability's,
+propriety's sake, making its way to a place of worship appointed by the
+State, in which it respects the formulas of a creed to which it attaches
+no positive sense and listens to a sermon over the length of which it
+explicitly haggles and grumbles,&mdash;in this great exhibition there is
+something very striking to a stranger, something which he hardly knows
+whether to pronounce very sublime or very puerile. He inclines on the
+whole to pronounce it sublime, because it gives him the feeling that
+whenever it may become necessary for a people trained in these
+man&oelig;uvres to move all together under a common direction, they will
+have it in them to do so with tremendous force and cohesiveness. We hear
+a good deal about the effect of the Prussian military system in
+consolidating the German people and making them available for a
+particular purpose; but I really think it not fanciful to say that the
+military punctuality which characterizes the English observance of
+Sunday ought to be appreciated in the same fashion. A nation which has
+passed through the mill will certainly have been stamped by it. And
+here, as in the German military<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> service, it is really the whole nation.
+When I spoke just now of paterfamilias and his <i>entourage</i> I did not
+mean to limit the statement to him. The young unmarried men go to
+church; the gay bachelors, the irresponsible members of society. (That
+last epithet must be taken with a grain of allowance. No one in England
+is irresponsible, that perhaps is the shortest way of describing the
+country. Every one is free and every one is responsible. To say what it
+is people are responsible to is of course a great extension of the
+question: briefly, to social expectation, to propriety, to morality, to
+"position," to the classic English conscience, which is, after all, such
+a considerable affair.)</p>
+
+<p>The way in which the example of the more comfortable classes imposes
+itself upon the less comfortable may of course be noticed in smaller
+matters than church-going; in a great many matters which it may seem
+trivial to mention. If one is bent upon observation nothing, however, is
+trivial. So I may cite the practice of keeping the servants out of the
+room at breakfast. It is the fashion, and so, apparently, through the
+length and breadth of England, every one who has the slightest
+pretension to standing high enough to feel the way the social breeze is
+blowing conforms to it. It is awkward, unnatural, troublesome for those
+at table, it involves a vast amount of leaning and stretching, of
+waiting and perambulating, and it has just that vice against which, in
+English history, all great movements have been made&mdash;it is arbitrary.
+But it flourishes for all that, and all genteel people, looking into
+each other's eyes with the desperation of gentility, agree to endure it
+for gentility's sake. Another arbitrary trifle is the custom of
+depriving the unhappy visitor of a napkin at luncheon. When it is
+observed that the English luncheon differs from dinner only in being
+several degrees more elaborate and copious, and that in the London
+atmosphere it is but common charity, at any moment, to multiply your
+guest's opportunities if not for ablution at least for a "dry polish,"
+it will be perceived that such eccentricities are the very wantonness
+and pedantry of fashion. But, as I say, they flourish, and they form
+part of an immense body of prescriptive usages, to which a society
+possessing in the largest manner, both by temperament and education, the
+sense of the "inalienable" rights and comforts of the individual,
+contrives to accommodate itself. I do not mean to say that usage in
+England is always uncomfortable and arbitrary. On the contrary, few
+strangers can be unfamiliar with that sensation (a most agreeable one)
+which consists in perceiving in the excesses of a custom which has
+struck us at first as a mere brutal invention, a reason existing in the
+historic "good sense" of the English race. The sensation is frequent,
+though in saying so I do not mean to imply that even superficially the
+presumption is against the usages of English society. It is not, for
+instance, necessarily against the custom of which I had it more
+especially in mind to speak in writing these lines. The stranger in
+London is forewarned that at Easter all the world goes out of town, and
+that if he has no mind to be left as lonely as Marius on the ruins of
+Carthage, he, too, had better make arrangements for a temporary absence.
+It must be admitted that there is a sort of unexpectedness in this
+vernal exodus of a body of people who, but a week before, were
+apparently devoting much energy to settling down for the season. Half of
+them have but lately come back from the country, where they have been
+spending the winter, and they have just had time, it may be supposed, to
+collect the scattered threads of town-life. Presently, however, the
+threads are dropped and society is dispersed, as if it had taken a false
+start. It departs as Holy Week draws to a close, and remains absent for
+the following ten days. Where it goes is its own affair; a good deal of
+it goes to Paris. Spending last winter in that city I remember how, when
+I woke up on Easter Monday and looked out of my window, I found the
+street covered, overnight, with a sort of snow-fall of disembarked
+Britons. They made, for other people, an uncomfortable week of it. One's
+customary table at the restaurant,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> one's habitual stall at the Th&eacute;&acirc;tre
+Fran&ccedil;ais, one's usual fiacre on the cab-stand, were very apt to have
+suffered pre-emption. I believe that the pilgrimage to Paris was this
+year of the usual proportions: and you may be sure that people who did
+not cross the Channel were not without invitations to quiet old places
+in the country, where the pale, fresh primroses were beginning to light
+up the dark turf and the purple bloom of the bare tree-mosses to be
+freckled here and there with verdure. In England country-life is the
+obverse of the medal, town-life the reverse, and when an occasion comes
+for quitting London there are few members of what the French call the
+"easy class" who have not a collection of dull, moist, verdant resorts
+to choose from. Dull I call them, and I fancy not without reason, though
+at the moment I speak of their dullness must have been mitigated by the
+unintermittent presence of the keenest and liveliest of east winds. Even
+in mellow English country homes Easter-tide is a period of rawness and
+atmospheric acridity&mdash;the moment at which the frank hostility of winter,
+which has at last to give up the game, turns to peevishness and spite.
+This is what makes it arbitrary, as I said just now, for "easy" people
+to go forth to the wind-swept lawns and the shivering parks. But nothing
+is more striking to an American than the frequency of English holidays
+and the large way in which occasions for change and diversion are made
+use of. All this speaks to Americans of three things which they are
+accustomed to see allotted in scantier measure. The English have more
+time than we, they have more money, and they have a much higher relish
+for holiday taking. (I am speaking of course always of the "easy
+classes.") Leisure, fortune and the love of sport&mdash;these things are
+implied in English society at every turn. It was a very small number of
+weeks before Easter that Parliament met, and yet a ten days' recess was
+already, from the luxurious Parliamentary point of view, a necessity. A
+short time hence we shall be having the Whitsuntide Holidays, which I am
+told are even more of a festival than Easter, and from this point to
+midsummer, when everything stops, it is an easy journey. The business
+men and the professional men partake in equal measure of these agreeable
+diversions, and I was amused at hearing a lady whose husband was an
+active member of the bar say that, though he was leaving town with her
+for ten days and though Easter was a very nice bit of idleness, they
+really amused themselves with more gusto in the later recess, which
+would come on toward the end of May. I thought this highly probable, and
+admired so picturesque a chiaroscuro of work and play. If my phrase has
+a slightly ironical sound this is purely accidental. A large appetite
+for holidays, the ability not only to take them but to know what to do
+with them when taken, is the sign of a robust people, and judged by this
+measure we Americans are rather ill-conditioned. Such holidays as we
+take are taken very often in Europe, where it is sometimes noticeable
+that our privilege is rather heavy in our hands. Tribute rendered to
+English industry, however (our own stands in no need of compliments), it
+must be added that for those same easy classes I just spoke of things
+are very easy indeed. The number of persons available for purely social
+purposes at all times and seasons is infinitely greater than among
+ourselves; and the ingenuity of the arrangements permanently going
+forward to disembarrass them of their superfluous leisure is as yet in
+America an undeveloped branch of civilization. The young men who are
+preparing for the stern realities of life among the gray-green cloisters
+of Oxford are obliged to keep their terms but one half the year; and the
+rosy little cricketers of Eton and Harrow are let loose upon the
+parental home for an embarrassing number of months. Happily the parental
+home is apt to be an affair of gardens, lawns and parks.</p>
+
+<p>Passion Week, in London, is distinctly an ascetic period; there is
+really an approach to sackcloth and ashes. Private dissipation is
+suspended; most of the theatres and music-halls are closed; the huge
+dusky city seems to take on a still sadder coloring and a sort of hush<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
+steals over its mighty uproar. At such a time, for a stranger, London is
+not cheerful. Arriving there, during the past winter, about
+Christmas-time, I encountered three British Sundays in a row&mdash;a
+spectacle to strike terror into the stoutest heart. A Sunday and a
+"bank-holiday," if I remember aright, had joined hands with a Christmas
+Day and produced the portentous phenomenon to which I allude. I
+betrayed, I suppose, some apprehension of its oppressive character, for
+I remember being told in a consolatory way that I needn't fear; it would
+not come round again for another year. This information was given me
+apropos of that surprising interruption of one's relations with the
+laundress which is apparently characteristic of the period. I was told
+that all the washerwomen were drunk, and that, as it would take them
+some time to revive, I must not look for a speedy resumption of these
+relations. I shall not forget the impression made upon me by this
+statement; I had just come from Paris and it almost sent me spinning
+back. One of the incidental <i>agr&eacute;ments</i> of life in the latter city had
+been the knock at my door on Saturday evenings of a charming young woman
+with a large basket covered with a snowy napkin on her arm, and on her
+head a frilled and fluted muslin cap which was an irresistible
+advertisement of her art. To say that my admirable <i>blanchisseuse</i> was
+<i>sober</i> is altogether too gross a compliment; but I was always grateful
+to her for her russet cheek, her frank, expressive eye, her talkative
+smile, for the way her charming cap was poised upon her crisp, dense
+hair and her well-made dress was fitted to her well-made waist. I talked
+with her; I <i>could</i> talk with her; and as she talked she moved about and
+laid out her linen with a delightful modest ease. Then her light step
+carried her off again, talking, to the door and with a brighter smile
+and an "Adieu, monsieur!" she closed it behind her, leaving one to think
+how stupid is prejudice and how poetic a creature a washerwoman may be.
+London, in December, was livid with sleet and fog, and against this
+dismal background was offered me the vision of a horrible old woman in
+a smoky bonnet, lying prone in a puddle of whisky! She seemed to assume
+a kind of symbolic significance, and she almost frightened me away.</p>
+
+<p>I mention this trifle, which is doubtless not creditable to my
+fortitude, because I found that the information given me was not
+strictly accurate and that at the end of three months I had another
+array of London Sundays to face. On this occasion however nothing
+occurred to suggest again the dreadful image I have just sketched,
+though I devoted a good deal of time to observing the manners of the
+lower orders. From Good Friday to Easter Monday, inclusive, they were
+very much <i>en &eacute;vidence</i>, and it was an excellent occasion for getting an
+impression of the British populace. Gentility had retired to the
+background and in the West End all the blinds were lowered; the streets
+were void of carriages and well-dressed pedestrians were rare; but the
+"masses" were all abroad and making the most of their holiday, and I
+strolled about and watched them at their gambols. The heavens were most
+unfavorable, but in an English "outing" there is always a margin left
+for a drenching, and throughout the vast smoky city, beneath the
+shifting gloom of the sky the grimy crowds trooped about with a kind of
+weather-proof stolidity. The parks were full of them, the railway
+stations overflowed and the Thames embankment was covered. The "masses,"
+I think, are usually an entertaining spectacle, even when observed
+through the glutinous medium of London bad weather. There are indeed few
+things in their way more impressive than a dusky London holiday; it
+suggests a variety of reflections. Even looked at superficially the
+British capital is one of the most interesting of cities, and it is
+perhaps on such occasions as this that I have most felt its interest.
+London is ugly, dusky, dreary, more destitute than any European city of
+graceful and decorative incident; and though on festal days, like those
+I speak of, the populace is massed in large numbers at certain points,
+many of the streets are empty enough of human life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> to enable you to
+perceive their intrinsic hideousness. A Christmas Day or a Good Friday
+uncovers the ugliness of London. As you walk along the streets, having
+no fellow-pedestrians to look at, you look up at the brown brick
+house-walls, corroded with soot and fog, pierced with their straight
+stiff window-slits and finished, by way of a cornice, with a little
+black line resembling a slice of curb-stone. There is not an accessory,
+not a touch of architectural fancy, not the narrowest concession to
+beauty. If I were a foreigner it would make me rabid; being an
+Anglo-Saxon I find in it what Thackeray found in Baker street&mdash;a
+delightful proof of English domestic virtue, of the sanctity of the
+British home. There are miles and miles of these edifying monuments, and
+it would seem that a city made up of them should have no claim to that
+larger effectiveness of which I just now spoke. London, however, is not
+made up of them; there are architectural combinations of a statelier
+kind, and the impression moreover does not rest on details. London is
+picturesque in spite of details&mdash;from its dark-green, misty parks, the
+way the light comes down leaking and filtering from its cloudy skies,
+and the softness and richness of tone which objects put on in such an
+atmosphere as soon as they begin to recede. Nowhere is there such a play
+of light and shade, such a struggle of sun and smoke, such a&euml;rial
+gradations and confusions. To eyes addicted to the picturesque this is a
+constant entertainment, and yet this is only part of it. What completes
+the effect of the place is its appeal to the feelings, made in so many
+ways, but made above all by agglomerated immensity. At any given point
+London looks huge; even in narrow corners you have a sense of its
+hugeness, and petty places acquire a certain interest from their being
+parts of so mighty a whole. Nowhere, else is so much human life gathered
+together and nowhere does it press upon you with so many suggestions.
+These are not all of an exhilarating kind; far from it. But they are of
+every possible kind, and this is the interest of London. Those that were
+most forcible during the showery Easter season were certain of the more
+perplexing and depressing ones; but even with these was mingled a
+brighter strain.</p>
+
+<p>I walked down to Westminster Abbey on Good Friday afternoon&mdash;walked from
+Piccadilly across the Green Park and through St. James's Park. The parks
+were densely filled with the populace&mdash;the elder people shuffling about
+the walks and the poor little smutty-faced children sprawling over the
+dark damp turf. When I reached the Abbey I found a dense group of people
+about the entrance, but I squeezed my way through them and succeeded in
+reaching the threshold. Beyond this it was impossible to advance, and I
+may add that it was not desirable. I put my nose into the church and
+promptly withdrew it. The crowd was terribly compact and, beneath the
+Gothic arches, the odor was not that of incense. I slowly eliminated
+myself, with that very modified sense of disappointment that one feels
+in London at being crowded out of a place. This is a frequent
+disappointment, for you very soon find out that there are, selfishly
+speaking, too many people. Human life is cheap; your fellow-mortals are
+too plentiful. Whereever you go you make the observation. Go to the
+theatre, to a concert, to an exhibition, to a reception; you always find
+that, before you arrive, there are people enough on the field. You are a
+tight fit in your place wherever you find it; you have too many
+companions and competitors. You feel yourself at times in danger of
+thinking meanly of the human personality; numerosity, as it were,
+swallows up quality, and such perpetual familiarity contains the germs
+of contempt. This is the reason why the perfection of luxury in England
+is to own a "park"&mdash;an artificial solitude. To get one's self into the
+middle of a few hundred acres of oak-studded turf and to keep off the
+crowd by the breadth, at least, of this grassy cincture, is to enjoy a
+comfort which circumstances make peculiarly precious. But I walked back
+through the parks in the midst of these "circumstances," and I found
+that entertainment which I never fail to derive from a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> English
+assemblage. The English are, to my eyes, so much the handsomest people
+in Europe that it takes some effort of the imagination to believe that
+the fact requires proof. I never see a large number of them without this
+impression being confirmed; though I hasten to add that I have sometimes
+felt it to be woefully shaken in the presence of a small number. I
+suspect that a great English crowd would yield a larger percentage of
+handsome faces and figures than any other. With regard to the upper
+class I imagine this is generally granted; but I should extend it to the
+whole people. Certainly, if the English populace strike the observer by
+their good looks they must be very good-looking indeed. They are as
+ill-dressed as their betters are well-dressed, and their garments have
+that sooty-looking surface which has nothing in common with some forms
+of ragged picturesqueness. It is the hard prose of misery&mdash;an ugly and
+hopeless imitation of respectable attire. This is especially noticeable
+in the battered and bedraggled bonnets of the women, which look as if
+their husbands had stamped on them in hobnailed boots, as a hint of what
+is in store for their wearers. Then it is not too much to say that
+two-thirds of the London faces, among the "masses," bear in some degree
+or other the traces of liquor, which is not a beautifying fluid. The
+proportion of flushed, empurpled, eruptive countenances is very
+striking; and the ugliness of the sight is not diminished by the fact
+that many of the faces thus disfigured were evidently once handsome. A
+very large allowance is to be made, too, for the people who bear the
+distinctive stamp of that physical and mental degradation which comes
+from the slums and purlieus of this dusky Babylon&mdash;the pallid, stunted,
+misbegotten and in every way miserable figures. These people swarm in
+every London crowd, and I know of none in any other place that suggest
+an equal degree of misery. But when these abatements are made, the
+observer is still liable to be struck by the frequency of well-modeled
+faces and bodies well put together; of strong, straight brows and
+handsome mouths and noses, of rounded, finished chins and well-poised
+heads, of admirable complexions and well-disposed limbs.</p>
+
+<p>All this, I admit, is a description of the men rather than of the women;
+but to a certain extent it includes the women. There is much more beauty
+among English women of the lower class than strangers who are accustomed
+to dwell upon their "coarseness" recognize. Pretty heads, pretty mouths
+and cheeks and chins, pretty eyes too, if you are content with a
+moderate brilliancy, and at all events charming complexions&mdash;these seem
+to me to be presented in a very sufficient abundance. The capacity of an
+Englishwoman for being handsome strikes me as unlimited, and even if (I
+repeat) it is in the luxurious class that it is most freely exercised,
+yet among the daughters of the people one sees a great many fine points.
+Among the men fine points are strikingly numerous&mdash;especially among the
+younger ones. Now the same distinction is to be made&mdash;the gentlemen are
+certainly handsomer than the vulgarians. But taking one young Englishman
+with another, they are physically very well appointed. Their features
+are finished, composed, as it were, more harmoniously than those of many
+of their nearer and remoter neighbors, and their figures are apt to be
+both powerful and compact. They present to view very much fewer
+accidental noses and inexpressive mouths, fewer sloping shoulders and
+ill-planted heads of hair, than their American kinsmen. Speaking always
+from the sidewalk, it may be said that as the spring increases in London
+and the symptoms of the season multiply, the beautiful young men who
+adorn the West-End pavements, and who advance before you in couples,
+arm-in-arm, fair-haired, gray-eyed, athletic, slow-strolling, ambrosial,
+are among the most brilliant features of the brilliant period. I have it
+at heart to add that if the English are handsomer than ourselves, they
+are also very much uglier. Indeed I think that all the European peoples
+are uglier than the American; we are far from producing those
+magnificent types of facial eccentricity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> which flourish among older
+civilizations. American ugliness is on the side of physical poverty and
+meanness; English on that of redundancy and monstrosity. In America
+there are few grotesques; in England there are many&mdash;and some of them
+are almost handsome!</p>
+
+<p>The element of the grotesque was very noticeable to me in the most
+striking collection of the shabbier English types that I had seen since
+I came to London. The occasion of my seeing them was the funeral of Mr.
+George Odger, which befell some four or five weeks before the Easter
+period. Mr. George Odger, it will be remembered, was an English radical
+agitator, of humble origin, who had distinguished himself by a perverse
+desire to get into Parliament. He exercised, I believe, the useful
+profession of shoemaker, and he knocked in vain at the door that opens
+but to golden keys. But he was a useful and honorable man, and his own
+people gave him an honorable burial. I emerged accidentally into
+Piccadilly at the moment they were so engaged, and the spectacle was one
+I should have been sorry to miss. The crowd was enormous, but I managed
+to squeeze through it and to get into a hansom cab that was drawn up
+beside the pavement, and here I looked on as from a box at the play.
+Though it was a funeral that was going on I will not call it a tragedy;
+but it was a very serious comedy. The day happened to be
+magnificent&mdash;the finest of the year. The funeral had been taken in hand
+by the classes who are socially unrepresented in Parliament, and it had
+the character of a great popular "manifestation." The hearse was
+followed by very few carriages, but the cort&eacute;ge of pedestrians stretched
+away in the sunshine, up and down the classic gentility of Piccadilly,
+on a scale that was highly impressive. Here and there the line was
+broken by a small brass band&mdash;apparently one of those bands of itinerant
+Germans that play for coppers beneath lodging-house windows; but for the
+rest it was compactly made up of what the newspapers call the dregs of
+the population. It was the London rabble, the metropolitan mob, men and
+women, boys and girls, the decent poor and the indecent, who had
+scrambled into the ranks as they gathered them up on their passage, and
+were making a sort of solemn spree of it. Very solemn it all
+was&mdash;perfectly proper and undemonstrative. They shuffled along in an
+interminable line, and as I looked at them out of the front of my hansom
+I seemed to be having a sort of panoramic view of the under side, the
+wrong side, of the London world. The procession was filled with figures
+which seemed never to have "shown out," as the English say, before; of
+strange, pale, mouldy paupers who blinked and stumbled in the Piccadilly
+sunshine. I have no space to describe them more minutely, but I found in
+the whole affair something memorable. My impression rose not simply from
+the radical, or as I may say for the sake of color, the revolutionary,
+emanation of this dingy concourse, lighted up by the ironical sky; but
+from the same causes that I had observed a short time before, on the day
+the queen went to open Parliament, when in Trafalgar Square, looking
+straight down into Westminster and over the royal cort&eacute;ge, were gathered
+a group of banners and festoons, inscribed in big staring letters with
+mottoes and sentiments which a sensitive police-department might easily
+have found seditious. They were mostly in allusion to the Tichborne
+claimant, whose release from his dungeon they peremptorily demanded, and
+whose cruel fate was taken as a pretext for several sweeping reflections
+on the social arrangements of the time and country. These portentous
+standards were allowed to sun themselves as freely as if they had been
+the manifestoes of the Irish Giant or the Oriental Dwarf at a fair. I
+had lately come from Paris, where the police-department <i>is</i> sensitive,
+and where revolutionary placards are not observed to adorn the base of
+the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. I was, therefore, the more
+struck on both of the occasions I speak of with the admirable English
+practice of letting people alone&mdash;with the good sense and the good humor
+and even the good promise of it. It was this that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> found impressive as
+I watched the "manifestation" of Mr. Odger's underfed partisans&mdash;the
+fact that the mighty mob could march along and do its errand, while the
+excellent quiet policemen stood by simply to see that the channel was
+kept clear and comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>When Easter Monday came it was obvious that every one (save Mr. Odger's
+friends&mdash;three or four million or so) had gone out of town. There was
+hardly a pair of shutters in the West End that was not closed; there was
+not a bell that it was any use to pull. The weather was detestable, the
+rain incessant, and the fact that all one's friends were away gave one
+plenty of leisure to reflect that the country must be the reverse of
+enlivening. But all one's friends had gone thither (this is the
+unanimity I began by talking about), and to keep down as much as
+possible the proportions of that game of hide-and-seek of which, at the
+best, so much of London social life consists, it seemed wise to bring
+within the limits of the dull season any such excursion as one might
+have projected in commemoration of the first days of spring. After due
+cogitation I paid a little visit to Canterbury and Dover, taking
+Rochester by the way, and it was of this momentous journey that I
+proposed, in beginning these remarks, to give an account. But I have
+dallied so much by the way that I have come almost to my rope's end
+without reaching my first stage. I should have begun, artistically, by
+relating that I put myself in the humor for remote adventure by going
+down the Thames on a penny steamboat to&mdash;the Tower! This was on the
+Saturday before Easter and the City was as silent as the grave. The
+Tower was a memory of my childhood, and having a theory, that from such
+memories the dust of the ages had better not be shaken, I had not
+retraced my steps to its venerable walls. But the Tower is very
+good&mdash;much less cockneyfied than I supposed it would seem to my maturer
+vision; very vast and grand, historical and romantic. I could not get
+into it, as it had been closed for Passion Week, but I was thus relieved
+from the obligation to march about with a dozen fellow-starers in the
+train of a didactic beef-eater, and I strolled at will through the
+courts and the garden, sharing them only with the lounging soldiers of
+the garrison, who made the place more picturesque. At Rochester I
+stopped for the sake of its castle, which I spied from the
+railway-train, perched on a grassy bank beside the widening Medway.
+There were other reasons as well; the place has a small cathedral, and
+one has read about it in Dickens, who lived during the latter years of
+his life at Gadshill, a couple of miles from the town. All this Kentish
+country, between London and Dover, figures indeed repeatedly in Dickens;
+he is to a certain extent, for our own time, the <i>genius loci</i>. I found
+this to be quite the case at Rochester. I had occasion to go into a
+little shop kept by a talkative old woman who had a photograph of
+Gadshill lying on her counter. This led to my asking her whether the
+illustrious master of the house often made his appearance in the town.
+"Oh, bless you, sir," she said, "we every one of us knew him to speak
+to. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday with a party of
+foreigners&mdash;as he was dead in his bed on the Friday. He 'ad on his black
+velvet suit, and it always made him look so 'andsome. I said to my
+'usband, 'I <i>do</i> think Charles Dickens looks so nice in that black
+velvet suit.' But he said he couldn't see as he looked any way
+particular. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday, with a party of
+foreigners." Rochester consists of little more than one long street,
+stretching away from the castle and the river toward neighboring
+Chatham, and edged with low brick houses, of intensely provincial
+aspect, most of which have some small, dull quaintness of gable or
+casement. Nearly opposite to the shop of the old lady with the
+dissentient husband is a little dwelling with an inscribed slab set into
+its face, which must often have provoked a smile in the great master of
+laughter. The slab relates that in the year 1579 Richard Watts here
+established a charity which should furnish "six poor travelers, not
+rogues or proctors," one night's lodging and entertainment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> gratis and
+four pence in the morning to go on their way withal, and that in memory
+of his "munificence" the stone has lately been renewed. The inn at
+Rochester was poor, and I felt strongly tempted to knock at the door of
+Mr. Watts's asylum, under plea of being neither a rogue nor a proctor.
+The poor traveler who avails himself of the testamentary four pence may
+easily resume his journey as far as Chatham without breaking his
+treasure. Is not this the place where little Davy Copperfield slept
+under a cannon on his journey from London to Dover, to join his aunt,
+Miss Trotwood? The two towns are really but one, which forms an
+interminable crooked thoroughfare, crowded, in the dusk, as I measured
+it up and down, with specimens of the British soldier from the large
+garrison at Chatham; those trim and firmly-pacing red-coats who seem, to
+eyes accustomed to the promiscuous continental levies, so picked and
+disciplined, polished and pomatumed, such ornamental and yet after all,
+such capable warriors.</p>
+
+<p>The cathedral at Rochester is small and plain, hidden away in rather an
+awkward corner, without a verdant close to set it off. It is dwarfed and
+effaced by the great square Norman keep of the adjacent castle. But
+within it is very charming, especially beyond the detestable wall, the
+vice of almost all the English cathedrals, which shuts in the choir and
+breaks that long vista so properly of the very essence of a great
+church. Here, as at Canterbury, you ascend a high range of steps to pass
+through the small door in this wall. When I speak slightingly, by the
+way, of the outside of Rochester cathedral, I intend my faint praise in
+a relative sense. If we were so happy as to possess this inferior
+edifice in America, we should go barefoot to see it; but here it stands
+in the great shadow of Canterbury, and that makes it humble. I remember,
+however, an old priory gateway which leads you to the church, out of the
+main street; I remember something in the way of a quiet, weird deanery
+or canonry, at the base of the eastern walls; I remember a fluted tower
+that took the afternoon light and let the rooks and the swallows come
+circling and clamoring around it. Better than these things, however, I
+remember the ivy-draped mass of the castle&mdash;a most noble and imposing
+ruin. The old walled precinct has been converted into a little public
+garden, with flowers and benches, and a pavilion for a band, and the
+place was not empty, as such places in England never are. The result is
+agreeable, but I believe the process was barbarous, involving the
+destruction and dispersion of many interesting portions of the ruin. I
+sat there for a long time, however, looking in the fading light at what
+was left. This rugged pile of Norman masonry will be left when a great
+many solid things have departed; it is a sort of satire on destruction
+or decay. Its walls are fantastically thick; their great time-bleached
+expanses and all their rounded roughnesses, their strange mixture of
+softness and grimness, have an indefinable fascination for the eye.
+English ruins always come out peculiarly when the day begins to fade.
+Weather-bleached, as I say they are, they turn even paler in the
+twilight and grow consciously solemn and spectral. I have seen many a
+mouldering castle, but I remember no single mass of ruin more impressive
+than this towering square of Rochester.</p>
+
+<p>It is not the absence of a close that damages Canterbury; the cathedral
+stands amid grass and trees, with a great garden sweep all round it, and
+is placed in such a way that, as you pass out from under the gate-house,
+you appreciate immediately its grand feature&mdash;its extraordinary and
+magnificent length. None of the English cathedrals seems more
+beautifully isolated, more shut up to itself. It is a long walk beneath
+the walls from the gateway of the close to the far outer end of the last
+chapel. Of all that there is to observe in this upward-gazing stroll I
+can give no detailed account; I can speak only of the general
+impression. This is altogether delightful. None of the rivals of
+Canterbury have a more complicated and elaborate architecture, a more
+perplexing intermixture of periods, a more charming jumble of Norman
+arches and English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> points and perpendiculars. What makes the side-view
+superb, moreover, is the double transepts, which produce a fine
+modification of gables and buttresses. It is as if two great churches
+had joined forces toward the middle&mdash;one giving its nave and the other
+its choir, and each keeping its own great cross-aisles. Astride of the
+roof, between them, sits a huge Gothic tower, which is one of the latest
+portions of the building, though it looks like one of the earliest, so
+crumbled and blunted and mellowed is it by time and weather. Like the
+rest of the structure it has a magnificent color&mdash;a sort of rich dull
+yellow, a something that is neither brown nor gray. This is particularly
+appreciable from the cloister on the farther side of the church&mdash;the
+side, I mean, away from the town and the open garden-sweep I spoke of;
+the side that looks toward a damp old deanery lurking behind a brown
+archway, through which you see young ladies in Gainsborough hats playing
+something on a patch of velvet turf; the side, in short, that is somehow
+intermingled with a green quadrangle which serves as a play-ground to a
+King's School, which is adorned externally with a most precious and
+picturesque old fragment of Norman staircase. This cloister is not "kept
+up;" it is very dusky and mouldy and dilapidated, and of course very
+picturesque. The old black arches and capitals are various and handsome,
+and in the centre are tumbled together a group of crooked gravestones,
+themselves almost buried in the deep soft grass. Out of the cloister
+opens the chapter-house, which is not kept up either, but which is none
+the less a magnificent structure; a noble lofty hall, with a beautiful
+wooden roof, simply arched like that of a tunnel, and very grand and
+impressive from its great sweep and its absence of columns, brackets or
+supports of any kind. The place is now given up to dust and echoes; but
+it looks more like a banqueting-hall than a council-room of priests, and
+as you sit on the old wooden bench, which, raised on two or three steps,
+runs round the base of the four walls, you may gaze up and make out the
+faint, ghostly traces of decorative paint and gold upon the noble
+ceiling. A little patch of this has been restored, "to give an idea."
+From one of the angles of the cloister you are recommended by the verger
+to take a view of the great tower, which indeed detaches itself with
+tremendous effect. You see it base itself upon the roof as broadly as if
+it were striking roots in earth, and then pile itself away to a height
+which seems to make the very swallows dizzy, as they fall twittering
+down its shafted sides. Within the cathedral you hear a great deal, of
+course, about poor Thomas A'Becket, and the great sensation of the place
+is to stand on the particular spot where he was murdered and look down
+at a small fragmentary slab which the verger points out to you as a bit
+of the pavement that caught the blood-drops of the struggle. It was late
+in the afternoon when I first entered the church; there had been a
+service in the choir, but it was well over and I had the place to
+myself. The verger, who had some pushing about of benches to attend to,
+turned me into the locked gates and left me to wander through the
+side-aisles of the choir and into the great chapel beyond it. I say I
+had the place to myself; but it would be more decent to affirm that I
+shared it, in particular, with another gentleman. This personage was
+stretched upon a couch of stone, beneath a quaint old canopy of wood;
+his hands were crossed upon his breast and his pointed toes rested upon
+a little griffin or leopard. He was a very handsome fellow and the image
+of a gallant knight. His name was Edward Plantagenet and his sobriquet
+was the Black Prince. "<i>De la mort ne pensai-je mye</i>," he says in the
+beautiful inscription embossed upon the bronze base of his image; and I
+too, as I stood there, thought not a whit of death. His bones were in
+the pavement beneath my feet, but within his rigid bronze his life
+burned fresh and strong. Simple, handsome and expressive, it is a
+singularly striking and even touching monument, and in the silent, empty
+chapel which had held together for so many ages this last remnant of his
+presence it was possible to feel a certain personal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> nearness to him.
+One had been farther off, after all, from other examples of that British
+valor of which he is the most picturesque type. In this same chapel for
+many a year stood the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury, one of the
+richest and most potent in Christendom. The pavement which lay before it
+has kept its place, but Henry VIII. swept everything else away into the
+limbo of his ransacked abbeys and his murdered wives. Becket was
+originally buried in the crypt of the church; his ashes lay there for
+fifty years, and it was only little by little that his martyrdom was, as
+the French say, "exploited." Then he was transplanted into the Lady
+Chapel; every grain of his dust became a priceless relic and the
+pavement was hollowed by the knees of pilgrims. It was on this errand of
+course that Chaucer's story-telling cavalcade came to Canterbury. I made
+my way down into the crypt, which is a magnificent maze of low, dark
+arches and pillars, and groped about till I found the place where the
+frightened monks had first shuffled the inanimate victim of Moreville
+and Fitzurse out of the reach of further desecration. While I stood
+there a violent thunder-storm broke over the cathedral; great rumbling
+gusts and rain-drifts came sweeping through the open sides of the crypt,
+and, mingling with the darkness which seemed to deepen and flash in
+corners, and with the potent mouldy smell, made me feel as if I had
+descended into the very bowels of history. I emerged again, but the
+rain had settled down and spoiled the evening, and I splashed back to my
+inn and sat in a chair by the coffee-room fire, reading Dean Stanley's
+agreeable "Memorials" of Canterbury, and wondering over the musty
+appointments and meagre resources of English hostels. This establishment
+had entitled itself (in compliment to the Black Prince, I suppose), the
+"Fleur-de-Lis." The name was very pretty (I had been foolish enough to
+let it take me to the inn), but the lily was sadly deflowered. I found
+compensation at Dover, however, where the "Lord Warden" Hotel struck me
+as the best inn I had encountered in England. My principal errand at
+Dover was to look for Miss Betsey Trotwood's cottage, but I am sorry to
+say I failed to discover it. Was it not upon the downs, overlooking the
+town and the sea? I saw nothing on the downs but Dover Castle, which, in
+default of Miss Trotwood's stronghold, I zealously visited. It is an
+establishment of quite the same character, bristling with offensive and
+defensive machinery. More seriously speaking, it is a magnificent
+fortress&mdash;a bequest of the Middle Ages turned to excellent account by
+modern engineers. The day was clear and beautiful, and I walked about
+for a while among the towers and the grassy bastions; then I stood and
+gossiped with an amiable gunner who talked to me of Malta, leaning
+against the rampart and looking across the wrinkled sea to the
+glimmering cliffs of France.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Henry James, Jr</span>.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE ELIXIR.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh brew me a potion strong and good!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One golden drop in his wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall charm his sense and fire his blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bend his will to mine."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Poor child of passion! ask of me<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Elixir of death or sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or Lethe's stream; but love is free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And woman must wait and weep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i11"><span class="smcap">Emma Lazarus</span>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+<h2>L&Eacute;ONIE REGNAULT: A STUDY FROM FRENCH LIFE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>In the pretty town of Macon, on the banks of the Sa&ocirc;ne, lived L&eacute;onie
+Regnault. She remembered no other home than the gray stone house with
+its balconied windows that overlooked the beautiful river and the long,
+somewhat formal promenades that stretch along its banks, with their
+green trees and many seats, but never a blade of grass&mdash;all dry,
+hard-beaten gravel, after the ugly French fashion, convenient enough, it
+must be confessed, for the evening loungers, gay or tired, whom the dewy
+green of Nature might incommode.</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie's father lived in Paris, and he had brought her when only three
+years old to the gray stone house and the care of his only sister,
+Madame Perrin, a childless widow, who gladly received the beautiful
+little girl to the large shelter of a loving heart. But L&eacute;onie never
+forgot her father. The little creature would sit on her low-cushioned
+chair and sing to herself, "Mon beau papa! mon beau papa! O comme je
+t'aime, mon beau papa!" I suppose every tender father appears beautiful
+to his little child, but Colonel Regnault was indeed a strikingly
+handsome man, with a perfect grace and dignity of manner which rendered
+him indispensable to the court of Louis Napoleon, where he had a
+prominent position on all days of ceremony. Once or twice a year he made
+his escape from court duties for a brief visit to L&eacute;onie, whose love for
+him grew more intense with years, concentrating in itself all the
+romance of her enthusiastic nature.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Perrin saw few visitors, and scarcely ever went out except to
+mass. Every morning her good Louise took L&eacute;onie to the girls' school in
+the old stone mansion which had once been the home of Lamartine, and
+went every evening to conduct her home again. Of course, L&eacute;onie had her
+inseparable friend, as what school-girl has not, and few lovers are so
+devoted to each other as were L&eacute;onie Regnault and H&eacute;l&egrave;ne Dupr&egrave;s. They
+sat side by side every day in school, and out of school wrote each other
+long letters, of which they were generally themselves the bearers. Life
+seems so rich and inexhaustible when it is new&mdash;the merest nothing has
+its poem and history. They had made their first communion together,
+which was the most important incident hitherto in L&eacute;onie's uneventful
+life. Her father had come down on this occasion, and when she came from
+the altar he had put aside her white veil and kissed her with tears in
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie had completed her fifteenth year when she was thrown into great
+excitement by an unexpected piece of news. Her father was about to
+marry. The future Madame Regnault was a young widow of good family and
+large fortune. He had taken this step, he said, for L&eacute;onie's sake even
+more than for his own. He wished to have his daughter with him and to
+cultivate her talents; and how could this be done without a home in
+Paris? The marriage would take place early in September, and the first
+week in October he would come for L&eacute;onie. He looked forward with delight
+to having a home for his beautiful beloved child.</p>
+
+<p>It was the last week in September. The rain was falling in a dull dreary
+way, as it had been falling all day and almost a week of days.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish it would clear up," said L&eacute;onie. "I hate to have everything look
+so dreary just the last week I have to stay."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you ever think, ch&eacute;rie, how dull it will be for me when you are
+gone? What shall I do without ma ch&egrave;re petite?" asked Madame Perrin
+tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>"And what shall I do without you, ch&egrave;re maman? I am afraid I shall not
+like the new mamma that papa has given me. Or perhaps I am only afraid
+that she will not like me. You are my real mother," taking her hand
+caressingly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> "I wish I could remember my own mother. Why have you never
+told me anything about her? I have asked you so many times."</p>
+
+<p>"I never was acquainted with your mother. She lived in Paris, you know,
+and I lived here."</p>
+
+<p>"But you have seen her. Was she beautiful? Am I like her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Madame Perrin with a little start&mdash;"so much like her that it
+frightens me." Then more deliberately, in reply to L&eacute;onie's astonished
+eyes, "I mean that it is sad to be reminded of one who is dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Papa must have loved her very much. I remember when I was a little
+girl, and began to wonder why I had not a mother like H&eacute;l&egrave;ne, you said I
+must never ask papa about her, it would give him so much pain. But now I
+may, now that he has given her place to somebody else."</p>
+
+<p>"By no means, L&eacute;onie&mdash;less than ever. If your poor father has at last
+succeeded in leaving his sorrow behind him, do you wish to drag him back
+to it, you thoughtless child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must tell me yourself, ma tante. It is very strange that you
+are so unwilling to tell me anything about my pretty mother who died
+when I was almost a baby."</p>
+
+<p>"Why will you be so persistent? I do not like to give you so much pain."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, dear aunt, I shall like to hear about her. It is very sad not to
+have any mother, but I can't feel as distressed about it as if I had
+known and loved her. She is only a beautiful dream to me. I cannot feel
+as I should if you were to die and leave me. You must tell me. I shall
+not let you have any peace till you do. You can't refuse me now, just
+when I am going away."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if I must, I must," said Madame Perrin with trembling voice.
+"What do I know? It may be for your salvation. The Blessed Virgin grant
+it! Your mother, L&eacute;onie, was a great beauty."</p>
+
+<p>"I was sure of it. If I could only have seen her with my dear papa! He
+is so handsome always."</p>
+
+<p>"She was a great singer too."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad of it. I shall be a singer when I have learned in Paris. I
+care more for the lessons in singing than for anything else in the great
+beautiful city, except being with my own papa."</p>
+
+<p>"But, L&eacute;onie, your mother sang in the Grand Opera. She was the best
+singer in France, or in the world perhaps, and everybody was crazy about
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"And so papa married an opera-singer? It is quite a romance."</p>
+
+<p>"He did not marry her."</p>
+
+<p>"Not marry her?" said L&eacute;onie with white face and great black, wide-open
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"She was married already to one of the singers in the opera, and she
+left him to live with your father."</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie's white lips shaped rather than uttered the question, "What did
+he do, the husband?"</p>
+
+<p>"He challenged your father, and, though he was so much his inferior,
+L&eacute;on was too generous to hurt his feelings by refusing to fight with him
+after doing him such an injury. He was so good a swordsman that he
+easily disarmed him with only a slight wound."</p>
+
+<p>"This is terrible!" said L&eacute;onie. "My father such a wicked man!"</p>
+
+<p>"That is not the way the world looked at it. All the men envied L&eacute;on,
+and the women flattered and spoiled him more than ever."</p>
+
+<p>"I hate my father!" cried L&eacute;onie with quick, passionate sobs. "No wonder
+my poor mother died. I shall be her avenger: I feel it."</p>
+
+<p>"You do not know what you are saying. Your mother avenged herself. She
+deserted him as she deserted her husband, and you too, my poor child,
+when you were just learning to say 'Mamma.' Poor L&eacute;on! he sinned, but he
+suffered too. Be merciful to him, L&eacute;onie, as you pray God to be merciful
+to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Is my mother alive?" asked L&eacute;onie, shivering.</p>
+
+<p>"No: she died three years ago. Your father never would see her again,
+but when he heard that she was sick and in want (she had entirely lost
+her wonderful voice), he gave her an annuity because she was your
+mother. Father Aubrey used to see her from time to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> time, and he said
+she was truly penitent before she died."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what shall I do? I shall never be happy again&mdash;never, never! What
+made you tell me? How could you?" said poor L&eacute;onie, wringing her little
+hands and burying her face in the cushions.</p>
+
+<p>"My child, you would hear it sooner or later in that great, wicked city,
+and it is better that you should be prepared. You are beautiful like
+your mother, you will sing like her, and I am so afraid&mdash;" here the poor
+little woman broke down and began to cry like L&eacute;onie, but less
+violently&mdash;"I am so afraid that you will go on the stage and be tempted
+and fall like her. Promise me that you will never sing in the opera,
+L&eacute;onie, no matter who urges it, even if it is your father himself."</p>
+
+<p>"I will die first," answered L&eacute;onie. "I wish I had never been born."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell your father, L&eacute;onie," sobbed Madame Perrin; and here the
+conversation ended.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with L&eacute;onie?" asked Colonel Regnault the night after
+his arrival. "She looks so pale and languid, and hardly gives me a
+welcome. What ails the child?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has not been quite well for a few days, and I dare say she feels
+sad at leaving H&eacute;l&egrave;ne and me," replied his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"She'll brighten up when she gets to Paris," said the colonel.</p>
+
+<p>The sorrow of early youth, however violent, is seldom proof against new
+impressions, and this was especially true of one so susceptible and
+mobile as L&eacute;onie Regnault. She entered enthusiastically upon her musical
+studies, taking lessons of Madame Viardot and also at the Conservatoire.
+Madame Regnault was a sweet and quiet woman, devotedly attached to her
+husband, and not a little afraid of him. Colonel Regnault, with all his
+urbanity, had a despotic will, extending to the most minute and
+seemingly indifferent things: he was just the kind of man to graduate a
+gentle, loving woman into a saint. The only time I ever dined with
+Madame Regnault I was forced to eat under the cold steel of his clear
+blue eye a plate of those small red shrimps which Parisians think so
+delicious (I could have swallowed spiders with as little effort), and
+afterward quaff a cup of black coffee with its cap of blue flame, which
+reminded me of "Deacon Giles's Distillery," in spite of protest and
+direful headache <i>in terrorem</i>; and the colonel thought he was polite to
+me. He chose all madame's gowns: the poor little woman did not venture
+to buy even a ribbon for herself; and from having been one of the most
+elegant women in Paris, she grew at length almost dowdyish; not but that
+her garments were as fresh and as costly as ever, but the brilliant
+colors and conspicuous styles which had suited the opera-singer, and
+which heightened the beauty of L&eacute;onie, extinguished the delicate color
+and soft blue eyes of Madame Regnault, and were so little in harmony
+with her person and character as to have almost the effect of a discord
+in music.</p>
+
+<p>A year passed, and her heart was made glad by a dear little son, who was
+named L&eacute;on for his father. The little fellow was six weeks old, and his
+mother had scarcely left the nursery, which was a bit of heaven to her,
+when Colonel Regnault startled her from her dream of bliss: "I have
+found just the nurse for the baby, the wife of a small farmer who lives
+close to Rosny Station. She will wean her child and take him. She is
+such a fresh, healthy-looking woman, and everything is so clean and tidy
+in her cottage, that you will be delighted with her, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, L&eacute;on, may I not nurse him myself? I cannot give him up to anybody.
+Who will take so good care of my little precious darling as his own
+mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is not to be thought of, Cl&eacute;mence: it would wear you out. See, you
+are crying now: it shows how weak and nervous you are. Besides, L&eacute;onie
+needs you. She is losing already, for nobody plays her accompaniments so
+well as you, and I do not like to have her go to the Conservatoire with
+a bonne when it can be helped: a girl so striking is likely to be
+watched and followed. I never feel safe about her unless you are with
+her. Don't be silly: the baby will be better off in the country."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Madame Regnault was very kind to L&eacute;onie: it was impossible for her to be
+otherwise to any one. She was devoted to her for her father's sake: she
+felt a thrill of delight in her beauty, in her wonderful talents; but
+she did not love her. She might have loved her perhaps&mdash;though there was
+not much in common between the ardent, high-spirited girl and the
+gentle, patient woman, except, indeed, the taste for music&mdash;but it is
+not in nature, and hardly in grace, for a woman thirsting for her
+husband's love to like being always postponed to some one else. Colonel
+Regnault seemed to have no perception of anything but his beautiful
+daughter: his ambition was centred in her even more than his affection.
+L&eacute;onie's talent developed rapidly, and his pride was fed by the praises
+of her masters and the more flattering compliments of friends and
+connoisseurs who were present at the musical soir&eacute;es given from time to
+time at his own house.</p>
+
+<p>But L&eacute;onie did not contribute to the peace of the household. Her aunt
+had not found it out, Madame Regnault never would have discovered it,
+but her father's despotic will roused one equally defiant in her, and
+when they came in contact it was the collision of flint and steel.
+L&eacute;onie often carried her point against her father, and he admired her
+only the more for it. The contests were quick and sharp&mdash;not very
+frequent, but very unpleasant to Madame Regnault. She grew thin and pale
+and spiritless. She was not yet thirty, and she had aged by half a score
+of years in the year and a half of her marriage.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother, Madame Dumesnil, was indignant at what she considered the
+colonel's neglect of his wife, and mentally threatened to give him "a
+piece of her mind." She had not long to wait for an occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry to see Cl&eacute;mence looking so ill," said she to him as he
+entered his wife's dressing-room one day a little before breakfast&mdash;that
+is to say, about noon.</p>
+
+<p>"I had not noticed that she was ailing," he rejoined with a quick glance
+at his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"It is well that somebody has eyes," continued Madame Dumesnil. "I did
+not expect that my daughter was to become a governess when she married
+you. Her previous life had not prepared her for such arduous duties."</p>
+
+<p>"My wife does not complain," said the colonel haughtily.</p>
+
+<p>"Cl&eacute;mence complain! She would not complain if she suffered martyrdom."
+Madame Regnault looked imploringly at her mother, but she went on more
+sternly than before: "If Cl&eacute;mence had a spark of spirit she would never
+have had L&eacute;onie in the house. It is a shame for her to be made a slave
+to the opera-singer's girl, and I am not the only one who thinks so."</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, madame," responded her son-in-law, "the conversation is too
+exciting for me. I have the honor to wish you a good-morning;" and he
+bowed himself out with the most exasperating courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother, what have you done?" cried Madame Regnault, trembling and
+tearful. "How could you make him so angry?"</p>
+
+<p>"How <i>could</i> I, indeed! I wish I were his wife a little while: he
+wouldn't find it so easy to tyrannize over me. I don't know where you
+got your disposition from: you didn't take it from me, that's certain."</p>
+
+<p>"Jacques," said Colonel Regnault to the porter as he left the house,
+"when Madame Dumesnil calls to see your mistress hereafter, let me know
+it, and remember that I am never at home."</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie, though she felt a certain hardness in the manner of Madame
+Dumesnil when she happened to meet her, was wholly unaware of what was
+passing in the heart of Madame Regnault, who had a genuine sympathetic
+interest in the development of her remarkable powers, playing her
+accompaniments unweariedly for hours daily and giving her the benefit of
+her own delicate and highly-cultivated taste. They were happy years for
+L&eacute;onie. Her young soul, full of the inspiration and power of genius,
+felt its wings growing. There is an atmosphere of art in Paris which is
+powerfully stimulating to any one of &aelig;sthetic tendencies;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> and how
+exhilarating was this subtle atmosphere to L&eacute;onie! The Conservatoire,
+with its seventy professors and its thousand students, its competitions,
+concerts and public exercises, stimulated her zeal and inspired ever
+higher ideals that made close, hard study the play of her fresh and
+delighted faculties. Once a week her father took her to the opera. It
+happened that the first opera she heard was <i>Faust</i>, and she sat as if
+in a dream, white and scared, seeming to see in the scenes the spectre
+of her mother. But this impression wore away, and ere many weeks had
+passed her heart dilated, her eyes kindled with the triumphs of the
+singer, and she felt as Correggio when he looked on Raphael's <i>St.
+Cecilia</i> and exclaimed, "I, too, am a painter!"</p>
+
+<p>Thus the days went on, not too slowly, till L&eacute;onie had entered her
+nineteenth year and approached the close of her studies. The finest
+concerts of Paris and the most exclusive are those of the Conservatoire,
+six in number, which occur once a fortnight from the middle of January
+to the middle of April. L&eacute;onie had often sung in the small concert-hall
+at examinations and private exercises, but now she was to sing in the
+Salle de Spectacle for the celebrated Soci&eacute;t&eacute; des Concerts. This
+wonderful company is composed mostly of the professors and teachers at
+the Conservatoire, and it is a rare honor for a pupil to sing or play at
+these concerts; but L&eacute;onie was a rare pupil, and whatever may be said of
+the jealousy of artists, I hold that true genius always exults in the
+recognition of genius. L&eacute;onie sang in each of the six concerts of her
+last year at the Conservatoire, and her singing gave exquisite delight
+to the appreciative listeners: the applause was heart-felt,
+enthusiastic, inspiring. But on the last night her father's rapture and
+pride reached their height. The beautiful concert-hall, so refined and
+classic with its Pompeii-like decorations, was filled with the most
+brilliant audience of a most brilliant city. The symphony had ended, and
+L&eacute;onie was to sing some selections from the opera of <i>Fidelio</i>. The
+applause which greeted her as she advanced on the stage was perhaps a
+tribute to her superb beauty and perfect grace. She was paler than
+usual, her large black eyes were full of that intense light which only
+emotion gives, but she showed no embarrassment, and felt none. She saw
+not the faces, heard not the plaudits. She was alone with her art. Her
+soul went forth into the song, and one listened in rapture, touched with
+pain that aught so sweet should be so evanescent. When the wonderful
+voice seemed to die like a vanishing soul there was silence for a
+moment&mdash;silence most eloquent of eulogies&mdash;and then came a burst of
+applause, the most enthusiastic that ever relieved a listener's heart or
+charmed a singer's ear.</p>
+
+<p>The concert ended. Her father, proud and exultant, clasped her in his
+arms. Did he hear the whispers that L&eacute;onie's quick ear caught? "Colonel
+Regnault's daughter, the opera-singer's child. You remember that old
+story?"&mdash;"Ah, indeed! Wonderfully like her mother: more distinguished
+manner. Something of her father too. Will Regnault let her go on the
+stage, do you think?"&mdash;"I cannot tell. Il est fou d'elle. He brings her
+up in his own family."&mdash;"Vraiment? Good wife, Madame Regnault." L&eacute;onie
+shrank involuntarily from her father's embrace.</p>
+
+<p>The competitive examinations came, and naturally L&eacute;onie received the
+highest prize in singing.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not envy you, mademoiselle," said one of the unsuccessful
+candidates with a look and tone that accentuated the sneer: "there are
+other things that people inherit besides their musical talents."</p>
+
+<p>"There will be plenty of spitefulness for your children to inherit,
+whether there is any talent or not," retorted L&eacute;onie, her eyes flashing
+with resentful pride. It was the first time that any one had
+deliberately alluded to the taint upon her birth, and it stung.</p>
+
+<p>"I have something to tell you," said her father to L&eacute;onie a few days
+after. "The director of the opera has been talking to me about you. He
+is only waiting for my consent to bring you out at the Imperial Opera."</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie's face lighted up with a quick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> gleam of surprise and pleasure,
+which was followed by a sudden terror.</p>
+
+<p>"You may think it strange that I felt any reluctance: you are so young
+that you do not know enough of society to appreciate the objections. Not
+that there are any insuperable objections. In an art-loving community
+like ours the career of a great artist is prouder than a queen's."</p>
+
+<p>The color had faded from L&eacute;onie's face, but her father did not notice
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"The empress condescended to speak to me about it to-day. Her Majesty
+has the welfare of the opera very much at heart, and, as she says, one
+is responsible for a talent like yours. It is the rarest of gifts. Why
+not consecrate it to the elevation of art and the delight of the world?
+A vocation for art is as sacred as one for religion, and it would be
+almost a crime in me to hold you back from so manifest a destiny as
+yours. Well, what have you to say, child?" and he looked full into his
+daughter's pale, agitated face. "It is too much for you, my darling: you
+are quite overcome. Think it over and tell me to-morrow night." And he
+kissed her trembling lips with unusual emotion.</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie went to her room, but not to sleep. How short was that sleepless
+night, with its whirl of conflicting resolutions, its torrent of
+emotion, its ceaseless panorama of dissolving views! Opera after opera
+unrolled in magical splendor before her eyes, resounded in bursts of
+harmony in her ears and flowed in waves of delicious sweetness into her
+heart. And in all she was queen, and hearts rose and fell at her bidding
+as the ocean-waves beneath the strong and sweet compelling of the moon.
+It was intoxication, but underlying it was the deep satisfaction of a
+soul that has found the true outlet of its highest powers. "All the
+current of her being" surged and eddied into this one career that opened
+so invitingly before her. But she could not say "I will," though she
+wished to do so. The glories faded and another vision came. Her mother
+seemed to lie before her, dying, forsaken, remorseful, sinful. Was it
+her mother? was it herself? "Art thou stronger than I?" asked the
+voiceless lips.&mdash;"Yea, I am stronger," replied the soul of L&eacute;onie. And
+then a sudden revelation of incipient vanities and weaknesses and pride
+flashed across her consciousness as in the great light of God. L&eacute;onie
+shrank away self-abased. "Did my worship of art, which I thought so
+holy, hide all this?" she questioned.</p>
+
+<p>The morning light came faintly through the curtained windows. L&eacute;onie
+rose, dressed herself quickly, and calling a bonne went to the Madeleine
+to early mass. After mass she entered the confessional of the
+white-haired father who had been her spiritual guide for the three years
+and a half of her life in Paris. On her return she locked herself into
+her room and passed the day alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my girl," inquired her father in the evening, "what am I to tell
+the director? Have you chosen the opera for your d&eacute;but already?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never sing in the opera, father."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what is this, L&eacute;onie? If I have got over my scruples, I do not see
+that you need have any. I thought it would be just what you were longing
+for."</p>
+
+<p>"I do long for it," said L&eacute;onie firmly, "and therefore I think it is not
+best."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak in riddles," rejoined her father angrily. "Do you
+mean to tell me that you are going to throw away your glorious
+possibilities&mdash;certainties, I might say&mdash;for a whim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not for a whim, but because it is right."</p>
+
+<p>"It is incomprehensible!" cried the colonel, walking the floor
+excitedly. "Here have you been for years in one rhapsody of music,
+nothing else in life&mdash;your mother and I and everything given up to help
+you on&mdash;and now, when such a prospect opens before you, a career that a
+princess might envy, when even the empress condescends to solicit
+it&mdash;'No, I am not going to sing. I'll throw it all away&mdash;my talent, my
+father's wishes.' Oh, it is insufferable! It is just like the perverse
+willfulness of women;" and he turned upon her in a white rage.</p>
+
+<p>L&eacute;onie did not quail. "Father," said she, speaking very low, but with
+crystal clearness, "do you wish me to be like my mother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Colonel Regnault staggered back. "My poor child," he whispered faintly,
+"who told you that story? Who could have the heart?"</p>
+
+<p>The next day L&eacute;onie, with her father's permission, went to Macon to
+spend some weeks with her aunt. Soon after her departure Madame Regnault
+asked, "Now that L&eacute;onie is gone, cannot we have the children home?"</p>
+
+<p>"We will bring L&eacute;on home," replied her husband. "He is a fine little
+fellow, and will make the house cheerful, but the baby will be better
+off in the country a year longer. We will have him in for a few days if
+you like, and the nurse can come with him."</p>
+
+<p>"I will go out this very afternoon," said the mother. "Jeanne will go
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, my dear, it is too hard a jaunt for you: I will go to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me go, L&eacute;on: I feel so uneasy about the children. I cannot tell
+why, but it seems as if something was going to happen to them."</p>
+
+<p>"What could happen to them? and what difference will a day make? I am
+glad I am not a woman, to be so anxious about nothing," said the
+colonel, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>About eleven o'clock on the morrow the colonel reached Rosny, and was
+startled as he approached the house by an appearance of unusual stir,
+persons going in and out in a hurried and excited way. He entered. The
+nurse rushed toward him in vehement anguish: "Oh, Colonel Regnault, you
+are here! John has told you. Where is he? Did he not return with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen your husband, good woman. What is the matter? Are the
+children ill? I came out for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I cannot tell him! I cannot tell him!" sobbed the unhappy woman.
+"The dear beautiful babies! It breaks my heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"May God help you to bear it, sir: it is a heavy grief," said an aged
+woman. "The little boys are dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead!" cried the heartstricken father&mdash;"my children dead! One of them,
+you mean&mdash;not both, not both!"</p>
+
+<p>It was true. The baby, a dear little fellow six or seven months old,
+had had for several days a cold which the nurse did not think serious:
+during the night he had been attacked by croup, and about eight o'clock
+in the morning, almost before the doctor had arrived, the child was
+dead. Absorbed in the grief and terror of this sudden death, the nurse
+forgot to mind L&eacute;on, and the restless, active child slipped out of the
+house unheeded, and, playing on the railway-track, had been killed by a
+passing train not an hour before his father came for him.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Regnault's grief was violent and remorseful. "I have killed my
+children," he would say to his pitying friends. "If I had but listened
+to my wife and had them brought up at home! What is the croup with a
+watchful, intelligent mother, and a skillful physician at the very door?
+and how could any accident have happened to L&eacute;on here? So many idle
+servants in my house, and my own child to die for lack of care!"</p>
+
+<p>Madame Regnault never knew how L&eacute;on died. The little body was not
+mangled: it had been caught and thrown aside by something attached to
+the engine&mdash;I do not know exactly how&mdash;and the mother was left to
+believe that he had died of sickness like the baby. She bore her sorrow
+with the still meekness consonant with her character, and with wifely
+tenderness exerted herself to soothe her husband's violent grief.</p>
+
+<p>A little later in the summer the war broke out. Colonel Regnault went
+gladly, even rashly, into danger, and found neither death nor wounds,
+but in his anguish for the desolation of his country he made a truce
+with his own remorse.</p>
+
+<p>The last time I was in Paris&mdash;which was in 1874&mdash;General and Madame
+Regnault called on me at my old friend's, Madame Le Fort's. A charming
+little girl about three years old was with them, a blue-eyed,
+fair-haired child&mdash;very beautiful, and as much like her father as a
+little girl can be like a man approaching fifty. I was not surprised to
+see that she was, as her mother said, "une petite fille g&acirc;t&eacute;e." I
+inquired for L&eacute;onie.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you believe that L&eacute;onie has not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> been in Paris since you saw her
+here?" replied her father. "She is a thorough little provincial. She has
+been married more than a year now."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I congratulate you! I hope her marriage was pleasing to you," I
+added, as he did not respond immediately.</p>
+
+<p>"Assez. Her husband is a very worthy young man for a
+provincial&mdash;Th&eacute;ophile Dupr&egrave;s, the brother of a little school-friend of
+hers. I went down to the wedding, not to grieve L&eacute;onie, but I shall
+never be reconciled to it&mdash;never! To think what that girl threw away!
+Such talent! and to have it lost, utterly lost! It is inexplicable.
+Every motive that could influence a girl on the one hand, and&mdash;But I
+give it up. Let us not talk of it," he concluded with a little wave of
+his hand, as if dismissing L&eacute;onie and all that pertained to her.</p>
+
+<p>But I could not turn my thoughts from her so quickly. Even now, when I
+am, so to speak, in another world, she causes me not a little
+perplexity. Was she right? was she wrong? Can one ever be happy in
+suppressing a great talent? How it strives and agonizes for some
+manifestation of itself! and when it slowly dies, stifled in its living
+grave, must not one feel a bitter regret for having slain the nobler
+part of one's self?</p>
+
+<p>But is it not heresy to doubt that a woman can sacrifice genius for
+love, and be content&mdash;yea, glad&mdash;with an infinite joy? And why not have
+love and genius too? Alas! most lives are opaque planets, like the earth
+on which they are evolved, and can have only one bright side at a time.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Regnault was little changed: she preserved the old sweet
+gentleness and quiet refinement of manner, but she seemed more at ease
+with her husband, and did not watch so timidly his least gesture.
+Colonel&mdash;or rather General&mdash;Regnault had changed more. He had grown
+quite gray: he was still a handsome, high-bred gentleman, with the same
+exquisite urbanity of manner, but the disappointment of his ambition for
+L&eacute;onie, the anguish which had smitten him for his children's death, and
+the great calamity which had almost crushed France, the idol of every
+Frenchman, had softened and humanized him. He was less like an Apollo
+exulting in his own divinity; and when I marked his tender
+thoughtfulness for his wife, his unwonted appreciation of her lovely
+character, and especially his indulgence of the caprices of little
+Aim&eacute;e, who was almost always his companion, I was ready to believe in
+his entire conversion.</p>
+
+<p>But can the Ethiopian change his skin? One morning Madame Le Fort's
+little dressmaker came rushing in in a very excited way: "Mon Dieu! I am
+so glad to get here! Quel homme terrible!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" asked madame.</p>
+
+<p>"I have just been trying on Madame Regnault's new costume, the gray
+faille and velvet, you know, that she selected when she came with you.
+It is a charming costume, and she looked sweetly in it. The general came
+in before I got through. 'Do you call that a costume?' he asked in a
+passion. 'It makes her look like a fright. Take it away: never let me
+see it again.' Poor little madame hurried me to get it off. 'Take it
+away! out of the house with it!' cried he as if he were commanding a
+regiment of dragoons.&mdash;'I can't take it away,' said I. 'It was made to
+order&mdash;madame selected it herself&mdash;and you cannot expect me to take it
+back.' I was frightened to death, but I couldn't lose the money, you
+know. The window was open: he seized the unlucky costume, and giving it
+a little whirl, sent it flying out of the window over the balustrade.
+Madame was going to send her maid for it, but no; the wind caught it,
+and away it went out of the court, and where it lighted or who picked it
+up is more than I know, or madame either. It may be a fine thing to be a
+general's wife, but I'd rather be a dressmaker."</p>
+
+<p>And the little dressmaker laughed till she cried to think of madame's
+handsome costume sailing out of the window over the Avenue Haussmann,
+and lighting like a balloon on the head of some lucky or luckless
+passer-by.</p>
+
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Mary E. Blair</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PRIMARY AND SECONDARY EDUCATION IN FRANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>For a long period, France, with her ancient university and her venerable
+scholastic institutions&mdash;which after the Renaissance drew to themselves
+the flower of the youth of Europe&mdash;may be said to have led the way as
+regards general education. It has only been in modern times that the
+progress made by the Anglo-Saxon and German nations has placed, at all
+events, primary instruction in France somewhat in the rear of other
+countries. As for her system of secondary and superior education, it has
+even within the last few years elicited many expressions of approval
+from foreigners competent to form a judgment on the subject. In the
+following pages we propose giving a succinct account of the actual
+system and position of primary and secondary education in France,
+speaking of what has been done since the close of the war in 1871, and
+of what yet remains to be done.</p>
+
+
+<h3>PRIMARY EDUCATION.</h3>
+
+<p>The great crying evil in France is the lack of education among the
+poorer classes, who nevertheless, by the democratic constitution of
+their country, are called upon, together with the rich and the middle
+classes, to take their share in the government. This evil is recognized
+in France, and each fresh Assembly meets at Versailles with the
+determination of having primary schools built and of having every child
+taught at least to read and write. But these good intentions are
+terribly hampered by the all-absorbing military appropriations, which,
+swallowing up some 500,000,000 francs annually, do not allow the
+ministers and deputies, well disposed as they are, to appropriate to the
+education of all France a sum much exceeding that expended by the single
+State of Pennsylvania in the same cause. Still, the acknowledgment of
+the existence of the evil is in itself a great step toward remedying it,
+and the France of to-day is making progress in this respect. Before the
+last war, instead of saying with Terence,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>the French citizen might rather have cried, "I am a <i>Frenchman</i>, and
+that which is not French is foreign to me." A salutary reaction has set
+in since the war, and nothing is more common than to hear Frenchmen
+observe that their country was conquered not by Moltke or Krupp, but
+rather by the German <i>Schullehrer</i>.</p>
+
+<p>We shall not enter into the merits of the long-standing dispute in
+France as to the superiority of secular or of clerical education. The
+parable of the mote and the beam might probably be applicable to both
+parties, but no impartial observer can fail to recognize that the
+triumph of Romanism in France, consequent upon the Revocation of the
+Edict of Nantes, has formed one of the chief obstacles to the
+development of public education in that country. Huss, Luther,
+Calvin&mdash;in a word, all the leaders of the Reformation&mdash;inculcated the
+sacred duty devolving upon every man of reading the Bible for himself in
+his own tongue. Hence we now find education far more advanced in
+Protestant than in Catholic countries&mdash;a fact which has not a little
+contributed to the decadence of the Latin races. Richelieu, who held
+that a hungry people was the most submissive, was also of opinion that
+an ignorant people obeyed the most readily. Louis XIV. and Louis XV.,
+without saying as much, acted up to the cardinal's maxim, doing
+absolutely nothing for popular education. The instruction of the upper
+classes was at that time in the hands of religious societies or
+<i>congr&eacute;gations</i>. The Revolution, displaying its usual iconoclastic zeal,
+upset this system, without reflecting for a moment that it might be as
+well to substitute some other system for it, and that it takes time to
+organize a body of teachers fit to undertake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> such a work. The
+Convention decreed that those parents should be punished who did not
+send their children to school, overlooking the fact that there were no
+schools to send them to. It proclaimed gratuitous instruction, but made
+no provision for the salaries of the teachers. These hastily instituted
+reforms were eminently characteristic of the feverish excitement amidst
+which matters affecting the most serious interests of the nation were
+disposed of. The First Empire and the Restoration saw but little done on
+behalf of primary education. Under Louis Philippe the question of
+gratuitous instruction and compulsory attendance got no farther,
+notwithstanding the fact of such men being in power as Victor Cousin,
+Villemain and Guizot.</p>
+
+<p>The efforts of Jules Simon and of Barth&eacute;lemy Saint-Hilaire to have the
+question settled by the Republican government in 1848 proved futile.
+Napoleon III., having found 44,000 schools in France at the commencement
+of his reign, left it with 54,000 at its close&mdash;a most insignificant
+rate of increase, as regards primary instruction, compared with the
+advances made in the same direction by foreign nations, and with the
+material progress of France itself during those eighteen eventful years.
+The Third Republic has, as was observed above, given to the question of
+education a prominent place among the reforms to be instituted. Scarcely
+had the most pressing financial and military questions been dealt with
+ere a searching examination into the educational system of the country
+was undertaken and its defects laid bare. In a report on primary and
+secondary education in different countries, read by M. Levasseur before
+the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences on the 29th of May, 1875, he
+establishes the fact that out of forty-five nations whose educational
+statistics he had examined, France only occupies the twentieth
+place&mdash;naturally a somewhat humiliating admission for a nation which has
+claimed to be the centre and radiating-point of modern civilization.</p>
+
+<p>The map on which the departments figure tinged with black
+proportionately with the illiteracy of their inhabitants is in mourning
+to a most lamentable extent. It might be taken for the geological map of
+Pennsylvania, with the coal-regions indicated by black patches; and most
+assuredly the Lehigh Valley would appear no darker on such a map than
+does on the chart of ignorance the unfortunate department of the Ari&eacute;ge,
+with 66 per cent. of its inhabitants absolutely illiterate. Happily,
+since this map was issued matters have somewhat mended; nevertheless,
+the lack of appreciation of the benefits of education is still very
+noticeable in a large number of the departments.</p>
+
+<p>The village schools are kept up by the communes, aided by contributions
+from the department and from the government. The total annual amount of
+the contributions from these three sources does not exceed 65,000,000
+francs for the whole of France. Deduct from this paltry sum of
+$13,000,000 a certain quota for the construction and keeping in repair
+of school-houses, and it will at once be seen that what remains to be
+divided among the 54,000 teachers is scarcely sufficient to afford them
+even the barest subsistence. The recent reduction of school-teachers'
+salaries throughout the United States has given rise to much unfavorable
+comment, but happy indeed would teachers in France consider themselves
+were they to receive even anything approaching the reduced pay of their
+Transatlantic brethren. Of the school-teachers above spoken of, 26,000
+receive 750 francs ($150) per annum, 14,000 receive 550 francs, and
+10,000 but 450 francs, or less than the common farm-laborer, who has at
+least food and lodging provided for him by his master. True it is that
+many of the teachers receive a slight additional salary for acting as
+secretary at the <i>mairie</i>; but a much larger number of them have to eke
+out a scanty subsistence by manual labor during certain hours of the
+day, especially in harvest-time.</p>
+
+<p>As for the school-houses, they are usually in such a dilapidated
+condition that the farmers would scarcely care to use them as
+cattle-sheds. We have visited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> schools&mdash;and they exist by the score, not
+to say by the hundred&mdash;without either benches or desks, blackboard or
+maps, and through the roofs of which the rain poured on teachers and
+pupils. On entering one of these schools and seeing the little fellows
+in their torn blouses, their feet simply encased in great wooden sabots,
+their lunch-baskets with coarse bread and a few nuts by their side, the
+stranger can hardly realize that he is in that country where there is a
+more even distribution of property, and where the peasantry are more
+prosperous and conservative, than anywhere else. Among the efforts made
+to improve things may be mentioned the frequent inspections, not only by
+government inspectors, but also by gentlemen called <i>d&eacute;l&eacute;gu&eacute;s
+cantonaux,</i> who are usually chosen from among the landed proprietary of
+the neighborhood by the prefects.</p>
+
+<p>"Paris is not France," is a remark frequently uttered by French
+conservatives, and one which certainly holds good as regards education.
+The department of the Seine actually expends some $6,000,000 annually on
+education, which is something over 46 per cent. of the total expenditure
+for all France under this head. Considering that the population of the
+department of the Seine does not exceed 2,400,000, it will be seen that
+the expenditure there for educational purposes is not inferior to that
+of our own representative States. At the Vienna Exhibition of 1873 it
+may be recollected that Paris, conjointly with Saxony and Sweden, was
+awarded the diploma of honor for primary instruction. This branch of
+education is absolutely gratuitous, and, in view of the experience of
+other countries, is likely to remain so, in spite of the outcry that
+parents able to contribute toward the education of their offspring
+should be compelled to do so. Ink, paper, pens, books, models and maps
+are supplied free of charge to each pupil. During 1876 not less than
+330,000 books, 1,490,000 copy-books and 1,440,000 steel pens were thus
+supplied in the primary schools of the capital. In Paris there are some
+260,000 children of both sexes old enough to go to school. Of this
+number, 104,000 get some kind of education, either at home or at the
+boarding-schools, and 134,000 attend the public schools&mdash;either under
+secular or clerical management&mdash;and the <i>salles d'asile</i>, of which we
+shall presently speak. The great capital thus contains some 22,000
+children who cannot read or write, and this will account for the fact of
+the educational status of the department of the Seine being inferior to
+that of many of the eastern departments, and occupying a far lower place
+on the list than might otherwise have been expected. Up to the age of
+two years the infants of parents too poor to watch over their offspring
+in the daytime are admitted into the <i>cr&egrave;ches</i>. In these admirable
+private institutions&mdash;founded some thirty years ago by M. Marbeau&mdash;the
+infants are washed, fed and tended with maternal solicitude. Between the
+ages of two and six years the children are admitted into the <i>salles
+d'asile</i>, or children's homes, of which there are over a hundred in
+Paris. There it is first sought to develop the child's intellectual
+faculties, prepare it for school, inculcate habits of cleanliness and
+morality, and instruct it in the rudiments of reading and writing.
+Between the ages of six and fourteen children are admitted into the
+schools, and, nominally at least, go through the plan of study drawn up
+by the board of primary education, and which is as follows: Reading,
+writing, geography, spelling, arithmetic, compendium of sacred and
+French history, linear drawing, singing, the rudiments of physics,
+geometry and natural history, and calligraphy. Were this programme
+carried out in its integrity, education in France would, it need hardly
+be said, be considerably further advanced than it is at present. Even in
+Paris, however, the material obstacles are not slight. Most of the
+schools are far too cramped for space, especially in those wealthy and
+crowded parts of the city between the Rue de Rivoli and the Boulevards,
+for instance, where every foot of ground and every breathing-space are
+worth large sums of money. In a city where the people are so closely
+packed, and where a family is content to live on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> a flat, how is room to
+be found for spacious, airy school-buildings, with a detached seat and
+desk for each pupil, a large central hall and a play-ground adjoining?
+Such establishments must inevitably cost immense sums of money, but
+Paris, if we may judge by the annual increase in the educational
+appropriations, seems determined not to let this difficulty stand in the
+way of her children obtaining a good education.</p>
+
+<p>A word as to the teachers. The female lay teachers are, it must be
+acknowledged, very greatly inferior to the lady teachers in the United
+States. It is said that in England when a man has failed at everything
+else he becomes a coal-merchant. We should not dream of applying this
+remark to French ladies as regards school-teaching. At the same time, it
+is an established fact that the French girls' schools which are managed
+by nuns, and especially those of the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, are
+far above the other female educational establishments. Most of the male
+lay teachers are appointed from the primary normal schools which exist
+in the chief town of every department; and it is a noteworthy fact that
+the majority of them are ardent Republicans, notwithstanding the fact
+that during the Empire every effort was made to win them over to the
+imperial side. In every normal and primary school was the bust of
+Napoleon, and a liberal distribution took place of the famous <i>Journal
+des Instituteurs</i>, every paragraph of which, political or educational,
+was dressed up in Napoleonic attire. Possibly, some of the lay primary
+school-teachers may have adopted republicanism out of a spirit of
+natural opposition to their old adversaries and competitors, the
+<i>instituteurs congr&eacute;ganistes</i>. Of these, too, a word must be said. While
+in the secondary clerical schools most of the instructors are Jesuits,
+in the primary schools most of the teachers belong to the confraternity
+of the <i>&Eacute;cole Chr&eacute;tienne</i>, the members of which, without taking the vows
+and assuming a lifelong engagement, agree nevertheless to remain single,
+to submit to the discipline of the society and to wear the
+ecclesiastical dress. Strict Ultramontanists, these brethren have been
+somewhat unjustly nicknamed the <i>fr&egrave;res Ignorantins</i>. Living as they do
+in common, with but few wants, and receiving, whenever they require it,
+pecuniary aid from the wealthy party to which they belong, they are
+satisfied with a rate of pay less than one-half that of the lay
+teachers, and are thus preferred in a large number of communes on the
+simple ground of economy. Their plan of instruction is the same as that
+adopted in the secular primary schools, except that religious
+instruction and exercises of course play a larger part with them than
+with their lay brethren. The ultra radicals, who in a large measure
+control the educational appropriations in the town-council, are bitterly
+opposed to any portion of the public instruction remaining in the hands
+of the clerical element, and their most strenuous efforts are used to
+have all these <i>congregational</i> schools of both sexes closed. They would
+concentrate the entire national educational system under the control of
+a body of lay teachers to be paid by the towns and by the state. In
+these views they are supported by the Republican party, while the clergy
+have on their side the majority of the Senate. Whether the absence of
+clerical competition would be likely to prove advantageous or not to the
+secular educational establishments, we shall not attempt to say, but
+certain it is that the long continuance of this bitter feud between the
+two parties has been anything but conducive to the educational progress
+of France.</p>
+
+<p>At the age of fourteen the Parisian youth not intended for one of the
+learned professions leaves school to learn a trade. Should he desire to
+increase his stock of knowledge and have a taste for study, he can,
+after passing an examination, enter the excellent &Eacute;cole Turgot, wherein
+the programme of the primary schools is somewhat extended, without,
+however, embracing the study of Latin and Greek. At the Turgot the
+course comprises mathematics, linear and ornamental drawing, physics and
+mechanics, chemistry, natural history, calligraphy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> bookkeeping, French
+language and literature, history, geography, English and German. All the
+pupils are day scholars. There could probably be no better devised
+programme for developing and exercising the intellectual faculties of
+those who have gone through the primary schools, and it may
+unhesitatingly be affirmed that for most of the pupils the training
+received at the &Eacute;cole Turgot is of lifelong value.</p>
+
+<p>If a youth aim yet higher, he can apply for admittance at the Coll&eacute;ge
+Chaptal, where he may eventually obtain gratuitously a classical
+education, and at its close a university degree. From the Chaptal
+school&mdash;the new building devoted to which forms a conspicuous feature on
+the Boulevard des Batignolles&mdash;the pupil may, on passing an examination,
+enter either of the two higher colleges, the Central or the Polytechnic.
+Then, too, the Conservatoire des Arts et M&eacute;tiers may be looked on in the
+light of a magnificent annex to the schools of primary instruction. The
+idea of such an institution originated with the celebrated mechanician
+of the last century, Vaucanson, who bequeathed to the government his
+splendid collection of models, drawings, tools, machines and automatons.
+The Convention decreed the establishment of the Conservatoire, which now
+contains some 12,000 models in its industrial museum. Among them may be
+mentioned Pascal's arithmetical machine, Lavoisier's instruments, the
+first highway locomotive constructed by Cugniot in 1770, a lock forged
+by Louis XVI., clocks and watches of historic interest, and those
+patents which have run out by lapse of time. The machinery is set in
+motion at certain hours of the day, during which the public is admitted
+free. The library, rich in works of science, art and industry, is always
+open. In the evening there are gratuitous lectures delivered by men of
+science on such subjects as geometry, mechanics and chemistry applied to
+the arts, industrial and agricultural chemistry, agriculture,
+spinning-looms, dyeing, etc. The Conservatoire turns out the best
+foremen and heads of workshops to be found in Paris. It occupies the
+fine old building once used as the abbey of St. Martin des Champs, which
+has been tastefully restored in the original style, and takes up one of
+the sides of a handsome square laid out with flowers and fountains.</p>
+
+<p>Nor must we pass over entirely unnoticed the admirable gratuitous
+lectures given by the Polytechnic Association&mdash;<i>not</i> the Polytechnic
+School&mdash;on such subjects as hygiene, linear drawing, French grammar,
+bookkeeping and geometry. These lectures are held in some twenty
+different buildings, so as to be within the reach of the
+working-classes, no matter what part of Paris they may reside in. Among
+the lecturers in recent years are to be found such names as those of
+Ferdinand de Lesseps, Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Barral and Batbie.</p>
+
+<p>We have thus rapidly seen what Paris does for her poor youth. The city
+has often been called the focus of light and the centre of intelligence.
+Without going quite so far as this, it must nevertheless be acknowledged
+that with her public schools, her splendid libraries, her museums, her
+natural history and art collections, and her very numerous and valuable
+institutions open free to all, Paris affords unusual facilities for
+boys, taken even from the lowest strata of society, to rise by dint of
+hard study, a firm will and exemplary conduct to the very highest
+positions.</p>
+
+
+<h3>SECONDARY EDUCATION.</h3>
+
+<p>In France, children of parents in easy circumstances do not go to the
+primary schools at all. Every man occupying a higher social position
+than that of a mechanic does his utmost to procure for his children an
+education which shall place them above what the French call "the common
+people." Even a small farmer, with but a few thousand dollars at his
+command, strives to place his son in an institution where the higher
+cultivation of the intellectual faculties, the dress worn, and the very
+bearing, shall distinguish him from one of "the people." It need hardly
+be said that such a system as this, so diametrically opposed to that
+which prevails in the United States, tends to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> foster somewhat of
+jealousy and bitterness among the lower classes. As for those who have
+received this higher education, they would, as a general rule, consider
+it derogatory to their dignity ever in after life to perform any manual
+labor: this they leave to the illiterate and to those who have only
+attended the primary schools. The result may be imagined in the case of
+those whose parents, having paid their eight or nine years' schooling,
+are unable to do anything more for their offspring when they leave
+college. They cannot all earn their living in a professional capacity,
+or in the literary field, or as government employ&eacute;s, or, to be brief, in
+one of those situations which a graduate <i>can</i> accept; and those who
+fail, insensibly and by degrees fall into the ranks of the <i>d&eacute;class&eacute;s</i>.
+The common workman may occasionally and for a short period suffer
+privation and want, but that becomes the chronic condition of the poor
+graduate. He becomes a misanthrope, hates his fellow-beings and resorts
+to petty shifts in order to live. Gradually his sense of honor and his
+moral feelings get weaker and weaker, and finally disappear altogether.
+Then he becomes one of those men who, like the conspirators denounced by
+Corneille,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Si tout n'est renvers&eacute; ne sauraient subsister.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>These men take a prominent part in every <i>&eacute;meute</i>, haranguing the
+populace, propagating socialistic theories, and gaining a baneful
+influence over the uneducated and the discontented among the workingmen,
+thus causing that bloodshed and destruction of which Paris has so often
+been the scene. Probably no more vivid picture of the life of these
+unfortunate persons has ever been drawn than that which Jules Vall&egrave;s has
+given us in his <i>R&eacute;fractaires</i>. Most eloquently does he describe the
+vain hopes and reveries by which these men are elated, and the poignant
+misery they suffer. Vall&egrave;s, it will be recollected, was a Communist, a
+member of that revolutionary government which contained so many of these
+<i>d&eacute;class&eacute;s</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Far be it from us to desire to limit the higher education to the
+children of the rich. By all means let every man in a position to do so
+give his sons the benefit of the secondary education. The fittest will
+always survive, the weakest inevitably go to the wall. At the same time,
+there are certain modifications which all will admit may be introduced
+with advantage into the present system, and these will become apparent
+as we proceed.</p>
+
+<p>Secondary education is imparted in the national lyceums, which are
+established and governed by the state, and which now exist in eighty out
+of the eighty-six departments; in the municipal colleges, which are
+established and governed by the towns; and in the private colleges, the
+majority of which are kept by religious fraternities.</p>
+
+<p>The most celebrated of the private colleges are Arcueil and Sor&egrave;ze, both
+of which belong to the Dominicans. The principal professors at Arcueil
+were, it will be recollected, taken to La Roquette in 1871, and there
+shot with Archbishop Darboy and the other hostages. Sor&egrave;ze will not be
+forgotten so long as the memory of Lacordaire lives. The Fathers of the
+Oratory own the college of Juilly, where Berryer and Montalembert were
+educated. It was to this order that belonged the illustrious Massillon a
+century and a half ago, and Father Gratry in our own time. As for the
+Jesuits, their colleges are distributed over the whole of France, and
+are distinguished for their comfort and elegance, their spacious halls,
+their fine grounds and the excellent gymnasia attached thereto. Their
+superiority over the national lyceums leads to the fact of their being
+as well attended as the latter, although pupils at the Jesuits' colleges
+pay three times as much as at the government schools. The large college
+of the Jesuits in the Rue des Postes at Paris furnishes a heavy
+contingent to St. Cyr and the polytechnic schools. The Stanislas
+College, although a private institution, has its corps of professors
+appointed by the Minister of Public Instruction, and its pupils are
+privileged to take part in the general examinations of the lyceum
+pupils. M. John Lemoinne, the eminent writer for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> <i>Journal des
+D&eacute;bats</i>, was educated at the Stanislas College, all the pupils of which,
+it may be mentioned, are day scholars. At the Rollin College only
+boarders are admitted.</p>
+
+<p>There are quite a number of foreign colleges at Paris, such as the
+Egyptian, the Japanese, the Armenian and the Polish colleges. The former
+Irish college, now called <i>Coll&eacute;ge des Fondations britanniques</i>, is
+under the patronage of the French Minister of Education. It is here that
+young men speaking the English language are specially educated for the
+priesthood, the whole of the instruction being given in English and the
+management being in the hands of British and Irish ecclesiastics. About
+15,200 scholars attend the private colleges in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>Proceeding now to speak of the actual condition of the <i>lyc&eacute;es</i>, or
+lyceums, it may at once be stated that boarders at one of these
+establishments in Paris pay from $200 to $300 annually, and in the
+provinces from $150 to $200, according to age. Considering that this one
+charge covers board, instruction, books, washing, clothes, writing
+materials, medical attendance and medicine, it will readily be
+understood that the income from this source is totally inadequate to
+meet the outlays. The government, besides providing a large number of
+gratuitous scholarships, makes up the deficit, whatever it may be, and
+thus really maintains the lyceums. There are in Paris five national
+lyc&eacute;es, besides the lyceum at Vanves, situated at a little distance to
+the south of the capital, at what was once the villa of the prince de
+Cond&eacute;, on the Vaugirard route. At Vanves the younger pupils have the
+opportunity afforded them of pursuing their studies in the country, and
+only entering one of the Paris lyc&eacute;es when they have worked themselves
+into the fifth class. The most famous as well as the largest of the
+lyceums of Paris is the Lyc&eacute;e Descartes, formerly called the Lyc&eacute;e
+Louis-le-Grand. It stands in the Rue St. Jacques, on the spot formerly
+occupied by the Jesuits' Coll&eacute;ge de Clermont, which was founded in 1563,
+and confiscated when the Jesuits were expelled from France by the duc de
+Choiseul in 1764. As is well known, Moli&egrave;re and Voltaire, two of the
+bitterest enemies of the Jesuits, were educated at the Coll&eacute;ge de
+Clermont. At Louis-le-Grand were also educated Cr&eacute;billon, the author of
+the <i>Sopha</i>; Gresset, the writer of <i>Vert-vert</i>; Robespierre, Camille
+Desmoulins, Cr&eacute;mieux, Eug&egrave;ne Delacroix, Victor Hugo; the eminent surgeon
+Dupuytren; Jules Janin, Villemain, Littr&eacute; and Laboulaye. At present 540
+of its 1200 pupils are day scholars.</p>
+
+<p>Sainte-Barbe, the most celebrated of the free colleges of Paris, sends
+its pupils to the course of instruction at the Lyc&eacute;e Descartes.
+Sainte-Barbe was founded in 1460 by the Abb&eacute; Lenormand, and reorganized
+after the Revolution by Delaneau: it stands in the Place du Panth&eacute;on, on
+a small plot of ground, and is so thickly surrounded by buildings that
+the play-ground is not even large enough for the pupils to move about
+in. The younger among them are therefore sent to the branch of the
+school at Fontenay-aux-Roses, a stately ch&acirc;teau with spacious grounds.
+Both Ignatius Loyola, who founded the order of Jesus, and Calvin, who
+did his best to destroy it, were educated at Sainte-Barbe, as were also
+in more modern times Eug&egrave;ne Scribe, the singer Nourrit, the celebrated
+painter in water-colors Eug&egrave;ne Lamy, and General Trochu. The present
+director of Sainte-Barbe is M. Dubief, formerly inspector of the Academy
+of Paris, and who succeeded in 1865 the lamented M. Labrouste, to whose
+untiring exertions Sainte-Barbe owes in great part the high reputation
+it has enjoyed in recent times.</p>
+
+<p>On the Boulevard St. Michel, on the spot where once stood the old
+Coll&eacute;ge d'Harcourt, is the Lyc&eacute;e St. Louis, now called, after the famous
+mathematician, the Lyc&eacute;e Monge. Although the Lyc&eacute;e Monge is specially
+devoted to scientific training, it has numbered among its pupils Charles
+Gounod the composer and Egger the Hellenist.</p>
+
+<p>In the rear of the Panth&eacute;on, on the site of the abbey of Ste. Genevi&egrave;ve,
+founded by Clovis in 510, stands the Lyc&eacute;e Corneille, formerly called
+the Lyc&eacute;e Napol&eacute;on, and before that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> Coll&eacute;ge Henri IV. To the
+arch&aelig;ologist the cellars, the kitchens, the chapel and the old tower of
+the twelfth century cannot fail to prove of the greatest interest, while
+the remainder of the structure, built during the reign of Louis XIV.,
+makes this unquestionably the finest of the lyceums of Paris. At the
+Lyc&eacute;e Corneille were educated Casimir Delavigne (whose bust by David
+d'Angers adorns the interior), Sainte-Beuve, Haussmann, Alfred de
+Musset, St. Marc Girardin, &Eacute;mile Augier, Remusat, the prince de
+Joinville and the dukes of Nemours, Aumale, Montpensier and Chartres.
+The three lyceums above mentioned are on the left bank, the remaining
+two on the right bank, of the Seine.</p>
+
+<p>In the Rue Caumartin, near the Havre railway-station, on the site of the
+Capuchins' convent, stands the Lyc&eacute;e Condorcet, or, as it was called
+until recently, the Lyc&eacute;e Bonaparte. All the pupils are day scholars,
+and most of them come from the adjacent wealthy district of the Chauss&eacute;e
+d'Antin, the Boulevards and the Madeleine. Among the pupils of this
+aristocratic educational establishment may be named J. J. Amp&egrave;re,
+Alexandre Dumas <i>fils</i>, Adolphe Adam the composer, Edmond and Jules de
+Goncourt the novelists, Alphonse Karr, Henry Monnier, Nadar, Taine,
+Eug&egrave;ne Sue; the mulatto Sch&aelig;lcher, now Senator of France; the celebrated
+Jesuit Father Ravignan, and the poet Th&eacute;odore de Banville.</p>
+
+<p>The Lyc&eacute;e Charlemagne is in a building in the Rue St. Antoine, formerly
+used as the Jesuits' convent. Being situated in one of the poorest
+sections of Paris, the children from which as a rule do not get beyond
+the primary schools, it receives most of its scholars from the numerous
+boarding-schools of the Quartier du Marais. Among the many well-known
+names formerly on the roll of the Lyc&eacute;e Charlemagne are those of Gustave
+Dor&eacute;, Th&eacute;ophile Gautier, Admiral Jurien de la Gravi&egrave;re, Michelet; the
+dramatic critic Francisque Sarcey; Got the comedian, and Buffet the
+statesman.</p>
+
+<p>These five lyceums of Paris, with their 7500 day scholars and boarders,
+and the eighty lyceums in the provinces, have precisely the same
+programme and rules of government throughout. The boarders are divided
+into three sections, the first being for the <i>petits</i>&mdash;viz., boys
+averaging from seven to twelve, who are instructed in the elementary
+course, comprising the eighth and seventh classes; the second is for the
+<i>moyens</i>, who receive instruction in the grammar course, comprising the
+sixth, fifth and fourth classes; the third is for the <i>grands</i>, who,
+taking their place in the third and second classes, proceed with the
+higher course, embracing rhetoric, philosophy, and, if desired, special
+mathematics. Although at playtime the boys meet in a common play-ground,
+during school-hours they are distributed in different rooms or studies
+(<i>&eacute;tudes</i>), one class generally corresponding to a study. There is thus
+the eighth, fourth or second study, just as there is the eighth, fourth
+or second class. The professors&mdash;of whom there are from fifteen to
+thirty, the number of boys ranging from three hundred to twelve
+hundred&mdash;superintend the classes, while the dozen poor, ill-paid ushers
+have to keep order in the <i>&eacute;tudes</i>. The scholars signify their contempt
+for the ushers&mdash;officially known as <i>ma&icirc;tres r&eacute;p&eacute;titeurs</i>&mdash;by nicknaming
+them <i>pions</i> or watch-dogs. Yet not an usher but is appointed, like all
+others engaged in the lyc&eacute;e, by the minister. Each one of them has
+obtained his degree as bachelor, and many only accept the situation as a
+means of economically pursuing their studies toward the higher degrees
+and fellowships. Where the class is a large one, the corresponding study
+is usually divided into two, so as to reduce the number in one <i>&eacute;tude</i>
+to about thirty. The lads making up each <i>&eacute;tude</i> sleep in one dormitory
+on little iron bedsteads, only separated from each other by the width of
+the bed. The usher in charge sleeps at the extremity of the dormitory,
+his bed being the only one provided with curtains.</p>
+
+<p>A boy entering the lyceum at seven or eight years of age has already
+learned the rudiments, and is accordingly placed in the eighth class. In
+those exceptional cases where the boy comes to school unable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> to read or
+write he passes the first year in the preparatory class. In the eighth
+class, and the next year in the seventh, he is taught French grammar,
+spelling, arithmetic, sacred history and elementary Latin exercises and
+translation. In the sixth and fifth and the fourth classes the Latin
+authors the boy has to study become gradually more and more difficult.
+The professor of history who accompanies the students throughout their
+lyceum course, instructs them as they advance each year to a higher
+class, in Greek and Roman history and modern and ancient geography. So
+also the professors of English and German, of physics, natural history
+and mathematics keep up with their pupils, and guide their studies, each
+in his special branch, until they graduate. Drawing and music are also
+taught without extra charge two hours a week, but those children whose
+parents really desire them to make progress in these special branches
+have to take&mdash;and pay extra for&mdash;private lessons called <i>r&eacute;p&eacute;titions</i>.
+In the third and second classes, as also when the pupils are going
+through the course of rhetoric, Greek as well as Latin is studied,
+together with the French classic authors, Corneille, Racine, Moli&egrave;re,
+Bossuet, Boileau, La Bruy&egrave;re, La Fontaine, F&eacute;nelon, Massillon and some
+of Voltaire's works. The history of France is also studied, but scarcely
+with that thoroughness which characterizes the study of history in the
+German gymnasia.</p>
+
+<p>The pupil's last year is passed in the philosophy class, formerly called
+the logic class, which is specially devoted to the study of the human
+understanding; thus, as Mr. Matthew Arnold well puts it, "making the
+pupil busy himself with the substance of ideas, as in rhetoric he busied
+himself with their form, and developing his reflection as rhetoric
+developed his imagination and taste." During this last year, however,
+classic studies are pursued with none the less vigor, for on his
+proficiency in these branches depends very largely the student's success
+at the second and final examination for his degree. It is only since
+1874 that this examination has been divided into two parts&mdash;the first
+at the close of the year of rhetoric, the second at the close of the
+year of philosophy, the student being required to pass on both
+occasions. Each of the two examinations is divided into the <i>&eacute;preuve
+&eacute;crite</i> and the <i>&eacute;preuve orale</i>. In the latter the candidate is examined
+generally on all the subjects studied. The &eacute;preuve &eacute;crite consists, the
+first year, of a translation and Latin discourse&mdash;the second year, of a
+Latin dissertation and a French dissertation. Those educated in Paris
+have to pass their examination at the Sorbonne, while those educated in
+the provinces are examined by one of the sixteen faculties of France, at
+Poitiers, Caen, Toulouse, Bordeaux, etc. It is scarcely necessary to
+observe that the bachelor's degree confers no sort of privilege in
+France. The diploma which attests to its recipient having passed through
+a regular course of classical study opens up no career to him, but
+<i>with</i> this diploma he can study law or medicine or qualify for the
+special schools, such as the Polytechnic, St. Cyr and the normal
+schools, and on leaving these his position is assured.</p>
+
+<p>The life led by the boarders at the <i>lyc&eacute;es</i> is as follows: At six
+o'clock in summer, and at half-past six in winter, the pupils get up at
+the sound of the drum. Ten minutes are allowed for dressing, and then
+they all march in procession to the preparation-room. One of the lads
+recites a short prayer in Latin, after which the boys study till
+half-past seven. They then proceed to the refectory, where all the
+pupils breakfast together, ten minutes being allowed for the meal.
+Thence the boys go into the play-ground, where the ranks are broken and
+a quarter of an hour is allowed for play and talk. (Out of the
+play-ground conversation among the pupils is prohibited by the rules,
+and not infrequently those caught talking are punished.) From eight to
+ten the boys are in school; from ten to half-past ten, at play; from
+half-past ten to twelve, in the study, writing exercises, getting ready
+for classes and solving problems. At twelve o'clock, dinner, then play
+till one; from one till two, in the study, learning by heart lessons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+for recitation; from two till four, school; from four to five, play;
+from five to half-past seven in the study, where the exercises for the
+following morning are written. At half-past seven, supper, then another
+prayer in Latin, and then to bed. On Thursdays and Sundays there are no
+classes, but the boys have their hours of study as on other days, and
+fill up the time by a two-hours' walk in marching array, either in the
+city or (if weather permit) in the country. Once a week in Paris, once a
+fortnight in the provinces, a boy may go out for a holiday if his
+parents or persons authorized by his parents come and take him from
+school. He is allowed to see his parents or those representing them any
+day between four and five P.M. in the <i>parloir</i>. On Sundays attendance
+at mass and at vespers in the chapel of the lyc&eacute;e is compulsory for
+pupils of the Roman Catholic faith. Pupils belonging to other faiths
+have in Paris every opportunity for attending the services of their
+religion, but in the provinces this is naturally not so easy. The
+regular holidays are the 1st and 2d of January, a week at Easter and two
+months in summer, commencing about the 10th of August. All corporal
+punishment is strictly prohibited. The lads are punished by being kept
+in in play-hours and on holidays, and in grave cases by being confined
+<i>en s&eacute;questre</i>. It is very rarely that a pupil is expelled&mdash;a punishment
+which may in extreme cases entail expulsion from every lyceum in France.</p>
+
+<p>As will have been seen, the life led by the boarders at the lyceums is
+pretty irksome and severe. If a boy's parents live in the city, he can
+simply attend the classes as a day scholar, which experience has proved
+to be the better of the two plans. From a sanitary point of view the
+lyceums do not stand high by any means. Few among them were built on any
+proper model, or, as will have been noticed, even constructed for their
+present use. About four-fifths of them were old colleges belonging to
+religious corporations confiscated at the Revolution, or they were
+formerly convents, and have now been fitted up as well as possible for
+purely educational purposes. The rooms are for the most part so small
+that the lads are crowded and huddled together. On some of the benches
+they have to sit on one side when they want to write. Every lyceum has
+an infirmary, to which are attached two or three Sisters of Charity, and
+the infirmary is often fuller than could be wished. The play-grounds are
+in general miserably small, rarely planted with trees, and ill adapted
+for boys to run about and play in. Some of the boys who are always kept
+in do not get even this poor exercise. The contributions of the
+government for the maintenance of the lyceums being on a somewhat
+parsimonious scale, every kind of economy is practiced. The food,
+without being unwholesome, is far from being agreeable. The lighting of
+the buildings by oil lamps, not by gas, is often insufficient, and may
+possibly explain the fact of so many Frenchmen being short-sighted. The
+rooms are warmed in winter by small stoves, which send out noxious
+vapors.</p>
+
+<p>At the head of every lyceum is a provost (<i>proviseur</i>), who is assisted
+by a <i>censeur</i> or superintendent of instruction, by an inspector of
+studies, and by a bursar (<i>&eacute;conome</i>), who controls the finances of the
+establishment. Toward the end of each scholastic year, about July, ten
+or a dozen of the brightest youths are selected from each of the classes
+in the lyceums of Paris, and are made to undergo an examination in
+composition at the Sorbonne. At its close prizes and <i>accessits</i> are
+awarded, and these are distributed about the 15th of August in the
+amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, and in presence of a distinguished
+assemblage under the presidency of the Minister of Public Instruction.
+The minister, having opened the proceedings with a speech in French, is
+followed by one of the professors, who, in accordance with a custom more
+than a century old, makes a speech in Latin. Since 1865 the provincial
+lyceums have competed among themselves, and as the subjects of
+composition are the same as those in the Paris lyceums, an opportunity
+is afforded for observing how very much farther advanced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> are the
+Parisian establishments than those in the interior. Not only has Paris
+the best professors, but also the best boys, many having been sent
+thither by their parents from the provincial lyceums on their displaying
+marked ability and intelligence. Thus the standard of the Paris lyceums
+is raised. Upon the result of the general examination undergone by the
+pupils of a public or private school depends the estimation in which
+that institution is held by the public. The more prizes taken by a
+lyceum or by an institution sending its pupils to the lyceum
+examinations, the greater will be the number of parents sending their
+children thither. The successful participants who have carried off the
+prizes of honor in special mathematics, philosophy and Latin are exempt
+from military service, while the professors of the class to which they
+belonged are often rewarded with the cross of the Legion of Honor. It
+will therefore be apparent that the heads of the educational
+establishments are, to say the least, quite as much interested in the
+results of the contest as are the pupils themselves. The natural
+consequence is, that the professors devote themselves to cramming those
+pupils whose assiduity and superior intelligence mark them out as fit
+partakers in such a contest. There are sometimes as many as sixty pupils
+in a class in the Paris Lyc&eacute;e, and yet the professor's attention may be
+confined to barely a dozen among them. The rest of the class read
+novels, go to sleep or remain listless during the lesson. The well-known
+writer M. Maxime du Camp may possibly have slightly exaggerated the evil
+when he asserted that "Ceux-l&agrave; seuls travaillent qui se destinent aux
+&eacute;coles sp&eacute;ciales;" but we have no difficulty in believing his statement
+that on one occasion M. &Eacute;mile Saisset&mdash;since a member of the Institute,
+then professor at the Lyc&eacute;e Henri IV.&mdash;left the platform, and taking a
+seat facing the front row, where he had got together the six best (<i>plus
+forts</i>), began reading to them in a low tone. When one of the other
+pupils began talking too loud, the professor cried out, "Ne faites donc
+pas tant de bruit: vous nous emp&ecirc;chez de causer."</p>
+
+<p>But, although these general examinations may operate somewhat
+disadvantageously toward the duller members of the class, it must be
+acknowledged that they have had the effect of inducing many a youth to
+put forth his best efforts in order to attain special distinction, and
+have thus laid the foundation of future success. Among those with whom
+such has been the case may be mentioned the names of Delille the poet,
+La Harpe the critic, Victor Cousin the philosopher, Adrien de Jussieu
+the naturalist, Drouyn de Lhuys, ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs, now
+president of the Agricultural Society of France; Taine, Edmond About,
+Pr&eacute;vost Paradol, etc.</p>
+
+<p>Within the last thirty years the plan of study in the lyc&eacute;es has
+undergone many changes. Each successive Minister of Education has
+instituted some modifications, and the result has generally been an
+improvement. The most thoroughgoing revision took place under M. Jules
+Simon, who was Minister of Public Instruction in 1872. A well-known
+member of the Institute and professor of philosophy, M. Paul Janet, in
+defending the reforms instituted by M. Simon, makes some bold remarks on
+the subject. Secondary education in France is now composed of two
+branches of instruction mingled, which if separated might, according to
+M. Janet, each for itself furnish the materials for a very thorough and
+wide-reaching education. On the one hand is the classical course,
+consisting of Greek and Latin, and on the other what may be termed the
+modern course, composed of French, living foreign languages, history,
+geography, science and physical exercises,&mdash;these last embracing
+fencing, gymnastics, gun-practice, etc. Society at the time of the
+Renaissance had to be steeped once again in the study of classical
+literature in order to weld anew the links of that chain which had been
+broken by the invasion of the barbarians. So also, reasons M. Janet, it
+is necessary now for us to be prepared for the new conditions of modern
+and contemporary civilization. This civilization, he goes on to say, is
+marked by three distinguishing characteristics: the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> prodigious
+development of science and industry; the establishment of political
+institutions more or less liberal; the extension of the means of
+communication between various nations. Therefore he holds that the study
+of science should occupy a more prominent place in the system of French
+instruction. History, useless in a country despotically governed,
+becomes more and more necessary in a free country. Foreign languages and
+the literature of the Teutonic and English-speaking nations must occupy
+a larger place in the new plan of studies.</p>
+
+<p>But the question arises, How can place be found for new studies when
+some of the old ones have to be crowded out? Evidently this can only be
+done by circumscribing within narrower limits classical instruction.
+Now-a-days, says M. Jules Simon, "on apprend les langues vivantes pour
+les parler et les langues mortes pour les lire." The day is past when
+Santeul gained for himself a reputation by his Latin verse, and when
+Cardinal de Polignac refuted Lucretius in his own tongue. Latin
+compositions have become purely artificial exercises, and the art of
+writing Latin must be sacrificed, just as the art of speaking Latin was
+sacrificed a century ago. Therefore it was that M. Simon did away with
+Latin verse. He retained for the present Latin speeches and
+dissertations, but contemplated abolishing these too in the future; and
+he proposed that there should be two kinds of exposition of Latin texts
+in the classes&mdash;the one very profound, and where much time should be
+given to but a few lines; the other, on the contrary, very rapid and
+extended, having for its object to exercise the pupil in reading and
+readily understanding what he reads. Since the reforms of 1872 the
+pupils read Latin with not less facility than before; which seems to
+show that Latin verse was not indispensable. It should also be mentioned
+that under M. Simon's auspices a law was made in 1872 requiring every
+pupil to pass an examination before being promoted from a lower to a
+higher class in the lyc&eacute;e. Those who fail in this examination, and who
+do not care to return to the lower class, are transferred to the
+so-called <i>classes de science</i>, where the subjects of study are
+mathematics, geometry, physics, chemistry and natural history.</p>
+
+<p>M. Jules Simon retired from his post as Minister of Public Instruction
+under M. Thiers on the 24th of May, 1873, and the reforms he had
+instituted were overthrown by the clerical ministry which followed. The
+Republican elections of the 20th of February, 1876, having been the
+means of once more placing the government in the hands of M. Simon's
+friends, he himself was on the 12th of December last made president of
+the Council of Ministers, while M. Waddington resumed the portfolio of
+Public Instruction. M. Waddington, who besides being a Rugby and
+Cambridge man, has, like M. Simon, taken the doctor's degree at the
+Sorbonne, at once took measures to carry out the liberal and progressive
+reforms we have spoken of. His efforts were, however, frustrated by the
+enforced retirement of the Jules Simon ministry on the 16th of May,
+1877, and the accession of the conservatives to power. There can be
+little doubt that the new ministry will set aside all the reforms
+planned and executed, and will return to the old paths until the seesaw
+of public opinion in France shall once more re-establish the
+Simon-Waddington reforms.</p>
+
+<p>As has been shown, the progress made in the system of secondary
+instruction in France is but slow: indeed, it may be compared to that of
+certain pilgrims, who in fulfillment of their vows take three steps
+forward and two backward. Nevertheless, these party struggles and
+tentative efforts cannot fail in the end to result in a marked
+definitive improvement in the educational system. Before all things, it
+was necessary that the fallibility of the old system and of the
+antiquated shibboleths of instruction, which had hitherto exercised
+undisputed sway, be recognized. The rest will follow in due time.
+Whether minister or not, M. Jules Simon may justly claim the credit of
+having brought about a salutary educational crisis, the effects of which
+will be felt by the next, if not by the present, generation.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">C. H. Harding</span>.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE MARQUIS OF LOSSIE.</h2>
+
+<h3>BY GEORGE MACDONALD, AUTHOR OF "MALCOLM."</h3>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER LVII.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SHORE.</h4>
+
+<p>It was two days after the longest day of the year, when there is no
+night in those regions, only a long twilight in which many dream and do
+not know it. There had been a few days of variable weather, with sudden
+changes of wind to east and north, and round again by south to west, and
+then there had been a calm for several days. But now the little wind
+there was blew from the north-east, and the fervor of a hot June was
+rendered more delicious by the films of flavoring cold that floated
+through the mass of heat. All Portlossie more or less, the Seaton
+especially, was in a state of excitement, for its little neighbor
+Scaurnose was more excited still. There the man most threatened, and
+with greatest injustice, was the only one calm amongst the men, and
+amongst the women his wife was the only one that was calmer than he.
+Blue Peter was resolved to abide the stroke of wrong, and not resist the
+powers that were, believing them in some true sense&mdash;which he found it
+hard to understand when he thought of the factor as the individual
+instance&mdash;ordained of God. He had a dim perception too that it was
+better that one, and that one he, should suffer, than that order should
+be destroyed and law defied. Suffering, he might still in patience
+possess his soul, and all be well with him; but what would become of the
+country if every one wronged were to take the law into his own hands?
+Thousands more would be wronged by the lawless in a week than by unjust
+powers in a year. But the young men were determined to pursue their plan
+of resistance, and those of the older and soberer who saw the
+uselessness of it gave themselves little trouble to change the minds of
+the rest. Peter, although he knew they were not at rest, neither
+inquired what their purpose might be, nor allowed any conjecture or
+suspicion concerning it to influence him in his preparations for
+departure. Not that he had found a new home. Indeed, he had not heartily
+set about searching for one&mdash;in part because, unconsciously to himself,
+he was buoyed up by the hope he read so clear in the face of his more
+trusting wife that Malcolm would come to deliver them. His plan was to
+leave her and his children with certain friends at Port Gordon: he would
+not hear of going to the Partans to bring them into trouble. He would
+himself set out immediately after for the Lewis fishing. Few had gone
+from Scaurnose or Portlossie. The magnitude of the events that were
+about to take place, yet more the excitement and interest they
+occasioned, kept the most of the men at home, and they contented
+themselves with fishing the waters of the Moray Frith&mdash;not without
+notable success. But what was success with such a tyrant over them as
+the factor, threatening to harry their nests and turn the sea-birds and
+their young out of their heritage of rock and sand and shingle? They
+could not keep house on the waves any more than the gulls. Those who
+still held their religious assemblies in the cave called the Baillies'
+Barn met often, read and sang the comminatory psalms more than any
+others, and prayed much against the wiles and force of their enemies
+both temporal and spiritual; while Mr. Crathie went every Sunday to
+church, grew redder in the nose and hotter in the temper.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Horn was growing more and more uncomfortable concerning events, and
+dissatisfied with Malcolm. She had not for some time heard from him, and
+here was his most important duty unattended to&mdash;she would not yet say
+neglected&mdash;the well-being of his tenantry left in the hands of an
+unsympathetic, self-important underling, who was fast losing all the
+good sense he had once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> possessed! Were the life and history of all
+these brave fishermen and their wives and children to be postponed to
+the pampered feelings of one girl, and that because she was what she had
+no right to be&mdash;namely, his half-sister? said Miss Horn to herself, that
+bosom friend to whom some people, and those not the worst, say oftener
+what they do not mean than what they do. She had written to him within
+the last month a very hot letter indeed, which had afforded no end of
+amusement to Mrs. Catanach as she sat in his old lodging over the
+curiosity-shop, but, I need hardly say, had not reached Malcolm; and now
+there was but one night and the best of all the fisher families would
+have nowhere to lie down. Miss Horn, with Joseph Mair, thought she did
+well to be angry with Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>The blind piper had been very restless all day. Questioned again and
+again by his Mistress Partan as to what was amiss with him, he had given
+her odd and evasive answers. Every few minutes he got up&mdash;even from
+cleaning her lamp&mdash;to go to the shore. He had not far to go to reach
+it&mdash;had but to cross the threshold, and take a few steps through the
+<i>close</i>, and he was on the road that ran along the sea-front of the
+village. On the one side were the cottages, scattered and huddled&mdash;on
+the other, the shore and ocean, wide outstretched. He would walk
+straight across the road until he felt the sand under his feet; there
+stand for a few moments facing the sea, and, with nostrils distended,
+breathing deep breaths of the air from the north-east, then turn and
+walk back to Meg Partan's kitchen and resume his ministration of light.
+These his sallies were so frequent, and his absences so short, that a
+more serene temper than hers might have been fretted by them. But there
+was something about his look and behavior that, while it perplexed,
+restrained her, and instead of breaking out upon him she eyed him
+curiously. She had found that it would not do to stare at him. The
+moment she began to do so he began to fidget, and turned his back to
+her. It had made her lose her temper for a moment, and declare aloud as
+her conviction that he was after all an impostor, and saw as well as any
+of them.</p>
+
+<p>"She has told you so, Mistress Partan, one hundred thousand times,"
+replied Duncan with an odd smile; "and perhaps she will pe see a little
+petter as any of you, no matter."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon she murmured to herself, "The cratur' 'ill be seein'
+something!" and with mingled awe and curiosity sought to lay some
+restraint upon her unwelcome observation of him.</p>
+
+<p>Thus it went on the whole day, and as the evening approached he grew
+still more excited. The sun went down and the twilight began, and as the
+twilight deepened still his excitement grew. Straightway it seemed as if
+the whole Seaton had come to share in it. Men and women were all out of
+doors; and, late as it was when the sun set, to judge by the number of
+bare legs and feet that trotted in and out with a little red flash, with
+a dull patter-pat on earthen floor and hard road, and a scratching and
+hustling among the pebbles, there could not have been one older than a
+baby in bed; while of the babies even not a few were awake in their
+mothers' arms, and out with them on the sea-front, where the men, with
+their hands in their trouser-pockets, were lazily smoking pigtail in
+short clay pipes with tin covers fastened to the stems by little chains,
+and some of the women, in short blue petticoats and worsted stockings,
+were doing the same. Some stood in their doors, talking with neighbors
+standing in their doors, but these were mostly the elder women: the
+younger ones&mdash;all but Lizzy Findlay&mdash;were out in the road. One man half
+leaned, half sat on the window-sill of Duncan's former abode, and round
+him were two or three more, and some women, talking about Scaurnose, and
+the factor, and what the lads there would do to-morrow; while the hush
+of the sea on the pebbles mingled with their talk like an unknown tongue
+of the Infinite&mdash;never articulating, only suggesting&mdash;uttering in song
+and not in speech&mdash;dealing not with thoughts, but with feelings and
+foretastes. No one listened:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> what to them was the Infinite, with
+Scaurnose in the near distance? It was now almost as dark as it would be
+throughout the night if it kept clear.</p>
+
+<p>Once more there was Duncan, standing as if looking out to sea, and
+shading his brows with his hand as if to protect his eyes from the glare
+of the sun and enable his sight.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the auld piper again!" said one of the group, a young woman.
+"He's unco fule-like to be stan'in' that gait (<i>way</i>), makin' as gien he
+cudna weel see for the sun in 's een."</p>
+
+<p>"Haud ye yer tongue, lass," rejoined an elderly woman beside her.
+"There's mair things nor ye ken, as the Beuk says. There's een 'at can
+see an' een 'at canna, an' een 'at can see twise ower, an' een 'at can
+see steikit what nane can see open."</p>
+
+<p>"Ta poat! ta poat of my chief!" cried the seer. "She is coming like a
+tream of ta night, put one tat will not tepart with ta morning!" He
+spoke as one suppressing a wild joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Wha'll that be, lucky-deddy?" inquired in a respectful voice the woman
+who had last spoken, while all within hearing hushed each other and
+stood in silence. And all the time the ghost of the day was creeping
+round from west to east, to put on its resurrection body and rise new
+born. It gleamed faint like a cold ashy fire in the north.</p>
+
+<p>"And who will it pe than her own son, Mistress Reekie?" answered the
+piper, calling her by her husband's nickname, as was usual, but, as was
+his sole wont, prefixing the title of respect where custom would have
+employed but her Christian name. "Who'll should it pe put her own
+Malcolm?" he went on. "I see his poat come round ta Tead Head. She flits
+over the water like a pale ghost over Morven. But it's ta young and ta
+strong she is pringing home to Tuncan.&mdash;O m'anam, beannuich!"</p>
+
+<p>Involuntarily, all eyes turned toward the point called the Death's Head,
+which bounded the bay on the east.</p>
+
+<p>"It's ower dark to see onything," said the man on the window-sill.
+"There's a bit haar (<i>fog</i>) come up."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Duncan, "it'll pe too tark for you who haf cot no eyes only
+to speak of. Put you'll wait a few, and you'll pe seeing as well as
+herself.&mdash;Och, her poy! her poy! O m'anam! Ta Lort pe praised! and
+she'll tie in peace, for he'll pe only ta one-half of him a Cam'ell, and
+he'll pe safed at last, as sure as there's a heafen to co to and a hell
+to co from. For ta half tat's not a Cam'ell must be ta strong half, and
+it will trag ta other half into heafen&mdash;where it will not pe ta welcome
+howefer."</p>
+
+<p>As if to get rid of the unpleasant thought that his Malcolm could not
+enter heaven without taking half a Campbell with him, he turned from the
+sea and hurried into the house, but only to catch up his pipes and
+hasten out again, filling the bag as he went. Arrived once more on the
+verge of the sand, he stood again facing the north-east, and began to
+blow a pibroch loud and clear.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, the Partan had joined the same group, and they were talking in
+a low tone about the piper's claim to the second-sight&mdash;for although all
+were more or less inclined to put faith in Duncan, there was here no
+such unquestioning belief in the marvel as would have been found on the
+west coast in every glen from the Mull of Cantyre to Loch Eribol&mdash;when
+suddenly Meg Partan, almost the only one hitherto remaining in the
+house, appeared rushing from the close. "Hech, sirs!" she cried,
+addressing the Seaton in general, "gien the auld man be in the richt&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She'll pe aal in ta right, Mistress Partan, and tat you'll pe seeing,"
+said Duncan, who, hearing her first cry, had stopped his drone and
+played softly, listening.</p>
+
+<p>But Meg went on without heeding him any more than was implied in the
+repetition of her exordium: "Gien the auld man be i' the richt, it 'll
+be the marchioness hersel', 'at's h'ard o' the ill-duin's o' her factor,
+an' 's comin' to see efter her fowk. An' it 'll be Ma'colm's duin'; an'
+that 'll be seen. But the bonny laad winna ken the state o' the herbor,
+an' he'll be makin' for the moo' o' 't, an' he'll jist rin 's bonny
+boatie agrun' 'atween<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> the twa piers; an' that 'll no be a richt
+hame-comin' for the leddy o' the lan'; an' what's mair, Ma'colm 'ill get
+the wyte (<i>blame</i>) o' 't; an' that 'll be seen. Sae ye maun, some o' ye,
+to the pier-heid, an' luik oot to gie them warnin'."</p>
+
+<p>Her own husband was the first to start, proud of the foresight of his
+wife. "Haith, Meg!" he cried, "ye're maist as guid at the lang sicht as
+the piper himsel'!"</p>
+
+<p>Several followed him, and as they ran Meg cried after them, giving her
+orders as if she had been vice-admiral of the red, in a voice shrill
+enough to pierce the worst gale that ever blew on northern shore, "Ye'll
+jist tell the bonnie laad to haud wast a bit an' rin her ashore, an'
+we'll a' be there, an' hae her as dry's Noah's ark in a jiffie. Tell her
+leddyship we'll cairry the boat an' her intil't to the tap o' the Boar's
+Tail gien she'll gie's her orders.&mdash;Winna we, laads?"</p>
+
+<p>"We can but try," said one. "But the Fisky 'ill be waur to get a grip o'
+nor Nancy here," he added, turning suddenly upon the plumpest girl in
+the place, who stood next him. But she foiled him of the kiss he had
+thought to snatch, and turned the laugh from herself upon him, so
+cleverly avoiding his clutch that he staggered into the road and nearly
+fell upon his nose.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the Partan and his companions reached the pier-head
+something was dawning in the vague of sea and sky that might be a sloop,
+and standing for the harbor. Thereupon the Partan and Jamie Ladle jumped
+into a small boat and pulled out. Dubs, who had come from Scaurnose on
+the business of the conjuration, had stepped into the stern, not to
+steer, but to show a white ensign&mdash;somebody's Sunday shirt he had
+gathered as they ran from a furze-bush, where it hung to dry, between
+the Seaton and the harbor.</p>
+
+<p>"Hoots! ye'll affront the marchioness," objected the Partan.</p>
+
+<p>"Man, i' the gloamin' she'll no ken't frae buntin'," said Dubs, and at
+once displayed it, holding it by the two sleeves. The wind had now
+fallen to the softest breath, and the little vessel came on slowly. The
+men rowed hard, shouting and waving their flag, and soon heard a hail
+which none of them could mistake for other than Malcolm's. In a few
+minutes they were on board, greeting their old friend with jubilation,
+but talking in a subdued tone, for they knew by Malcolm's that the
+cutter bore their lady. Briefly the Partan communicated the state of the
+harbor, and recommended porting his helm and running the Fisky ashore
+about opposite the brass swivel. "A' the men an' women i' the Seaton,"
+he said, "'ill be there to haul her up."</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm took the helm, gave his orders and steered farther westward.</p>
+
+<p>By this time the people on shore had caught sight of the cutter. They
+saw her come stealing out of the thin dark like a thought half thought,
+and go gliding along the shore like a sea-ghost over the dusky water,
+faint, uncertain, noiseless, glimmering. It could be no other than the
+Fisky! Both their lady and their friend Malcolm must be on board, they
+were certain, for how could the one of them come without the other? and
+doubtless the marchioness&mdash;whom they all remembered as a good-humored,
+handsome girl, ready to speak to any and everybody&mdash;would immediately
+deliver them from the hateful red-nosed ogre, her factor. Out at once
+they all set along the shore to greet her arrival, each running
+regardless of the rest, so that from the Seaton to the middle of the
+Boar's Tail there was a long, straggling, broken string of hurrying
+fisher-folk, men and women, old and young, followed by all the current
+children, tapering to one or two toddlers, who felt themselves neglected
+and wept their way along. The piper, too asthmatic to run, but not too
+asthmatic to walk and play his bagpipes, delighting the heart of
+Malcolm, who could not mistake the style, believed he brought up the
+rear, but was mistaken; for the very last came Mrs. Findlay and Lizzy,
+carrying between them their little deal kitchen-table for her ladyship
+to step out of the boat upon, and Lizzy's child fast asleep on the top
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>The foremost ran and ran until they saw that the Fisky had chosen her
+lair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> and was turning her bows to the shore, when they stopped and
+stood ready with greased planks and ropes to draw her up. In a few
+minutes the whole population was gathered, darkening, in the June
+midnight, the yellow sands between the tide and the dune. The Psyche was
+well manned now with a crew of six. On she came under full sail till
+within a few yards of the beach, when in one and the same moment every
+sheet was let go, and she swept softly up like a summer wave, and lay
+still on the shore. The butterfly was asleep. But ere she came to rest,
+the instant indeed that her canvas went fluttering away, thirty strong
+men had rushed into the water and laid hold of the now wingless Psyche.
+In a few minutes she was high and dry.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm leaped on the sand just as the Partaness came bustling up with
+her kitchen-table between her two hands like a tray. She set it down,
+and across it shook hands with him violently: then caught it up again,
+and deposited it firm on its four legs beneath the cutter's waist. "Noo,
+my leddy," said Meg, looking up at the marchioness, "set ye yer bit fut
+upo' my table, an' we'll think the mair o' 't efter whan we tak oor
+denner aff o' 't."</p>
+
+<p>Florimel thanked her, stepped lightly upon it, and sprang to the sand,
+where she was received with words of welcome from many, and shouts which
+rendered them inaudible from the rest. The men, their bonnets in their
+hands, and the women curtseying, made a lane for her to pass through,
+while the young fellows would gladly have begged leave to carry her
+could they have extemporized any suitable sort of palanquin or triumphal
+litter.</p>
+
+<p>Followed by Malcolm, she led the way over the Boar's Tail&mdash;nor would
+accept any help in climbing it&mdash;straight for the tunnel: Malcolm had
+never laid aside the key his father had given him to the private doors
+while he was yet a servant. They crossed by the embrasure of the brass
+swivel. That implement had now long been silent, but they had not gone
+many paces from the bottom of the dune when it went off with a roar. The
+shouts of the people drowned the startled cry with which Florimel
+turned to Malcolm, involuntarily mindful of old and for her better
+times. She had not looked for such a reception, and was both flattered
+and touched by it. For a brief space the spirit of her girlhood came
+back. Possibly, had she then understood that hope rather than faith or
+love was at the heart of their enthusiasm, that her tenants looked upon
+her as their savior from the factor, and sorely needed the exercise of
+her sovereignty, she might have better understood her position and her
+duty toward them.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm unlocked the door of the tunnel, and she entered, followed by
+Rose, who felt as if she were walking in a dream. But as he stepped in
+after them he was seized from behind and clasped close in an embrace he
+knew at once. "Daddy, daddy!" he said, and turning threw his arms round
+the piper.</p>
+
+<p>"My poy! my poy! her nain son Malcolm!" said the old man in a whisper of
+intense satisfaction and suppression. "You'll must pe forgifing her for
+coming pack to you. She cannot help lofing you, and you must forget tat
+you are a Cam'ell."</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm kissed his cheek, and said, also in a whisper, "My ain daddy! I
+hae a heap to tell ye, but I maun see my leddy hame first."</p>
+
+<p>"Co, co, this moment co!" cried the old man, pushing him away. "To your
+tuties to my leddyship first, and then come to her old daddy."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be wi' ye in half an hoor or less."</p>
+
+<p>"Coot poy! coot poy! Come to Mistress Partan's."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay, daddy!" said Malcolm, and hurried through the tunnel.</p>
+
+<p>As Florimel approached the ancient dwelling of her race, now her own to
+do with as she would, her pleasure grew. Whether it was the twilight or
+the breach in dulling custom, everything looked strange, the grounds
+wider, the trees larger, the house grander and more anciently venerable.
+And all the way the burn sang in the hollow. The spirit of her father
+seemed to hover about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> place, and while the thought that her
+father's voice would not greet her when she entered the hall cast a
+solemn funereal state over her simple return, her heart yet swelled with
+satisfaction and far-derived pride. All this was hers to do with as she
+would, to confer as she pleased! No thought of her tenants, fishers or
+farmers, who did their strong part in supporting the ancient dignity of
+her house, had even an associated share in the bliss of the moment. She
+had forgotten her reception already, or regarded it only as the natural
+homage to such a position and power as hers. As to owing anything in
+return, the idea had indeed been presented to her when with Clementina
+and Malcolm she talked over <i>St. Ronan's Well</i>, but it had never entered
+her mind.</p>
+
+<p>The drawing-room and the hall were lighted. Mrs. Courthope was at the
+door, as if she expected her, and Florimel was careful to take
+everything as a matter of course.</p>
+
+<p>"When will your ladyship please to want me?" asked Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>"At the usual hour, Malcolm," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>He turned and ran to the Seaton.</p>
+
+<p>His first business was the accommodation of Travers and Davy, but he
+found them already housed at the Salmon, with Jamie Ladle teaching
+Travers to drink toddy. They had left the Psyche snug: she was high
+above high-water mark, and there were no tramps about: they had furled
+her sails, locked the companion-door and left her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Findlay rejoiced over Malcolm as if he had been her own son from a
+far country, but the poor piper, between politeness and gratitude on the
+one hand and the urging of his heart on the other, was sorely tried by
+her loquacity: he could hardly get in a word. Malcolm perceived his
+suffering, and as soon as seemed prudent proposed that he should walk
+with him to Miss Horn's, where he was going to sleep, he said, that
+night. Mrs. Partan snuffed, but held her peace. For the third or fourth
+time that day, wonderful to tell, she restrained herself!</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they were out of the house Malcolm assured Duncan, to the
+old man's great satisfaction, that, had he not found him there, he would
+within another month have set out to roam Scotland in search of him.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Horn had heard of their arrival, and was wandering about the house,
+unable even to sit down until she saw the marquis. To herself she always
+called him the marquis: to his face he was always Ma'colm. If he had not
+come she declared she could not have gone to bed; yet she received him
+with an edge to her welcome: he had to answer for his behavior. They sat
+down, and Duncan told a long sad story; which finished, with the toddy
+that had sustained him during the telling, the old man thought it
+better, for fear of annoying his Mistress Partan, to go home. As it was
+past one o'clock, they both agreed.</p>
+
+<p>"And if she'll tie to-night, my poy," said Duncan, "she'll pe lie awake
+in her crave all ta long tarkness to pe waiting to hear ta voice of your
+worrts in ta morning. And nefer you mind, Malcolm, she'll has learned to
+forgive you for peing only ta one-half of yourself a cursed Cam'ell."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Horn gave Malcolm a wink, as much as to say, "Let the old man talk:
+it will hurt no Campbell;" and showed him out with much attention.</p>
+
+<p>And then at last Malcolm poured out his whole story, and his heart with
+it, to Miss Horn, who heard and received it with understanding, and a
+sympathy which grew ever as she listened. At length she declared herself
+perfectly satisfied, for not only had he done his best, but she did not
+see what else he could have done. She hoped, however, that now he would
+contrive to get this part over as quickly as possible, for which in the
+morning she would show him cogent reasons.</p>
+
+<p>"I hae no feelin's mysel', as ye weel ken, Ma'colm," she remarked in
+conclusion, "an' I doobt, gien I had been i' your place, I wad na hae
+luikit ta a' sides o' the thing at ance, as ye hae dune. An' it was a
+man like you 'at sae near lost yer life for the hizzy!" she exclaimed.
+"I maunna think aboot it, or I winna<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> sleep a wink. But we maun get that
+deevil Catanach (an' cat eneuch!) hangt.&mdash;Weel, my man, ye may haud up
+yer heid afore the father o' ye, for ye're the first o' the race, I'm
+thinkin', 'at ever was near han' deein' for anither. But mak ye a speedy
+en' till 't noo, laad, an' fa' to the lave o' yer wark. There's a
+terrible heap to be dune. But I maun haud my tongue the nicht, for I wad
+fain ye had a guid sleep; an' I'm needin' ane sair mysel', for I'm no
+sae yoong as I ance was; an' I hae been that anxious aboot ye, Ma'colm,
+'at though I never hed ony feelin's, yet, noo 'at it's a' gaein' richt,
+an' ye're a' richt, an' like to be richt for evermair, my heid's jist
+like to split. Gang yer wa's to yer bed, and soon' may ye sleep! It's
+the bed yer bonny mither got a soon' sleep in at last, an' muckle was
+she i' need o' 't! An' jist tak tent the morn what ye say whan Jean's i'
+the room, or maybe o' the ither side o' the door, for she's no mowse. I
+dinna ken what gars me keep the jaud. I believe 'at gien the verra
+deevil himsel' had been wi' me sae lang, I wadna hae the hert to turn
+him aboot his ill business. That's what comes o' haein' no feelin's.
+Ither fowk wad hae gotten rid o' her half a score o' years sin' syne."</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER LVIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE TRENCH.</h4>
+
+<p>Malcolm had not yet, after all the health-giving of the voyage, entirely
+recovered the effects of the ill-compounded potion. Indeed, sometimes
+the fear crossed his mind that never would he be the same man
+again&mdash;that the slow furnace of the grave alone would destroy the vile
+deposit left in his house of life. Hence it came that he was weary, and
+overslept himself the next morning; but it was no great matter: he had
+yet time enough. He swallowed his breakfast as a working man alone can,
+and set out for Duff Harbor. At Leith, where they had put in for
+provisions, he had posted a letter to Mr. Soutar, directing him to have
+Kelpie brought on to his own town, whence he would fetch her himself.
+The distance was about ten miles, the hour eight, and he was a good
+enough walker, although boats and horses had combined to prevent him, he
+confessed, from getting over-fond of Shank's mare. To men who delight in
+the motions of a horse under them the legs of a man are a tame, dull
+means of progression, although they too have their superiorities; and
+one of the disciplines of this world is to get out of the saddle and
+walk afoot. He who can do so with perfect serenity must very nearly have
+learned with Saint Paul in whatsoever state he is, therein to be
+content. It was the loveliest of mornings, however, to be abroad in upon
+any terms, and Malcolm hardly needed the resources of one who knew both
+how to be abased and how to abound&mdash;enviable perfection!&mdash;for the
+enjoyment of even a long walk. Heaven and earth were just settling to
+the work of the day after their morning prayer, and the whole face of
+things yet wore something of that look of expectation which one who
+mingles the vision of the poet with the faith of the Christian may well
+imagine to be their upward look of hope after a night of groaning and
+travailing&mdash;the earnest gaze of the creature waiting for the
+manifestation of the sons of God; and for himself, though the hardest
+thing was yet to come, there was a satisfaction in finding himself
+almost up to his last fence, with the heavy ploughed land through which
+he had been floundering nearly all behind him; which figure means that
+he had almost made up his mind what to do.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the Duff Arms he walked straight into the yard, where
+the first thing he saw was a stable-boy in the air, hanging on to a
+twitch on the nose of the rearing Kelpie. In another instant he would
+have been killed or maimed for life, and Kelpie loose and scouring the
+streets of Duff Harbor. When she heard Malcolm's voice and the sound of
+his running feet she dropped as if to listen. He flung the boy aside and
+caught her halter. Once or twice more she reared in the vain hope of so
+ridding herself of the pain that clung to her lip and nose, nor did she,
+through the mist of her anger and suffering, quite recognize<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> her master
+in his yacht-uniform. But the torture decreasing, she grew able to scent
+his presence, welcomed him with her usual glad whinny, and allowed him
+to to do with her as he would.</p>
+
+<p>Having fed her, found Mr. Soutar and arranged several matters with him,
+he set out for home.</p>
+
+<p>That was a ride! Kelpie was mad with life. Every available field he
+jumped her into, and she tore its element of space at least to shreds
+with her spurning hoofs. But the distance was not great enough to quiet
+her before they got to hard turnpike and young plantations. He would
+have entered at the grand gate, but found no one at the lodge, for the
+factor, to save a little, had dismissed the old keeper. He had therefore
+to go on, and through the town, where, to the awe-stricken eyes of the
+population peeping from doors and windows, it seemed as if the terrible
+horse would carry him right over the roofs of the fisher-cottages below
+and out to sea. "Eh, but he's a terrible cratur, that Ma'colm MacPhail!"
+said the old wives to each other, and felt there must be something
+wicked in him to ride like that.</p>
+
+<p>But he turned her aside from the steep hill, and passed along the street
+that led to the town-gate of the House. Whom should he see, as he turned
+into it, but Mrs. Catanach, standing on her own doorstep, opposite the
+descent to the Seaton, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking far
+out over the water through the green smoke of the village below! It had
+been her wont to gaze thus since ever he could remember her, though what
+she could at such times be looking for, except it were the devil in
+person, he found it hard to conjecture. At the sound of his approach she
+turned; and such an expression crossed her face in a momentary flash ere
+she disappeared in the house as added considerably to his knowledge of
+fallen humanity. Before he reached her door she was out again, tying on
+a clean white apron as she came, and smiling like a dark pool in
+sunshine. She dropped a low curtsey, and looked as if she had been
+occupying her house for months of his absence. But Malcolm would not
+meet even cunning with its own weapons, and therefore turned away his
+head and took no notice of her. She ground her teeth with the fury of
+hate, and swore that she would yet disappoint him of his purpose,
+whatever it were, in this masquerade of service. Her heart being
+scarcely of the calibre to comprehend one like Malcolm's, her theories
+for the interpretation of the mystery were somewhat wild and altogether
+of a character unfit to see the light.</p>
+
+<p>The keeper of the town-gate greeted Malcolm, as he let him in, with a
+pleased old face and words of welcome, but added instantly, as if it was
+no time for the indulgence of friendship, that it was a terrible
+business going on at the Nose.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Malcolm in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Ye hae been ower lang awa', I doobt," answered the man, "to ken hoo the
+factor&mdash;But, Lord save ye! haud yer tongue," he interjected, looking
+fearfully around him. "Gien he kenned 'at I said sic a thing, he wad
+turn me oot o' hoose an' ha'."</p>
+
+<p>"You've said nothing yet," returned Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>"I said <i>factor</i>, an' that same's 'maist eneuch, for he's like a roarin'
+lion an' a ragin' bear amang the people; an' that sin' ever ye gaed. Bow
+o' Meal said i' the meetin' the ither nicht 'at he bude to be the verra
+man, the wickit ruler propheseed o' sae lang sin' syne i' the beuk o'
+the Proverbs. Eh! it's an awfu' thing to be foreordeent to
+oonrichteousness!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you haven't told me what is the matter at Scaurnose," said Malcolm
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"Ow, it's jist this&mdash;'at this same's Midsimmer Day, an' Blue
+Peter&mdash;honest fallow!&mdash;he's been for the last three month un'er nottice
+frae the factor to quit. An' sae, ye see&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"To quit!" exclaimed Malcolm. "Sic a thing was never h'ard tell o'."</p>
+
+<p>"Haith! it's h'ard tell o' noo," returned the gate-keeper. "Quittin' 's
+as plenty as quicken (<i>couch-grass</i>). 'Deed, there's maist naething
+ither h'ard tell o' <i>bit</i> quittin', for the full half o' Scaurnose is
+un'er like nottice for Michaelmas, an' the Lord kens what it 'll a' en'
+in!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But what's it for? Blue Peter's no the man to misbehave himsel'."</p>
+
+<p>"Weel, ye ken mair yersel' nor ony ither as to the warst fau't there is
+to lay till 's chairge; for they say&mdash;that is, <i>some</i> say&mdash;it's a' yer
+ain wyte, Ma'colm."</p>
+
+<p>"What mean ye, man? Speyk oot," said Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>"They say it's a' anent the abduckin' o' the markis's boat, 'at you an'
+him gaed aff wi' thegither."</p>
+
+<p>"That'll hardly haud, seein' the marchioness hersel' cam' hame in her
+the last nicht."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, but ye see the decree's gane oot, and what the factor says is like
+the laws o' the Medes an' Persians, 'at they say's no to be altert: I
+kenna mysel'."</p>
+
+<p>"Ow weel, gien that be a', I'll see efter that wi' the marchioness."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, but ye see there's a lot o' the laads there, as I'm tellt, 'at has
+vooed 'at factor nor factor's man sall never set fut in Scaurnose frae
+this day furth. Gang ye doon to the Seaton, an' see hoo mony o' yer auld
+freen's ye'll fin' there. Man, there a' oot to Scaurnose to see the
+plisky. The factor he's there, I ken&mdash;and some constables wi' 'im&mdash;to
+see 'at his order's cairried oot. An' the laads they hae been
+fortifeein' the place, as they ca' 't, for the last ook. They've howkit
+a trenk, they tell me, 'at nane but a hunter on 's horse cud win ower,
+an' they're postit alang the toon-side o' 't wi' sticks an' stanes an
+boat-heuks, an' guns an' pistils. An' gien there bena a man or twa killt
+a'ready&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Before he finished his sentence Kelpie was leveling herself along the
+road for the sea-gate.</p>
+
+<p>Johnny Bykes was locking it on the other side, in haste to secure his
+eye-share of what was going on, when he caught sight of Malcolm tearing
+up. Mindful of the old grudge, also that there was no marquis now to
+favor his foe, he finished the arrested act of turning the key, drew it
+from the lock, and to Malcolm's orders, threats and appeals returned for
+all answer that he had no time to attend to <i>him</i>, and so left him
+looking through the bars. Malcolm dashed across the burn, and round the
+base of the hill on which stood the little wind-god blowing his horn,
+dismounted, unlocked the door in the wall, got Kelpie through, and was
+in the saddle again before Johnny was halfway from the gate. When the
+churl saw him he trembled, turned and ran for its shelter again in
+terror, nor perceived until he reached it that the insulted groom had
+gone off like the wind in the opposite direction.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm soon left the high-road and cut across the fields, over which
+the wind bore cries and shouts, mingled with laughter and the animal
+sounds of coarse jeering. When he came nigh the cart-road which led into
+the village he saw at the entrance of the street a crowd, and rising
+from it the well-known shape of the factor on his horse. Nearer the sea,
+where was another entrance through the back yards of some cottages, was
+a smaller crowd. Both were now pretty silent, for the attention of all
+was fixed on Malcolm's approach. As he drew up Kelpie foaming and
+prancing, and the group made way for her, he saw a deep wide ditch
+across the road, on whose opposite side was ranged irregularly the
+flower of Scaurnose's younger manhood, calmly, even merrily, prepared to
+defend their entrenchment. They had been chaffing the factor, and loudly
+challenging the constables to come on, when they recognized Malcolm in
+the distance, and expectancy stayed the rush of their bruising wit. For
+they regarded him as beyond a doubt come from the marchioness with
+messages of good-will. When he rode up, therefore, they raised a great
+shout, every one welcoming him by name. But the factor&mdash;who, to judge by
+appearances, had had his forenoon dram ere he left home&mdash;burning with
+wrath, moved his horse in between Malcolm and the ditch. He had
+self-command enough left, however, to make one attempt at the loftily
+superior. "Pray what is your business?" he said, as if he had never seen
+Malcolm in his life before. "I presume you come with a message."</p>
+
+<p>"I come to beg you, sir, not to go farther with this business. Surely
+the punishment is already enough," said Malcolm respectfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who sends me the message?" asked the factor, his lips pressed together
+and his eyes flaming.</p>
+
+<p>"One," answered Malcolm, "who has some influence for justice, and will
+use it upon whichever side the justice may lie."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to hell!" cried the factor, losing utterly his slender self-command
+and raising his whip.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm took no heed of the gesture, for he was at the moment beyond his
+reach. "Mr. Crathie," he said calmly, "you are banishing the best man in
+the place."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt! no doubt! seeing he's a crony of yours," laughed the factor
+in mighty scorn.&mdash;"A canting, prayer-meeting rascal!" he added.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that ony waur nor a drucken elyer o' the kirk?" cried Dubs from the
+other side of the ditch, raising a roar of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>The very purple left the factor's face and turned to a corpse-like gray
+in the fire of his fury.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, my men! that's going too far," said Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>"An' wha ir ye for a fudgie (<i>truant</i>) fisher, to gie coonsel ohn
+speired?" shouted Dubs, altogether disappointed in the part Malcolm
+seemed only able to take. "Haud to the factor there wi' yer coonsel!"</p>
+
+<p>"Get out of my way!" said Mr. Crathie through his set teeth, and came
+straight upon Malcolm. "Home with you, or-r-r-r&mdash;" And again he raised
+his whip, this time plainly with intent.</p>
+
+<p>"For God's sake, factor, min' the mere!" cried Malcolm. "Ribs an' legs
+an' a' 'ill be to crack gien ye anger her wi' yer whuppin'!" As he spoke
+he drew a little aside, that the factor might pass if he pleased. A
+noise arose in the smaller crowd, and Malcolm turned to see what it
+meant: off his guard, he received a stinging cut over the head from the
+factor's whip. Simultaneously, Kelpie stood up on end, and Malcolm tore
+the weapon from the treacherous hand. "If I gave you what you deserve,
+Mr. Crathie, I should knock you and your horse together into that ditch.
+A touch of the spur would do it. I am not quite sure that I ought not.
+A nature like yours takes forbearance for fear." While he spoke, his
+mare was ramping and kicking, making a clean sweep all about her. Mr.
+Crathie's horse turned restive from sympathy, and it was all his rider
+could do to keep his seat. As soon as he got Kelpie a little quieter,
+Malcolm drew near and returned him his whip. He snatched it from his
+outstretched hand and essayed a second cut at him, which Malcolm
+rendered powerless by pushing Kelpie close up to him. Then suddenly
+wheeling, he left him.</p>
+
+<p>On the other side of the trench the fellows were shouting and roaring
+with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Men!" cried Malcolm, "you have no right to stop up this road. I want to
+go and see Blue Peter."</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, than!" cried one of the young men, emulous of Dubs's humor,
+and spread out his arms as if to receive Kelpie to his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand out of the way: I'm coming," said Malcolm. As he spoke he took
+Kelpie a little round, keeping out of the way of the factor, who sat
+trembling with rage on his still excited animal, and sent her at the
+trench. The Deevil's Jock, as they called him, kept jumping, with his
+arms outspread, from one place to another, as if to receive Kelpie's
+charge; but when he saw her actually coming, in short, quick bounds,
+straight to the trench, he was seized with terror, and, half paralyzed,
+slipped as he turned to flee and rolled into the ditch, just in time to
+see Kelpie fly over his head. His comrades scampered right and left, and
+Malcolm, rather disgusted, took no notice of them.</p>
+
+<p>A cart, loaded with their little all, the horse in the shafts, was
+standing at Peter's door, but nobody was near it. Hardly had Malcolm
+entered the close, however, when out rushed Annie, and heedless of
+Kelpie's demonstrative repellence, reached up her hands like a child,
+caught him by the arm while yet he was busied with his troublesome
+charge, drew him down toward her and held him till, in spite of Kelpie,
+she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> kissed him again and again. "Eh, Ma'colm! eh, my lord!" she
+said, "ye hae saved my faith. I kenned ye wad come."</p>
+
+<p>"Haud yer tongue, Annie: I maunna be kenned," said Malcolm.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nae danger. They'll tak it for sweirin'," said Annie, laughing
+and crying both at once.</p>
+
+<p>But next came Blue Peter, his youngest child in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh, Peter, man! I'm bleythe to see ye," cried Malcolm. "Gie 's a grup
+o' yer honest han'."</p>
+
+<p>More than even the sight of his face, beaming with pleasure, more than
+that grasp of the hand that would have squeezed the life out of a
+polecat, was the sound of the mother-tongue from his lips. The cloud of
+Peter's long distrust broke and vanished, and the sky of his soul was
+straightway a celestial blue. He snatched his hand from Malcolm's,
+walked back into the empty house, ran into the little closet off the
+kitchen, bolted the door, fell on his knees in the void little sanctuary
+that had of late been the scene of so many foiled attempts to lift up
+his heart, and poured out speechless thanksgiving to the God of all
+grace and consolation, who had given him back his friend, and that in
+the time of his sore need. So true was his heart in its love that,
+giving thanks for his friend, he forgot he was the marquis of Lossie,
+before whom his enemy was but as a snail in the sun. When he rose from
+his knees and went out again, his face shining and his eyes misty, his
+wife was on the top of the cart, tying a rope across the cradle.</p>
+
+<p>"Peter," said Malcolm, "ye was quite richt to gang, but I'm glaid they
+didna lat ye."</p>
+
+<p>"I wad hae been halfw'y to Port Gordon or noo," said Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"But noo ye'll no gang to Port Gordon," said Malcolm. "Ye'll jist gang
+to the Salmon for a feow days till we see hoo things'll gang."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll du onything ye like, Ma'colm," said Peter, and went into the house
+to fetch his bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>In the street arose the cry of a woman, and into the close rushed one of
+the fisher-wives, followed by the factor. He had found a place on the
+eastern side of the village, whither he had slipped unobserved, where,
+jumping a low earth-wall, he got into a little back yard. He was
+trampling over its few stocks of kail and its one dusty miller and
+double daisy when the woman to whose cottage it belonged caught sight of
+him through her window, and running out fell to abusing him, doubtless
+in no measured language. He rode at her in his rage, and she fled
+shrieking into Peter's close and behind the cart, never ceasing her
+vituperation, but calling him every choice name in her vocabulary.
+Beside himself with the rage of murdered dignity, he struck at her over
+the corner of the cart. Thereupon from the top of it Annie Mair ventured
+to expostulate: "Hoot, sir! It's no mainners to lat at a wuman like
+that."</p>
+
+<p>He turned upon her, and gave her a cut on the arm and hand so stinging
+that she cried out, and nearly fell from the cart. Out rushed Peter and
+flew at the factor, who from his seat of vantage began to ply his whip
+about his head. But Malcolm, who, when the factor appeared, had moved
+aside to keep Kelpie out of mischief, and saw only the second of the two
+assaults, came forward with a scramble and a bound. "Haud awa', Peter!"
+he cried: "this belangs to me. I gae 'im back 's whup, an' sae I'm
+accoontable.&mdash;Mr. Crathie"&mdash;and as he spoke he edged his mare up to the
+panting factor&mdash;"the man who strikes a woman must be taught that he is a
+scoundrel, and that office I take. I would do the same if you were the
+lord of Lossie instead of his factor."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Crathie, knowing himself now in the wrong, was a little frightened
+at the set speech, and began to bluster and stammer, but the swift
+descent of Malcolm's heavy riding-whip on his shoulders and back made
+him voluble in curses. Then began a battle that could not last long with
+such odds on the side of justice. It was gazed at from the mouth of the
+close by many spectators, but none dared enter because of the capering
+and plunging and kicking of the horses. In less than a minute the
+factor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> turned to flee, and spurring out of the court galloped up the
+street at full stretch.</p>
+
+<p>"Haud oot o' the gait!" cried Malcolm, and rode after him. But more
+careful of the people, he did not get a good start, and the factor was
+over the trench and into the fields before he caught him up. Then again
+the stinging switch buckled about the shoulders of the oppressor with
+all the force of Malcolm's brawny arm. The factor yelled and cursed and
+swore, and still Malcolm plied the whip, and still the horses flew over
+fields and fences and ditches. At length in the last field, from which
+they must turn into the high-road, the factor groaned out, "For God's
+sake, Ma'colm, hae mercy!"</p>
+
+<p>The youth's uplifted arm fell by his side. He turned his mare's head,
+and when the factor ventured to turn his, he saw the avenger already
+halfway back to Scaurnose, and the constables in full flight meeting
+him.</p>
+
+<p>While Malcolm was thus occupied his sister was writing to Lady Bellair.
+She told her that, having gone out for a sail in her yacht, which she
+had sent for from Scotland, the desire to see her home had overpowered
+her to such a degree that of the intended sail she had made a voyage,
+and here she was, longing just as much now to see Lady Bellair; and if
+she thought proper to bring a gentleman with her to take care of her, he
+also should be welcome for her sake. It was a long way for her to come,
+she said, and Lady Bellair knew what sort of a place it was, but there
+was nobody in London now, and if she had nothing more enticing on her
+tablets, etc., etc. She ended with begging her, if she was inclined to
+make her happy with her presence, to bring to her Caley and her hound
+Demon. She had hardly finished when Malcolm presented himself. She
+received him very coldly, and declined to listen to anything about the
+fishers. She insisted that, being one of their party, he was prejudiced
+in their favor, and that of course a man of Mr. Crathie's experience
+must know better than he what ought to be done with such people in view
+of protecting her rights and keeping them in order. She declared that
+she was not going to disturb the old way of things to please him, and
+said that he had now done her all the mischief he could, except indeed
+he were to head the fishers and sack Lossie House. Malcolm found that
+instead of gaining any advantage by making himself known to her as her
+brother, he had but given her confidence in speaking her mind to him,
+and set her free from considerations of personal dignity when she
+desired to humiliate him. But he was a good deal surprised at the
+ability with which she set forth and defended her own view of her
+affairs, for she did not tell him that the Rev. Mr. Cairns had been with
+her all the morning, flattering her vanity, worshiping her power and
+generally instructing her in her own greatness&mdash;also putting in a word
+or two anent his friend Mr. Crathie, and his troubles with her
+ladyship's fisher-tenants. She was still, however, so far afraid of her
+brother&mdash;which state of feeling was perhaps the main cause of her
+insulting behavior to him&mdash;that she sat in some dread lest he might
+chance to see the address of the letter she had been writing.</p>
+
+<p>I may mention here that Lady Bellair accepted the invitation with
+pleasure for herself and Liftore, promised to bring Caley, but utterly
+declined to take charge of Demon or allow him to be of the party.
+Thereupon, Florimel, who was fond of the animal, and feared much, as he
+was no favorite, that something would <i>happen</i> to him, wrote to
+Clementina, praying her to visit her in her lovely loneliness&mdash;good as
+The Gloom in its way, though not quite so dark&mdash;and to add a hair to the
+weight of her obligation if she complied by allowing her deerhound to
+accompany her. Clementina was the only one, she said, of her friends for
+whom the animal had ever shown a preference.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm retired from his sister's presence much depressed, saw Mrs.
+Courthope, who was kind as ever, and betook himself to his old room,
+next to that in which his strange history began. There he sat down and
+wrote urgently to Lenorme, stating that he had an important
+communication to make, and begging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> him to start for the North the
+moment he received the letter. A messenger from Duff Harbor well mounted
+would ensure Malcolm's presence within a couple of hours.</p>
+
+<p>He found the behavior of his old acquaintances and friends in the Seaton
+much what he had expected: the few were as cordial as ever, while the
+many still resented, with a mingling of the jealousy of affection, his
+forsaking of the old life for one they regarded as unworthy of a bred at
+least, if not born, fisherman. A few there were still who always had
+been, for reasons known only to themselves, less than friendly. The
+women were all cordial.</p>
+
+<p>"Sic a mad-like thing," said old Futtocks, who was now the leader of the
+assembly at the Barn, "to gang scoorin' the cuintry on that mad brute o'
+a mere! What guid, think ye, can come o' sic-like?"</p>
+
+<p>"H'ard ye 'im ever tell the story aboot Colonsay Castel yon'er?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, hev I."</p>
+
+<p>"Weel, isna his mere 'at they ca' Kelpie jest the pictur' o' the deil's
+ain horse 'at lay at the door an' watched whan he flaw oot, an' tuik the
+wa' wi' 'im?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cudna say till I saw whether the deil himsel' cud gar her lie still."</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER LIX.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE PEACEMAKER.</h4>
+
+<p>The heroes of Scaurnose expected a renewal of the attack, and in greater
+force, the next day, and made their preparations accordingly,
+strengthening every weak point around the village. They were put in
+great heart by Malcolm's espousal of their cause, as they considered his
+punishment of the factor; but most of them set it down in their wisdom
+as resulting from the popular condemnation of his previous supineness.
+It did not therefore add greatly to his influence with them. When he
+would have prevailed upon them to allow Blue Peter to depart, arguing
+that they had less right to prevent than the factor had to compel him,
+they once more turned upon him: what right had he to dictate to them?
+he did not belong to Scaurnose. He reasoned with them that the factor,
+although he had not justice, had law on his side, and could turn out
+whom he pleased. They said, "Let him try it!" He told them that they had
+given great provocation, for he knew that the men they had assaulted
+came surveying for a harbor, and that they ought at least to make some
+apology for having maltreated them. It was all useless: that was the
+women's doing, they said; besides, they did not believe him; and if what
+he said was true, what was the thing to them, seeing they were all under
+notice to leave? Malcolm said that perhaps an apology would be accepted.
+They told him if he did not take himself off they would serve him as he
+had served the factor. Finding expostulation a failure, therefore, he
+begged Joseph and Annie to settle themselves again as comfortably as
+they could, and left them.</p>
+
+<p>Contrary to the expectation of all, however, and considerably to the
+disappointment of the party of Dubs, Fite Folp and the rest, the next
+day was as peaceful as if Scaurnose had been a halcyon nest floating on
+the summer waves; and it was soon reported that in consequence of the
+punishment he had received from Malcolm the factor was far too ill to be
+troublesome to any but his wife. This was true, but, severe as his
+chastisement was, it was not severe enough to have had any such
+consequences but for his late growing habit of drinking whisky. As it
+was, fever had followed upon the combination of bodily and mental
+suffering. But already it had wrought this good in him, that he was far
+more keenly aware of the brutality of the offence of which he had been
+guilty than he would otherwise have been all his life through. To his
+wife, who first learned the reason of Malcolm's treatment of him from
+his delirious talk in the night, it did not, circumstances considered,
+appear an enormity, and her indignation with the avenger of it, whom she
+had all but hated before, was furious. Malcolm, on his part, was greatly
+concerned to hear the result of his severity. He refrained,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> however,
+from calling to inquire, knowing it would be interpreted as an insult,
+not accepted as a sign of sympathy. He went to the doctor instead, who,
+to his consternation, looked very serious at first. But when he learned
+all about the affair, he changed his view considerably, and condescended
+to give good hopes of his coming through, even adding that it would
+lengthen his life by twenty years if it broke him of his habits of
+whisky-drinking and rage.</p>
+
+<p>And now Malcolm had a little time of leisure, which he put to the best
+possible use in strengthening his relations with the fishers. For he had
+nothing to do about the House except look after Kelpie; and Florimel, as
+if determined to make him feel that he was less to her than before, much
+as she used to enjoy seeing him sit his mare, never took him out with
+her&mdash;always Stoat. He resolved therefore, seeing he must yet delay
+action a while in the hope of the appearance of Lenorme, to go out as in
+the old days after the herring, both for the sake of splicing, if
+possible, what strands had been broken between him and the fishers, and
+of renewing for himself the delights of elemental conflict. With these
+views he hired himself to the Partan, whose boat's crew was
+short-handed. And now, night after night, he reveled in the old
+pleasure, enhanced by so many months of deprivation. Joy itself seemed
+embodied in the wind blowing on him out of the misty infinite while his
+boat rocked and swung on the waters, hanging between two worlds&mdash;that in
+which the wind blew, and that other dark-swaying mystery whereinto the
+nets to which it was tied went away down and down, gathering the harvest
+of the ocean. It was as if Nature called up all her motherhood to greet
+and embrace her long-absent son. When it came on to blow hard, as it did
+once and again during those summer nights, instead of making him feel
+small and weak in the midst of the storming forces, it gave him a
+glorious sense of power and unconquerable life. And when his watch was
+out, and the boat lay quiet, like a horse tethered and asleep in his
+clover-field, he too would fall asleep with a sense of simultaneously
+deepening and vanishing delight such as he had not at all in other
+conditions experienced. Ever since the poison had got into his system,
+and crept where it yet lay lurking in hidden corners and crannies, a
+noise at night would on shore startle him awake, and set his heart
+beating hard; but no loudest sea-noise ever woke him: the stronger the
+wind flapped its wings around him, the deeper he slept. When a comrade
+called him by name he was up at once and wide awake.</p>
+
+<p>It answered also all his hopes in regard to his companions and the
+fisher-folk generally. Those who had really known him found the same old
+Malcolm, and those who had doubted him soon began to see that at least
+he had lost nothing in courage or skill or good-will: ere long he was
+even a greater favorite than before. On his part, he learned to
+understand far better the nature of his people, as well as the
+individual characters of them, for his long (but not too long) absence
+and return enabled him to regard them with unaccustomed, and therefore
+in some respects more discriminating, eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Duncan's former dwelling happening to be then occupied by a lonely
+woman, Malcolm made arrangements with her to take them both in; so that
+in relation to his grandfather too something very much like the old life
+returned for a time&mdash;with this difference, that Duncan soon began to
+check himself as often as the name of his hate with its accompanying
+curse rose to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>The factor continued very ill. He had sunk into a low state, in which
+his former indulgence was greatly against him. Every night the fever
+returned, and at length his wife was worn out with watching and waiting
+upon him.</p>
+
+<p>And every morning Lizzy Findlay without fail called to inquire how Mr.
+Crathie had spent the night. To the last, while quarreling with every
+one of her neighbors with whom he had anything to do, he had continued
+kind to her, and she was more grateful than one in other trouble than
+hers could have understood. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> she did not know that an element in the
+origination of his kindness was the belief that it was by Malcolm she
+had been wronged and forsaken.</p>
+
+<p>Again and again she had offered, in the humblest manner, to ease his
+wife's burden by sitting with him at night; and at last, finding she
+could hold up no longer, Mrs. Crathie consented. But even after a week
+she found herself still unable to resume the watching, and so, night
+after night, resting at home during a part of the day, Lizzy sat by the
+sleeping factor, and when he woke ministered to him like a daughter. Nor
+did even her mother object, for sickness is a wondrous reconciler.
+Little did the factor suspect, however, that it was partly for Malcolm's
+sake she nursed him, anxious to shield the youth from any possible
+consequences of his righteous vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>While their persecutor lay thus, gradually everything at Scaurnose, and
+consequently at the Seaton, lapsed into its old way, and the summer of
+such content as before they had possessed returned to the fishers. I
+fear it would have proved hard for some of them, had they made effort in
+that direction, to join in the prayer&mdash;if prayer it may be called&mdash;put
+up in church for him every Sunday. What a fearful canopy the prayers
+that do not get beyond the atmosphere would make if they turned brown
+with age! Having so lately seen the factor going about like a maniac,
+raving at this piece of damage and that heap of dirt, the few fishers
+present could never help smiling when Mr. Cairns prayed for
+him as "the servant of God and his Church now lying grievously
+afflicted&mdash;persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed."
+Having found the fitting phrases, he seldom varied them.</p>
+
+<p>Through her sorrow Lizzy had grown tender, as through her shame she had
+grown wise. That the factor had been much in the wrong only rendered her
+anxious sympathy the more eager to serve him. Knowing so well what it
+was to have done wrong, she was pitiful over him, and her ministrations
+were none the less devoted that she knew exactly how Malcolm thought and
+felt about him; for the affair, having taken place in open village and
+wide field and in the light of mid-day, and having been reported by
+eye-witnesses many, was everywhere perfectly known, and Malcolm
+therefore talked of it freely to his friends&mdash;among them both to Lizzy
+and her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Sickness sometimes works marvelous changes, and the most marvelous on
+persons who to the ordinary observer seem the least liable to change.
+Much apparent steadfastness of nature, however, is but sluggishness, and
+comes from incapacity to generate change or contribute toward personal
+growth; and it follows that those whose nature is such can as little
+prevent or retard any change that has its initiative beyond them. The
+men who impress the world as the mightiest are those often who <i>can</i> the
+least&mdash;never those who can the most in their natural kingdom; generally
+those whose frontiers lie openest to the inroads of temptation, whose
+atmosphere is most subject to moody changes and passionate convulsions,
+who, while perhaps they can whisper laws to a hemisphere, can utter no
+decree of smallest potency as to how things shall be within themselves.
+Place Alexander ille Magnus beside Malcolm's friend Epictetus, ille
+servorum servus&mdash;take his crutch from the slave and set the hero upon
+his Bucephalus, but set them alone and in a desert&mdash;which will prove the
+great man? which the unchangeable? The question being what the man
+himself shall or shall not be, shall or shall not feel, shall or shall
+not recognize as of himself and troubling the motions of his being,
+Alexander will prove a mere earth-bubble, Epictetus a cavern in which
+pulses the tide of the eternal and infinite Sea.</p>
+
+<p>But then first, when the false strength of the self-imagined great man
+is gone, when the want or the sickness has weakened the self-assertion
+which is so often mistaken for strength of individuality, when the
+occupations in which he formerly found a comfortable consciousness of
+being have lost their interest, his ambitions their glow and his
+consolations their color, when suffering has wasted away those upper
+strata of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> factitious consciousness, and laid bare the lower,
+simpler, truer deeps, of which he has never known or has forgotten the
+existence, then there is a hope of his commencing a new and real life.
+Powers then, even powers within himself, of which he knew nothing, begin
+to assert themselves, and the man commonly reported to possess a strong
+will is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. This
+factor, this man of business, this despiser of humbug, to whom the
+scruples of a sensitive conscience were a contempt, would now lie awake
+in the night and weep. "Ah!" I hear it answered, "but that was the
+weakness caused by his illness." True; but what then had become of his
+strength? And was it all weakness? What if this weakness was itself a
+sign of returning life, not of advancing death&mdash;of the dawn of a new and
+genuine strength? For he wept because in the visions of his troubled
+brain he saw once more the cottage of his father the shepherd, with all
+its store of lovely nothings round which the nimbus of sanctity had
+gathered while he thought not of them; wept over the memory of that
+moment of delight when his mother kissed him for parting with his willow
+whistle to the sister who cried for it: he cried now in his turn, after
+five-and-fifty years, for not yet had the little fact done with him, not
+yet had the kiss of his mother lost its power on the man; wept over the
+sale of the pet lamb, though he had himself sold thousands of lambs
+since; wept over even that bush of dusty miller by the door, like the
+one he trampled under his horse's feet in the little yard at Scaurnose
+that horrible day. And oh that nest of wild bees with its combs of honey
+unspeakable! He used to laugh and sing then: he laughed still
+sometimes&mdash;he could hear how he laughed, and it sounded frightful&mdash;but
+he never sang. Were the tears that honored such childish memories all of
+weakness? Was it cause of regret that he had not been wicked enough to
+have become impregnable to such foolish trifles? Unable to mount a
+horse, unable to give an order, not caring even for his toddy, he was
+left at the mercy of his fundamentals: his childhood came up and
+claimed him, and he found the childish things he had put away better
+than the manly things he had adopted. It is one thing for Saint Paul and
+another for Mr. Worldly Wiseman to put away childish things. The ways
+they do it, and the things they substitute, are both so different! And
+now first to me, whose weakness it is to love life more than manners,
+and men more than their portraits, the man begins to grow interesting.
+Picture the dawn of innocence on a dull, whisky-drinking, commonplace
+soul, stained by self-indulgence and distorted by injustice! Unspeakably
+more interesting and lovely is to me such a dawn than the honeymoon of
+the most passionate of lovers, except indeed I know them such lovers
+that their love will out-last all the moons.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a poor creature, Lizzy," he said, turning his heavy face one
+midnight toward the girl as she sat half dozing, ready to start awake.</p>
+
+<p>"God comfort ye, sir!" said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll take good care of that," returned the factor. "What did I ever do
+to deserve it? There's that MacPhail, now&mdash;to think of <i>him</i>! Didn't I
+do what man could for him? Didn't I keep him about the place when all
+the rest were dismissed? Didn't I give him the key of the library, that
+he might read and improve his mind? And look what comes of it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye mean, sir," said Lizzy, quite innocently, "'at that's the w'y ye
+ha'e dune wi' God, an' sae he winna heed ye?"</p>
+
+<p>The factor had meant nothing in the least like it. He had merely been
+talking as the imps of suggestion tossed up. His logic was as sick and
+helpless as himself. So at that he held his peace, stung in his pride at
+least&mdash;perhaps in his conscience too, only he was not prepared to be
+rebuked by a girl like her, who had&mdash;Well, he must let it pass: how much
+better was he himself?</p>
+
+<p>But Lizzy was loyal: she could not hear him speak so of Malcolm and hold
+her peace as if she agreed in his condemnation. "Ye'll ken Ma'colm
+better some day, sir," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Lizzy," returned the sick man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> in a tone that but for feebleness
+would have been indignant, "I have heard a good deal of the way women
+<i>will</i> stand up for men that have treated them cruelly, but you to stand
+up for <i>him</i> passes!"</p>
+
+<p>"He's been the best friend I ever had," said Lizzy.</p>
+
+<p>"Girl! how can you sit there, and tell me so to my face?" cried the
+factor, his voice strengthened by the righteousness of the reproof it
+bore. "If it were not the dead of the night&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I tell ye naething but the trowth, sir," said Lizzy as the contingent
+threat died away. "But ye maun lie still or I maun gang for the
+mistress. Gien ye be the waur the morn, it'll be a' my wyte, 'cause I
+cudna bide to hear sic things said o' Ma'colm."</p>
+
+<p>"Do ye mean to tell me," persisted her charge, heedless of her
+expostulation, "that the fellow who brought you to disgrace, and left
+you with a child you could ill provide for&mdash;and I well know never sent
+you a penny all the time he was away, whatever he may have done now&mdash;is
+the best friend you ever had?"</p>
+
+<p>"Noo God forgie ye, Maister Crathie, for threipin' sic a thing!" cried
+Lizzy, rising as if she would leave him. "Ma'colm MacPhail's as clear o'
+ony sin like mine as my wee bairnie itsel'."</p>
+
+<p>"Do ye daur tell <i>me</i> he's no the father o' that same, lass?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>No</i>; nor never will be the father o' ony bairn whase mither's no his
+wife!" said Lizzy, with burning cheeks but resolute voice.</p>
+
+<p>The factor, who had risen on his elbow to look her in the face, fell
+back in silence, and neither of them spoke for what seemed to the
+watcher a long time. When she ventured to look at him, he was asleep.</p>
+
+<p>He lay in one of those troubled slumbers into which weakness and
+exhaustion will sometimes pass very suddenly; and in that slumber he had
+a dream which he never forgot. He thought he had risen from his grave
+with an awful sound in his ears, and knew he was wanted at the
+judgment-seat. But he did not want to go, therefore crept into the porch
+of the church and hoped to be forgotten. But suddenly an angel appeared
+with a flaming sword, and drove him out of the churchyard away to
+Scaurnose, where the Judge was sitting. And as he fled in terror before
+the angel he fell, and the angel came and stood over him, and his sword
+flashed torture into his bones, but he could not and dared not rise. At
+last, summoning all his strength, he looked up at him and cried out,
+"Sir, hae mercy, for God's sake!" Instantly all the flames drew back
+into the sword, and the blade dropped, burning like a brand from the
+hilt, which the angel threw away. And lo! it was Malcolm MacPhail, and
+he was stooping to raise him. With that he awoke, and there was Lizzy
+looking down on him anxiously. "What are you looking like that for?" he
+asked crossly.</p>
+
+<p>She did not like to tell him that she had been alarmed by his dropping
+asleep, and in her confusion she fell back on the last subject. "There
+maun be some mistak, Mr. Crathie," she said. "I wuss ye wad tell me what
+gars ye hate Ma'colm MacPhail as ye du."</p>
+
+<p>The factor, although he seemed to himself to know well enough, was yet a
+little puzzled how to commence his reply; and therewith a process began
+that presently turned into something with which never in his life before
+had his inward parts been acquainted&mdash;a sort of self-examination, to
+wit. He said to himself, partly in the desire to justify his present
+dislike&mdash;he would not call it hate, as Lizzy did&mdash;that he used to get on
+with the lad well enough, and had never taken offence at his freedoms,
+making no doubt his manner came of his blood, and he could not help it,
+being a chip of the old block; but when he ran away with the marquis's
+boat, and went to the marchioness and told her lies against him, then
+what could he do but&mdash;dislike him?</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at this point, he opened his mouth and gave the substance of
+what preceded it for answer to Lizzy's question. But she replied at
+once: "Nobody 'ill gar me believe, sir, 'at Ma'colm MacPhail ever tellt
+a lee again' you or onybody. I dinna believe he ever tellt a lee in 's
+life. Jist ye exem' him weel anent it, sir. An' for the boat, nae doobt
+it was makin' free to tak it; but ye ken, sir, 'at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> hoo he was maister
+o' the same. It was in his chairge, an' ye ken little aboot boats
+yersel' or the sailin' o' them, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"But it was me that engaged him again after all the servants at the
+House had been dismissed: he was <i>my</i> servant."</p>
+
+<p>"That maks the thing luik waur, nae doobt," allowed Lizzy, with
+something of cunning. "Hoo was't at he cam to du 't ava' (<i>of all at
+all</i>), sir? Can ye min'?" she pursued.</p>
+
+<p>"I discharged him."</p>
+
+<p>"An' what for, gien I may mak bold to speir, sir?" she went on.</p>
+
+<p>"For insolence."</p>
+
+<p>"Wad ye tell me hoo he answert ye? Dinna think me meddlin', sir: I'm
+clear certain there's been some mistak. Ye cudna be sae guid to me an'
+be ill to him, ohn some mistak."</p>
+
+<p>It was consoling to the conscience of the factor, in regard of his
+behavior to the two women, to hear his own praise for kindness from a
+woman's lips. He took no offence, therefore, at her persistent
+questioning, but told her as well and as truly as he could remember,
+with no more than the all-but unavoidable exaggeration with which
+feeling <i>will</i> color fact, the whole passage between Malcolm and himself
+concerning the sale of Kelpie, and closed with an appeal to the judgment
+of his listener, in which he confidently anticipated her verdict: "A
+most ridic'lous thing! ye can see yersel' as weel 's onybody, Lizzy. An'
+sic a thing to ca' an honest man like mysel' a hypocreet for! ha! ha!
+ha! There's no a bairn atween John o' Groat's an' the Lan's En' disna
+ken 'at the seller o' a horse is b'un' to reese (<i>extol</i>) him, an' the
+buyer to tak care o' himsel'. I'll no say it's jist allooable to tell a
+doonricht lee, but ye may come full nearer till't in horse-dealin', ohn
+sinned, nor in ony ither kin' o' merchandeze. It's like luve an' war, in
+baith which, it's weel kenned, a' thing's fair. The saw sud rin&mdash;<i>Luve
+an' war an' horse-dealin'.</i>&mdash;Divna ye see, Lizzy?"</p>
+
+<p>But Lizzy did not answer, and the factor, hearing a stifled sob, started
+to his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Lie still, sir!" said Lizzy. "It's naething. I was only jist thinkin'
+'at that wad be the w'y 'at the father o' my bairn rizzoned wi' himsel'
+whan he lee'd to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Hey!" said the astonished factor, and in his turn held his peace,
+trying to think.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Lizzy for the last few months had been going to school&mdash;the same
+school with Malcolm, open to all comers&mdash;the only school where one is
+sure to be led in the direction of wisdom&mdash;and there she had been
+learning to some purpose, as plainly appeared before she had done with
+the factor.</p>
+
+<p>"Whase Kirk are ye elder o', Maister Crathie?" she asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Ow, the Kirk o' Scotlan', of coorse," answered the patient, in some
+surprise at her ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay," returned Lizzy; "but whase aucht (<i>owning, property</i>) is 't?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ow, whase but the Redeemer's?"</p>
+
+<p>"An' div ye think, Mr. Crathie, 'at gien Jesus Christ had had a horse to
+sell, he wad hae hidden frae him 'at wad buy ae hair o' a fau't 'at the
+beast hed? Wad he no hae dune till's neiper as he wad hae his neiper du
+to him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lassie! lassie! tak care hoo ye even <i>Him</i> to sic-like as hiz (<i>us</i>).
+What wad <i>He</i> hae to du wi' horseflesh?"</p>
+
+<p>Lizzy held her peace. Here was no room for argument. He had flung the
+door of his conscience in the face of her who woke it. But it was too
+late, for the word was in already. Oh that false reverence which men
+substitute for adoring obedience, and wherewith they reprove the
+childlike spirit that does not know another kingdom than that of God and
+that of Mammon! God never gave man thing to do concerning which it were
+irreverent to ponder how the Son of God would have done it.</p>
+
+<p>But, I say, the word was in, and, partly no doubt from its following so
+close upon the dream the factor had had, was potent in its operation. He
+fell a-thinking, and a-thinking more honestly than he had thought for
+many a day. And presently it was revealed to him that, if he were in the
+horse-market wanting to buy, and a man there who had to sell said to
+him, "He wadna du for you, sir: ye wad be tired o' 'im in a week," he
+would never remark, "What a fool the fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> is!" but, "Weel, noo, I ca'
+that neiborly!" He did not get quite so far just then as to see that
+every man to whom he might want to sell a horse was as much his neighbor
+as his own brother; nor, indeed, if he had got as far, would it have
+indicated much progress in honesty, seeing he would at any time, when
+needful and possible, have cheated that brother in the matter of a horse
+as certainly as he would a Patagonian or Chinaman. But the warped glass
+of a bad maxim had at least been cracked in his window.</p>
+
+<p>The peacemaker sat in silence the rest of the night, but the factor's
+sleep was broken, and at times he wandered. He was not so well the next
+day, and his wife, gathering that Lizzy had been talking, and herself
+feeling better, would not allow her to sit up with him any more.</p>
+
+<p>Days and days passed, and still Malcolm had no word from Lenorme, and
+was getting hopeless in respect to that quarter of possible aid. But so
+long as Florimel could content herself with the quiet of Lossie House,
+there was time to wait, he said to himself. She was not idle, and that
+was promising. Every day she rode out with Stoat. Now and then she would
+make a call in the neighborhood, and, apparently to trouble Malcolm,
+took care to let him know that on one of these occasions her call had
+been upon Mrs. Stewart. One thing he did feel was, that she made no
+renewal of her friendship with his grandfather: she had, alas! outgrown
+the girlish fancy. Poor Duncan took it much to heart. She saw more of
+the minister and his wife&mdash;who both flattered her&mdash;than anybody else,
+and was expecting the arrival of Lady Bellair and Lord Liftore with the
+utmost impatience. They, for their part, were making the journey by the
+easiest possible stages, tacking and veering, and visiting every one of
+their friends that lay between London and Lossie: they thought to give
+Florimel the little lesson that, though they accepted her invitation,
+they had plenty of friends in the world besides her ladyship, and were
+not dying to see her.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, Malcolm, as he left the grounds of Mr. Morrison, on whom
+he had been calling, saw a traveling-carriage pass toward Portlossie,
+and something liker fear laid hold of his heart than he had ever felt
+except when Florimel and he on the night of the storm took her father
+for Lord Gernon the wizard. As soon as he reached certain available
+fields, he sent Kelpie tearing across them, dodged through a fir wood,
+and came out on the road half a mile in front of the carriage: as again
+it passed him he saw that his fears were facts, for in it sat the
+bold-faced countess and the mean-hearted lord. Something <i>must</i> be done
+at last, and until it was done good watch must be kept.</p>
+
+<p>I must here note that during this time of hoping and waiting Malcolm had
+attended to another matter of importance. Over every element influencing
+his life, his family, his dependants, his property, he desired to
+possess a lawful, honest command: where he had to render account he
+would be head. Therefore, through Mr. Soutar's London agent, to whom he
+sent up Davy, and whom he brought acquainted with Merton and his former
+landlady at the curiosity-shop, he had discovered a good deal about Mrs.
+Catanach from her London associates, among them the herb-doctor and his
+little boy who had watched Davy; and he had now almost completed an
+outline of evidence which, grounded on that of Rose, might be used
+against Mrs. Catanach at any moment. He had also set inquiries on foot
+in the track of Caley's antecedents, and had discovered more than the
+acquaintance between her and Mrs. Catanach. Also he had arranged that
+Hodges, the man who had lost his leg through his cruelty to Kelpie,
+should leave for Duff Harbor as soon as possible after his discharge
+from the hospital. He was determined to crush the evil powers which had
+been ravaging his little world.</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER LX.</h3>
+
+<h4>AN OFFERING.</h4>
+
+<p>Clementina was always ready to accord any reasonable request Florimel
+could make of her; but her letter lifted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> such a weight from her heart
+and life that she would now have done whatever she desired, reasonable
+or unreasonable, provided only it was honest. She had no difficulty in
+accepting Florimel's explanation that her sudden disappearance was but a
+breaking of the social jail, the flight of the weary bird from its
+foreign cage back to the country of its nest; and that same morning she
+called upon Demon. The hound, feared and neglected, was rejoiced to see
+her, came when she called him, and received her caresses: there was no
+ground for dreading his company. It was a long journey, but if it had
+been across a desert instead of through her own country, the hope that
+lay at the end of it would have made it more than pleasant. She, as well
+as Lady Bellair, had friends upon the way, but no desire either to
+lengthen the journey or shorten its tedium by visiting them.</p>
+
+<p>The letter would have found her at Wastbeach instead of London had not
+the society and instructions of the schoolmaster detained her a willing
+prisoner to its heat and glare and dust. Him only in all London must she
+see to bid good-bye. To Camden Town therefore she went that same
+evening, when his work would be over for the day. As usual now, she was
+shown into his room&mdash;his only one. As usual also, she found him poring
+over his Greek Testament. The gracious, graceful woman looked lovelily
+strange in that mean chamber&mdash;like an opal in a brass ring. There was no
+such contrast between the room and its occupant. His bodily presence was
+too weak to "stick fiery off" from its surroundings, and to the eye that
+saw through the bodily presence to the inherent grandeur, that grandeur
+suggested no discrepancy, being of the kind that lifts everything to its
+own level, casts the mantle of its own radiance around its surroundings.
+Still, to the eye of love and reverence it was not pleasant to see him
+in such <i>entourage</i>, and now that Clementina was going to leave him, the
+ministering spirit that dwelt in the woman was troubled.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he said, and rose as she entered, "this is then the angel of my
+deliverance!" But with such a smile he did not look as if he had much to
+be delivered from. "You see," he went on, "old man as I am, and
+peaceful, the summer will lay hold upon me. She stretches out a long arm
+into this desert of houses and stones, and sets me longing after the
+green fields and the living air&mdash;it seems dead here&mdash;and the face of
+God, as much as one may behold of the Infinite through the revealing
+veil of earth and sky and sea. Shall I confess my weakness, my poverty
+of spirit, my covetousness after the visual? I was even getting a little
+tired of that glorious God-and-man lover, Saul of Tarsus: no, not of
+him, never of <i>him</i>, only of his shadow in his words. Yet perhaps&mdash;yes,
+I think so&mdash;it is God alone of whom a man can never get tired. Well, no
+matter: tired I was, when lo! here comes my pupil, with more of God in
+her face than all the worlds and their skies He ever made."</p>
+
+<p>"I would my heart were as full of Him too, then, sir," answered
+Clementina. "But if I am anything of a comfort to you, I am more than
+glad; therefore the more sorry to tell you that I am going to leave you,
+though for a little while only, I trust."</p>
+
+<p>"You do not take me by surprise, my lady. I have of course been looking
+forward for some time to my loss and your gain. The world is full of
+little deaths&mdash;deaths of all sorts and sizes, rather let me say. For
+this one I was prepared. The good summer-land calls you to its bosom,
+and you must go."</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me," cried Clementina, her eyes eager with the light of the
+sudden thought, while her heart reproached her grievously that only now
+first had it come to her.</p>
+
+<p>"A man must not leave the most irksome work for the most peaceful
+pleasure," answered the schoolmaster. "I am able to live&mdash;yes, and do my
+work&mdash;without you, my lady," he added with a smile, "though I shall miss
+you sorely."</p>
+
+<p>"But you do not know where I want you to come," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"What difference can that make, my lady, except indeed in the amount of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+pleasure to be refused, seeing this is not a matter of choice? I must be
+with the children whom I have engaged to teach, and whose parents pay me
+for my labor&mdash;not with those who, besides, can do well without me."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot, sir&mdash;not for long at least."</p>
+
+<p>"What! not with Malcolm to supply my place?"</p>
+
+<p>Clementina blushed, but only like a white rose. She did not turn her
+head aside; she did not lower their lids to veil the light she felt
+mount into her eyes; she looked him gently in the face as before, and
+her aspect of entreaty did not change. "Ah! do not be unkind, master,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Unkind!" he repeated. "You know I am not. I have more kindness in my
+heart than any lips can tell. You do not know, you could not yet
+imagine, the half of what I hope of and for and from you."</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>am</i> going to see Malcolm," she said with a little sigh. "That is, I
+am going to visit Lady Lossie at her place in Scotland&mdash;your own old
+home, where so many must love you. <i>Can't</i> you come? I shall be
+traveling alone, quite alone, except my servants."</p>
+
+<p>A shadow came over the schoolmaster's face: "You do not <i>think</i>, my
+lady, or you would not press me. It pains me that you do not see at once
+it would be dishonest to go without timely notice to my pupils, and to
+the public too. But, beyond that quite, I never do anything of myself. I
+go not where I wish, but where I seem to be called or sent. I never even
+wish much, except when I pray to Him in whom are hid all the treasures
+of wisdom and knowledge. After what He wants to give me I am wishing all
+day long. I used to build many castles, not without a beauty of their
+own&mdash;that was when I had less understanding&mdash;now I leave them to God to
+build for me: He does it better, and they last longer. See now, this
+very hour, when I needed help, could I have contrived a more lovely
+annihilation of the monotony that threatened to invade my weary spirit
+than this inroad of light in the person of my Lady Clementina? Nor will
+He allow me to get overwearied with vain efforts. I do not think He will
+keep me here long, for I find I cannot do much for these children. They
+are but some of His many pagans&mdash;not yet quite ready to receive
+Christianity, I think&mdash;not like children with some of the old seeds of
+the truth buried in them, that want to be turned up nearer to the light.
+This ministration I take to be more for my good than theirs&mdash;a little
+trial of faith and patience for me&mdash;a stony corner of the lovely valley
+of humiliation to cross. True, I <i>might</i> be happier where I could hear
+the larks, but I do not know that anywhere have I been more peaceful
+than in this little room, on which I see you so often cast round your
+eyes curiously, perhaps pitifully, my lady."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not at all a fit place for <i>you</i>," said Clementina with a touch
+of indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"Softly, my lady, lest, without knowing it, your love should make you
+sin. Who set thee, I pray, for a guardian angel over my welfare? I could
+scarce have a lovelier, true; but where is thy brevet? No, my lady: it
+is a greater than thou that sets me the bounds of my habitation. Perhaps
+He may give me a palace one day. If I might choose, it would be things
+that belong to a cottage&mdash;the whiteness and the greenness and the sweet
+odors of cleanliness. But the Father has decreed for His children that
+they shall know the thing that is neither their ideal nor His. Who can
+imagine how in this respect things looked to our Lord when He came and
+found so little faith on the earth? But perhaps, my lady, you would not
+pity my present condition so much if you had seen the cottage in which I
+was born, and where my father and mother loved each other, and died
+happier than on their wedding-day. There I was happy too until their
+loving ambition decreed that I should be a scholar and a clergyman. Not
+before then did I ever know anything worthy the name of trouble. A
+little cold and a little hunger at times, and not a little restlessness
+always, was all. But then&mdash;ah, then my troubles began. Yet God, who
+bringeth light out of darkness, hath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> brought good even out of my
+weakness and presumption and half-unconscious falsehood. When do you
+go?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow morning, as I purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"Then God be with thee! He <i>is</i> with thee, only my prayer is that thou
+mayst know it. He is with me, and I know it. He does not find this
+chamber too mean or dingy or unclean to let me know Him near me in it."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me one thing before I go," said Clementina: "are we not commanded
+to bear each other's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ? I read
+it to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why ask me?"</p>
+
+<p>"For another question: does not that involve the command to those who
+have burdens that they should allow others to bear them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, my lady. But <i>I</i> have no burden to let you bear."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I have everything and you nothing? Answer me that."</p>
+
+<p>"My lady, I have millions more than you, for I have been gathering the
+crumbs under my Master's table for thirty years."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a king," answered Clementina. "But a king needs a handmaiden
+somewhere in his house: that let <i>me</i> be in yours. No, I will be proud,
+and assert my rights: I am your daughter. If I am not, why am I here? Do
+you not remember telling me that the adoption of God meant a closer
+relation than any other fatherhood, even His own first fatherhood, could
+signify? You cannot cast me off if you would. Why should you be poor
+when I am rich? You <i>are</i> poor: you cannot deny it," she concluded with
+a serious playfulness.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not deny my privileges," said the schoolmaster, with a smile
+such as might have acknowledged the possession of some exquisite and
+envied rarity.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe," insisted Clementina, "you are just as poor as the apostle
+Paul when he sat down to make a tent, or as our Lord himself after he
+gave up carpentering."</p>
+
+<p>"You are wrong there, my lady. I am not so poor as they must often have
+been."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't know how long I may be away, and you may fall ill,
+or&mdash;or&mdash;see some&mdash;some book you want very much, or&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I never do," said the schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>"What! never see a book you want to have?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not now. I have my Greek Testament, my Plato and my Shakespeare,
+and one or two little books besides whose wisdom I have not yet quite
+exhausted."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bear it!" cried Clementina, almost on the point of weeping.
+"You will not let me near you. You put out an arm as long as the
+summer's, and push me away from you. <i>Let</i> me be your servant." As she
+spoke she rose, and walking softly up to him where he sat, kneeled at
+his knees and held out suppliantly a little bag of white silk tied with
+crimson. "Take it&mdash;father," she said, hesitating, and bringing the word
+out with an effort: "take your daughter's offering&mdash;a poor thing to show
+her love, but something to ease her heart."</p>
+
+<p>He took it, and weighed it up and down in his hand with an amused smile,
+but his eyes full of tears. It was heavy. He opened it. A chair was
+within his reach: he emptied it on the seat of it, and laughed with
+merry delight as its contents came tumbling out. "I never saw so much
+gold in my life if it were all taken together," he said. "What beautiful
+stuff it is! But I don't want it, my dear. It would but trouble me." And
+as he spoke he began to put it in the bag again. "You will want it for
+your journey," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I have plenty in my reticule," she answered. "That is a mere nothing to
+what I could have to-morrow morning for writing a cheque. I am afraid I
+am very rich. It is such a shame! But I can't well help it. You must
+teach me how to become poor. Tell me true: how much money have you?" She
+said this with such an earnest look of simple love that the schoolmaster
+made haste to rise that he might conceal his growing emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Rise, my dear lady," he said as he rose himself, "and I will show you."
+He gave her his hand, and she obeyed, but troubled and disappointed, and
+so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> stood looking after him while he went to a drawer. Thence, searching
+in a corner of it, he brought a half-sovereign, a few shillings and some
+coppers, and held them out to her on his hand with the smile of one who
+has proved his point. "There!" he said, "do you think Paul would have
+stopped preaching to make a tent so long as he had as much as that in
+his pocket? I shall have more on Saturday, and I always carry a month's
+rent in my good old watch, for which I never had much use, and now have
+less than ever."</p>
+
+<p>Clementina had been struggling with herself: now she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what a misspending of precious sorrow!" exclaimed the
+schoolmaster. "Do you think because a man has not a gold-mine he must
+die of hunger? I once heard of a sparrow that never had a worm left for
+the morrow, and died a happy death notwithstanding." As he spoke he took
+her handkerchief from her hand and dried her tears with it. But he had
+enough ado to keep his own back. "Because I won't take a bagful of gold
+from you when I don't want it," he went on, "do you think I should let
+myself starve without coming to you? I promise you I will let you
+know&mdash;come to you if I can&mdash;the moment I get too hungry to do my work
+well and have no money left. Should I think it a disgrace to take money
+from <i>you</i>? That would show a poverty of spirit such as I hope never to
+fall into. My <i>sole</i> reason for refusing now is that I do not need it."</p>
+
+<p>But for all his loving words and assurances Clementina could not stay
+her tears. She was not ready to weep, but now her eyes were as a
+fountain.</p>
+
+<p>"See, then, for your tears are hard to bear, my daughter," he said, "I
+will take one of these golden ministers, and if it has flown from me ere
+you come, seeing that, like the raven, it will not return if once I let
+it go, I will ask you for another. It <i>may</i> be God's will that you
+should feed me for a time."</p>
+
+<p>"Like one of Elijah's ravens," said Clementina, with an attempted laugh
+that was really a sob.</p>
+
+<p>"Like a dove whose wings are covered with silver and her feathers with
+yellow gold," said the schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>A moment of silence followed, broken only by Clementina's failures in
+quieting herself.</p>
+
+<p>"To me," he resumed, "the sweetest fountain of money is the hand of
+love, but a man has no right to take it from that fountain except he is
+in want of it. I am not. True, I go somewhat bare, my lady; but what is
+that when my Lord would have it so?"</p>
+
+<p>He opened again the bag, and slowly, reverentially indeed, drew from it
+one of the new sovereigns with which it was filled. He put it in a
+waistcoat pocket and laid the bag on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"But your clothes are shabby, sir," said Clementina, looking at him with
+a sad little shake of the head.</p>
+
+<p>"Are they?" he returned, and looked down at his lower garments,
+reddening and anxious. "I did not think they were more than a little
+rubbed, but they shine somewhat," he said. "They are indeed polished by
+use," he went on with a troubled little laugh: "but they have no holes
+yet&mdash;at least none that are visible," he corrected. "If you tell me, my
+lady, if you honestly tell me, that my garments"&mdash;and he looked at the
+sleeve of his coat, drawing back his head from it to see it better&mdash;"are
+unsightly, I will take of your money and buy me a new suit." Over his
+coat-sleeve he regarded her, questioning.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything about you is beautiful," she burst out. "You want nothing
+but a body that lets the light through." She took the hand still raised
+in his survey of his sleeve, pressed it to her lips, and walked, with
+even more than her wonted state, slowly from the room.</p>
+
+<p>He took the bag of gold from the table and followed her down the stair.
+Her chariot was waiting her at the door. He handed her in, and laid the
+bag on the little seat in front.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell him to drive home?" she said with a firm voice, and a
+smile which if any one care to understand let him read Spenser's
+fortieth sonnet. And so they parted. The coachman took the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> queer,
+shabby, un-London-like man for a fortune-teller his lady was in the
+habit of consulting, and paid homage to his power with the handle of his
+whip as he drove away. The schoolmaster returned to his room&mdash;not to his
+Plato, not even to Saul of Tarsus, but to the Lord himself.</p>
+
+<h4>[TO BE CONTINUED]</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>SOME LAST WORDS FROM SAINTE-BEUVE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It is seven years since the world of letters lost the prince of critics,
+the last of the critics. His unfinished and unpublished manuscripts were
+eagerly demanded and devoured; while obituaries, notices, reminiscences
+and those analyses which the French term <i>appr&eacute;ciations</i> rained in from
+various quarters. The latest of these that deserves attention was an
+outline of Saint-Beuve's life and literary career by the Vicomte
+d'Haussonville, in which, with an affectation of impartiality and
+fairness, every page was streaked with malice; imperfect justice was
+done to Sainte-Beuve's intellect; his influence and reputation were
+understated; and a picture was given of him as a man which could not but
+be disagreeable and disappointing to the vast number who admired him as
+a writer. In regard to the first two points, ill-nature and inaccuracy
+can do no harm: Sainte-Beuve's fame and ability are perfectly well known
+to the reading public of to-day, and the opinion of posterity will rest
+upon his own merits rather than on the statements of any biographer, as
+he is one of the authors whose writings are sure to be more read than
+what other people write about them. The unpleasant personal impression
+is not so easily dismissed: however exaggerated we may be disposed to
+think it, the reflection occurs, "How this man was feared!" The
+appearance of the notice several years after Sainte-Beuve's death
+strengthens this conviction: M. d'Haussonville waited until his subject
+should be quite cold before he ventured to touch him.</p>
+
+<p>The causes of this dread and dislike are not to be found in
+Sainte-Beuve's voluminous works, nor have I met with any evidence of it
+in the writings of his literary contemporaries. He obviously held that
+it is a critic's duty to be just before he is generous, and there may be
+a lack of geniality in his praise, though it is not given grudgingly;
+but I cannot recall an instance of literary spite in the large
+proportion of his writings with which I am familiar. His judgments are
+often severe, never harsh: he frequently dealt in satire, rarely, as far
+as my memory serves, in sarcasm, and he condemns irony as one of the
+least intelligent dispositions of the mind. The only case in which I
+remember having suspected Sainte-Beuve of ill-nature was in a notice of
+J. J. Amp&egrave;re printed in the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> shortly after the
+latter's death; but a person who had known Amp&egrave;re long and well, and on
+the friendliest terms, declared that it gave an entirely fair
+description of the man, who, full of talent and amiability as he was,
+had many weaknesses. Two pleas only can justify disinterring and
+gibbeting an author's private life&mdash;either his having done the same by
+others, or his having made the public the confidant of his individual
+experience. Few writers have intruded their own personality upon their
+readers less than Sainte-Beuve has done: the poems and novels of his
+youth, which won fervent admiration from the literary leaders of that
+day, De Vigny, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, are now forgotten: he is known
+to readers of the last half century by a series of critical and
+biographical essays extending from 1823 or 1824 to 1870, which combine
+every attribute<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> of perfect criticism except enthusiasm. The most
+prominent feature of his method is the conscientiousness with which he
+credits the person upon whom he passes judgment with every particle of
+worth which can be extracted from his writings, acts or sayings: he
+adopts as the basis of criticism the acknowledgment of whatever merit
+may exist in the subject of consideration; and his talent and patience
+for sifting the grain from the chaff are remarkable and admirable. An
+author who has left some forty volumes conceived in this spirit should
+have been safe against an effusion of spleen in his biographer. I am not
+assailing the fidelity of M. d'Haussonville's portrait&mdash;of which I have
+no means of judging&mdash;but the temper in which it is executed, which can
+be judged without difficulty. Besides the injustice already mentioned,
+it is disfigured by tittle-tattle, which tends to render the original
+ridiculous and repulsive, but does not add one whit to our knowledge of
+Sainte-Beuve as a man or an author.</p>
+
+<p>A defence of Sainte-Beuve is not within the purpose of the present
+article; but it was impossible for one who has known him favorably for
+twenty years through his works and the testimony of his most
+distinguished literary compeers to speak of him at all without
+protesting against the detraction to which his memory has been
+subjected. Two small posthumous volumes have lately been issued in
+France,<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> revealing qualities which might expose the dead man to a mean
+revenge, though to most readers they will have a delightful freshness
+unspoiled by any bitter flavor. They consist of a series of notes on all
+sorts of subjects, literary, dramatic, religious and political, one of
+them being actually made up of the jottings in his later notebooks,
+while the other contains the memoranda of a sort of high-class gossip
+with which Sainte-Beuve supplied a friend, the editor of <i>La Revue
+Suisse</i>, during the years 1843-45. These were not to be published as
+they stood, but to be used by the editor, M. Juste Olivier, as he should
+think best: they are fragmentary, mere bits of raw material&mdash;if any
+product of that accomplished brain can be so termed&mdash;to be worked up by
+another hand. They were qualified by marginal observations, such as
+"This is for you alone," "This is rather strong," and they were to be
+absolutely anonymous, the author allowing himself the luxury of free
+speech, of writing exactly as he thought and felt; in short, of trusting
+his indiscretion to M. Olivier's discretion. The latter used his
+judgment independently; Sainte-Beuve's views and comments often became
+merely one ingredient in an article for which others supplied the rest;
+and the editor kneaded the whole into shape to his own liking. But the
+MSS. remained intact, and were confided by M. Olivier to M. Jules
+Troubat, Sainte-Beuve's private secretary and editor, who has published
+them in their integrity, he tells us, with the exception of "a few
+indispensable suppressions." The other volume, as we have said, is
+composed of his notebooks. These last were intended to take the place of
+memoirs by Sainte-Beuve himself, who wrote a short preface, under the
+name of M. Troubat, destined for a larger volume to appear after his
+death. He published, however, the greater part of those which he had
+already collected in vol. ii. of the <i>Causeries de Lundi</i>: the present
+series contains the notes which accumulated subsequently. M. Troubat has
+given them to the world as they stood. Both books abound in the
+characteristics of the author's style&mdash;good sense, moderation,
+perception, discrimination, delicacy, sparkle, unerring taste, as well
+as judgment in matters of intelligence. A parcel of disconnected
+passages cannot possess the flow and finish of a complete essay, but
+each bit has the clearness, incisiveness and smooth polish of his native
+wit. They give us Sainte-Beuve's first impression, thought, mental
+impulse, about daily events regarding which he sometimes afterward
+modified his opinion. Not often, however, for he had, if not precisely
+the prophetic vision which belongs to genius or minds illuminated by
+enthusiasm or sympathy, that keen far-sightedness which recognizes at a
+distance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> rather than foresees the coming event or man. He tells a
+quantity of anecdotes, and he had exactly the sort of humor and absence
+of tenderness for human weakness which perceives the point that makes a
+story good in the greatest variety of speeches and situations. The key
+to the dislike and fear with which some people must have regarded him
+while living lies probably in just this appreciation. It is vain to
+assert that humor is necessarily kindly, or the adjectives "grim" and
+"savage" would not so often be tacked to it. Nobody could have hoped
+that friendship would blind Sainte-Beuve to an absurdity: on the other
+hand, even his enemies might count on his recognition if they had said a
+good thing, and his not spoiling it in the repetition, as too many
+friends do. This produced an impartiality in his verdicts which is the
+moral essence of criticism, but perhaps the most trying quality to the
+subject of it: he says himself that he had irritated and envenomed more
+people by his praise than by his blame. He had not a high opinion of
+human nature, which is curiously illustrated by his female portraits:
+when there has been only a doubt of a woman's virtue, he never gives her
+the benefit of the doubt; when there has not been even the suspicion of
+a slip, he presumes that she kept her secrets better than most people
+do. He was sensitive to the accusation of cynicism, and resented
+extremely an article in <i>L'Union</i> of June, 1855, in which he was set
+down as having not only a skeptical mind, but a skeptical heart; which
+was no doubt very nearly true. Yet he was on his guard against his
+natural cynicism in his literary judgments at least, as one need but
+glance over them to see. In the <i>Cahiers</i> he cites an expression of his
+fair friend Madame d'Arbonville: "How many good things there are besides
+the things which we like! We ought to make room within ourselves for a
+certain <i>opposite</i>;" and he adds that this should be the motto of a
+liberal and intelligent critic. These convictions helped to make his
+criticism as admirable, as invaluable, as it is; but the sharpness from
+which his literary work is free makes his private observations on men
+and things more entertaining. There are few people so well-natured as
+not to enjoy the peculiar pungency which gives many of the passages in
+the two volumes before us their relish: now and then it is as if we had
+got hold of the cruets which were to season a whole article. There is a
+batch of anecdotes about Lamartine, whose conspicuous gifts and position
+put his puerile vanity in relief; and that vanity Sainte-Beuve never
+spared. Lamartine set the fashion of his own idolatry by constituting
+himself the high priest; adulation was not enough&mdash;he demanded
+adoration; and he received it. He had a habit of contemplating himself
+from an objective but highly-idealizing point of view, best expressed by
+saying that he had a hero-worship for himself: his memoirs and other
+autobiographical writings are full of it, and in his intercourse it
+perpetually overflowed. "That is the brow they have tried to bend to the
+dust!" he exclaimed, standing before his own likeness in Ary Scheffer's
+studio. Lord Houghton, among his many good stories, had one of spending
+an evening at Lamartine's in Paris with a circle of celebrities. Alfred
+de Vigny, who had been out of town, presented himself. "Welcome back!"
+said Lamartine magnificently. "You come from the provinces: do they
+admire us down there?"&mdash;"They adore you," replied De Vigny with a bow.
+The conversation was a prolonged paean to the host, with choral strophe
+and antistrophe. One of the party began to rehearse the aspects in which
+Lamartine was the greatest man in France&mdash;"As a poet, as an orator, as
+an historian, as a statesman;" and as he paused, "And as a <i>soldier</i>,"
+added Lamartine with a sublime gesture, "if ever France shall need him."
+This may have been the country neighbor who, we learn from Sainte-Beuve,
+pronounced Lamartine to be F&eacute;nelon without his didacticism, Rousseau
+without his sophistry, Mirabeau without his incendiary notions. Still,
+there were asides in the dialogue. One evening, the week before the
+overthrow of the provisional government<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> of which Lamartine was
+president, he had a crowded reception, and, notwithstanding the failure
+and imminent downfall of his administration, he was radiant with
+satisfaction. "What can M. de Lamartine have to be so pleased about?"
+said one of his friends to another. "He is pleased with himself," was
+the reply.&mdash;"One of those speeches," observes Sainte-Beuve, "which only
+friends find to make." But Lamartine was by no means solitary in this
+infatuation. Sainte-Beuve remarks that "Nothing is so common in our
+days: some think themselves God, some the Son of God, some archangels.
+Pierre Leroux thinks himself the first, De Vigny the last: Lamartine is
+a good prince&mdash;he is satisfied to be a seraph."</p>
+
+<p>These books give us daily glimpses of Paris thirty years ago, of that
+incessant mental movement, inquiry, desire for novelty and vivacity of
+transient interest which dazzle the brain as the scintillation of the
+sun upon the unstable waves does the eye. In all great cities, quite as
+much as in villages, there is a topic which for the moment occupies
+everybody, and which cannot be escaped, whether you enter a
+drawing-room, pick up a newspaper or rush into the street: the chief
+difference is, that in the great cities it changes oftener&mdash;"every
+fortnight here," says Sainte-Beuve of Paris. The history of many a nine
+days' wonder may be gathered from the <i>Chroniques</i>: we can mark the
+first effect of occurrences startling at the time, some of which are now
+wholly forgotten, while others have become historical; we witness the
+appearance of new divinities who have since found their pedestals,
+niches or obscure corners. Among these was Ponsard, chiefly known in
+this country, to those who remember Mademoiselle Rachel's brief,
+gleaming transit, as the author of <i>Horace et Lydie</i>, a light, bright,
+graceful piece based upon Horace's "Donec gratus eram tibi."</p>
+
+<p>M. Ponsard, who was from the south of France, arrived in Paris in 1843
+with a tragedy called <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i>, which had been in his pocket for three
+years. It was read first at the house of the actor Bocage before a
+party of artists, actors and men of letters such as Paris alone can
+bring together. The litt&eacute;rateurs gave their opinion with caution and an
+oracular ambiguity which did not commit them too much: Gautier, on being
+asked how he liked it, replied, "It did not put me to sleep;" but the
+sculptor Pr&eacute;ault, not having a literary reputation at stake, declared
+that if there were a "Roman prize" for tragedy (as there is for music
+and the fine arts, entitling the fortunate competitor to four years'
+travel and study in classic lands at the expense of the government) the
+author would set out on the morrow for the Eternal City. The play was
+read again a week or two afterward in the drawing-room of the Comtesse
+d'Agoult, the beautiful, gifted, reckless friend of Lizst's youth, and
+mother of the wife of Von Bulow and Wagner. The success was complete.
+Sainte-Beuve was again present; and Lamartine was among the audience
+full of admiration: the poor young poet could not nerve himself to come.
+The play was read by Bocage, who took the principal part, that of
+Brutus, when it was brought out at the Od&eacute;on. The chaste Lucretia was
+played by Madame Dorval, whose strength lay in parts of a different
+kind, and who announced her new character to a friend with the comment,
+"I only play women of virtue now-a-days." Reports of the new tragedy,
+which had been heard only in secret session, soon got about Paris, and
+excited intense curiosity and impatience; one of the daily papers
+published a scene from <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i>; the sale was immense; everybody
+praised it to the skies, even members of the Academy. The next day the
+hoax came out: a clever but third-rate writer, M. M&eacute;ry, had made April
+fools of the wits of Paris. The piece itself was soon performed, and
+made what is called in this country an immense sensation: the theatre,
+long out of favor, was crowded every night; the papers were full of it
+every morning; it was the topic about which everybody talked. Authors
+who had lately written less popular plays were somewhat envious and
+spiteful; Victor Hugo pronounced <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i> to be Livy versified; Dumas
+repeated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> (or invented) the speech of an enthusiastic notary, who
+exclaimed, "What a piece! Not one of my clerks could have written it."
+Madame de Girardin had just brought out her tragedy of <i>Judith</i> at the
+Th&eacute;&acirc;tre Fran&ccedil;ais, with the powerful support of Rachel in the principal
+character: the drama, when read by Rachel and Madame de Girardin (whose
+beauty, wit and social position gave her during her whole life a
+fictitious rank in a certain set, of which none were better aware than
+the members of it) in Madame R&eacute;camier's drawing-room, had produced a
+better effect than it did upon the stage, where it was considered a
+respectable failure. Madame de Girardin could not control or conceal her
+chagrin, and meeting M. Ponsard one evening at the Duchesse de
+Grammont's, declined to have him presented to her. He took his honors so
+quietly&mdash;so tamely in the opinion of some people&mdash;that Madame Dorval
+exhorted him: "Wake up! wake up! you look like a hen that has hatched an
+eagle's egg." Since the Augustan age of French literature, since
+Corneille and Racine, a really fine tragedy on a classic subject had
+been unknown, and the romantic reaction was then at its height. The
+moral view of <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i> was a new and important element of success. "The
+religious feeling of the Roman matron, the inviolability of the domestic
+hearth, are these not new? do not they count for much?" observed the
+virtuous philosopher Ballanche, the devoted, unselfish friend of Madame
+R&eacute;camier. Sainte-Beuve was greatly impressed by the nobility of the
+characters and treatment, and after pointing out its beauties and
+shortcomings, set the seal to his encomium by affirming that the secret
+of the power of <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i> was that it had soul.</p>
+
+<p>The extraordinary favor with which this play was received marked an
+epoch in a small way, a return to antique ideas and themes, to more
+elevated subjects and modes of dealing with them. Six weeks after its
+appearance Sainte-Beuve writes: "We have always been rather apish in
+France: the Grecian, Roman and biblical tragedies which every day now
+brings forth are innumerable. Who will deliver me from these Greeks and
+Romans? Here we are overrun by them again after forty years'
+insurrection, and by the Hebrews to boot." The high-water mark of the
+author's popularity was the publication of a trifle called the
+<i>Anti-Lucr&egrave;ce</i>, which was sold in the purlieus of the Od&eacute;on: next day
+there was a rumor that a second <i>Anti-Lucr&egrave;ce</i> was in preparation. But
+the tide had turned: six months later, when the theatre reopened after
+the summer vacation with the same tragedy, Sainte-Beuve records:
+"<i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i> has reappeared only to die, not by the poignard, but of
+languor, coldness, premature old age. It is frightful how little and how
+fast we live in these times&mdash;works as well as men. We survive ourselves
+and our children: the generations are turned upside down. Here is a
+piece which scarcely six months ago all Paris ran to hear without being
+asked:... now they are tired of it already, and can find nothing in it:
+it is like last year's snow." The death-blow of the tragedy was given,
+Sainte-Beuve says, not by the dagger, but by a luckless blunder of the
+actor who played Lucretia's father, and who, instead of saying,
+<i>L'assassin p&acirc;lissant</i> ("The assassin turning pale,") said, <i>L'assassin
+polisson</i> ("The scamp of an assassin"); which set everybody laughing;
+and that was the end of it.</p>
+
+<p>M. Ponsard might console himself, if he liked, by the reflection that
+his play, if not immortal, had killed his fair rival's <i>Judith</i> and
+swallowed up Victor Hugo's <i>Burgraves</i>, which had been acted at the
+Th&eacute;&acirc;tre Fran&ccedil;ais a month before <i>Lucr&egrave;ce</i> was first produced. Regarding
+the former, Sainte-Beuve shows unwonted tenderness or policy. "Never let
+me be too epigrammatic about Madame de Girardin," he wrote to M.
+Olivier: "I would not seem to play the traitor to her smiles;" though in
+reference to a sharp encounter between her and Jules Janin he hints that
+she has claws of her own. He does not deny himself the pleasure of
+mentioning Victor Hugo's little weaknesses. At the first three
+representations of <i>Les Burgraves</i> the theatre was packed with the
+author's friends: on the fourth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> a less partial public hissed to that
+degree that the curtain was dropped, and thenceforward each night was
+stormier until the play was withdrawn. Hugo could not bring himself to
+allow that he had been hissed, and, being behind the scenes, said to the
+actors, with the fatal sibilation whistling through the house, "They are
+interrupting my play" (<i>On trouble ma pi&egrave;ce</i>); which became a byword
+with these wicked wits. Sainte-Beuve, with his infallible instinct of
+wherein dwelt the vital greatness or defect of a production,
+characterizes the piece as an exaggeration. He admits that it has
+talent, especially in the preface, but adds, "Hugo sees all things
+larger than life: they look black to him&mdash;in <i>Ruy Blas</i> they looked red.
+But there is grandeur in the <i>Burgraves</i>: he alone, or Chateaubriand,
+could have written the introduction.... The banks of the Rhine are not
+so lofty and thunder-riven as he makes out, nor is Thessaly so black,
+nor Notre Dame so enormous, but more elegant, as may be seen from the
+pavement. But this is the defect of his eye."</p>
+
+<p>Amidst these theatrical diversions the chronicler alludes to the
+fashionable preaching which occupied the gay world at hours when
+playhouses and drawing-rooms were not open. There was a religious
+revival going on in Paris almost equal to that which Moody and Sankey
+have produced here. "During Passion Week" (1843) "the crowd in all the
+churches, but at Notre Dame particularly, was prodigious. M. de Ravignan
+preached three times a day&mdash;at one o'clock for the women of the gay
+world, in the evening for the men, at other hours for the workingmen. He
+adapted his sermons to the different classes: to the women of the world
+he spoke as a man who knows the world and has belonged to it. They
+rushed, they crowded, they wept. I do not know how many communicants
+there were at Easter, but I believe the figure has not been so high for
+fifty years." At Advent of the same year the same scenes were repeated,
+with the Abb&eacute; Lacordaire in the pulpit. This excitement, and the debates
+in the Chamber on the subject of the theological lectures at the
+Sorbonne and College of France, call forth some excellent pages
+regarding the condition of Catholicism in France and the Gallican
+Church, and a brief, rapid review of the causes of the decline of the
+latter, which Sainte-Beuve asserts (more than thirty years ago) to be
+defunct. "Gallicanism, the noblest child of Catholicism, is dead before
+his father, <i>who in his dotage remains obstinately faithful to his
+principles</i>.... Gallicanism in its dissolution left a vast patrimony:
+the Jesuits may grab a huge bit of it, but the bulk will be diminished
+and disseminated.... At the rate things are going, Catholicism is
+tending to become <i>a sect</i>." The insight of this is as remarkable as the
+expression. Some years afterward, marking the progress of liberal ideas
+in religion, he says: "Men's conceptions of God are constantly changing.
+What was the atheism of yesterday will be the deism of to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>There are few Frenchman of any calling who are indifferent to politics,
+and the men of letters almost without exception are interested
+spectators when not actors in public affairs. From 1843 to 1845, the
+period of the <i>Chroniques</i>, was a dead calm in the political horizon of
+France, undisturbed by the little distant cloud of warfare in Algiers:
+the Legitimists worked up farcical fermentations which had no more body
+or head than those of the present day, although the chances of the party
+were rather better. The duke of Bordeaux (as the Comte de Chambord was
+then called) made an excursion to England one Christmas, which was
+seized as an occasion, or more probably was a preconcerted signal, for a
+dreary little demonstration of loyalty on the part of his adherents, who
+crossed over to pay their respects to him in London: by great
+arithmetical efforts their number was added up and made to amount to
+four hundred, though whether so many really went was doubted. There were
+a few old noblemen of great family: Berryer the eminent lawyer and
+Chateaubriand were the only names of individual distinction in the list,
+and the chief results were that Queen Victoria was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> annoyed (some of the
+Orleans family being on a visit to her at the time) and intimated her
+annoyance, and that the superb Chateaubriand was spoken of in the
+English newspapers as "the good old man;" which Sainte-Beuve enjoyed
+extremely.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Cahiers</i> extend from 1847 to 1869, including the vicissitudes which
+brought about the Second Empire, whose annihilation Sainte-Beuve died
+half a year too soon to witness. In January, 1848, he felt the storm
+brewing in the air, though he little guessed from what quarter it would
+come nor on whose head it would burst. On the revolution of the 24th of
+February he writes: "What events! what a dream! I was prepared for much,
+but not so soon, nor for this.... I am tempted to believe in the nullity
+of every judgment, my own in particular&mdash;I who make it a business to
+judge others, and am so short-sighted.... The future will disclose what
+no one can foresee. There is no use in talking of ordinary wisdom
+and prudence: they have been utterly at fault. Guizot, the
+historian-philosopher, has turned out more stupid than a Polignac:
+Utopia and the poet's dream, on the contrary, have become facts and
+reality. I forgive Lamartine everything: he has been great during these
+days, and done honor to the poetic nature." But afterward, in looking
+back to the poet's reign, he grew satirical: "It was in the time of the
+good provisional government, which did so many things and left so many
+undone. The fortunes of France crumbled to pieces in a fortnight, but it
+was under the invocation of equality and fraternity. As to liberty, it
+only existed for madmen, and the wise took good care to make no use of
+it. 'The great folk are terribly scared,' said my portress, but the
+small fry triumphed: it was their turn. So much had never been said
+about work before, and so little was never done. People walked about all
+day, planted liberty-trees at every street-corner, illuminated
+willy-nilly, and perorated in the clubs and squares until midnight. The
+Exchange rang with disasters in the morning: in the evening it sparkled
+with lanterns and fireworks. It was the gayest anarchy for the lower
+classes of Paris, who had no police and looked after themselves. The
+street-boys ran about with flags; workmen without work, but paid
+nevertheless, walked in perpetual procession; the demireps had kicked
+over the traces, and on the sidewalks the most virtuous
+fellow-citizenesses were hugged without ceremony: it must be added that
+they did not resent it too much. The grisettes, having nothing to eat,
+gave themselves away for nothing or next to nothing, as during the
+Fronde. The chorus of the Girondists was sung on every open lot, and
+there was a feast of addresses. Lamartine wrought marvels such as
+Ulysses might have done, and he was the siren of the hour. Yet they
+laughed and joked, and the true French wit revived. There was general
+good-humor and amiability in those first days of a most licentious
+spring sunshine. There was an admixture of bad taste, as there always is
+in the people of Paris when they grow sentimental. They made grotesque
+little gardens round the liberty-trees, which they watered
+assiduously.... The small fry adored their provisional government, as
+they formerly did their good king Louis XII., and more than one simple
+person said with emotion, 'It must be admitted that we are well
+governed, <i>they talk so well!</i>'" Before three months had elapsed the
+provisional government was at an end: "their feet slipped in
+blood&mdash;literally, in torrents of blood." "The politicians of late years
+have been playing a game of chess, intent wholly upon the board, but
+never giving a thought to the table under the board. But the table was
+alive, the back of a people which began to move, and in the twinkling of
+an eye chessboard and men went to the devil."</p>
+
+<p>Among the entries of the next ten or twelve years are sketches of the
+leading statesmen and scraps of their conversation: those of Thiers are
+very animated. Sainte-Beuve says that he has a happiness of verbal
+expression which eludes his pen; "yet raise him upon a pinnacle of works
+of art" (of which M. Thiers has always been a patron publicly and
+privately), "of historical monuments and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> flatterers, and he will never
+be aught but the cleverest of marmosets." If he had lived another
+twelvemonth, Sainte-Beuve might have had some other word for the Great
+Citizen. On Guizot he is still more severe, making him out a mere
+humbug, and of the poorest sort. When the poet Auguste Barbier became a
+candidate for the French Academy, M. Guizot had never heard of him, and
+had to be told all about him and his verses&mdash;there was surely no
+disgrace in this ignorance on the part of a man engrossed in studies and
+pursuits of a more serious nature&mdash;but before a week was over he was
+heard expressing amazement that another person knew nothing of Barbier,
+and talking of his poems as if he had always been familiar with them.
+The Duchesse de Broglie said: "What M. Guizot has known since morning he
+pretends to have known from all eternity."</p>
+
+<p>This paper might be prolonged almost to the length of the volumes
+themselves by quoting all the keen, sagacious or brilliant sayings
+which they contain. Two more, merely to exemplify Sainte-Beuve's command
+of words in very different lines of thought: "The old fragments of cases
+in &#966;&#953; and &#952;&#949;&#957;, the ancient remains of verbs in
+&#956;&#953; the second aorists, which alone survive the other submerged
+tenses, always produce the same effect upon me, in view of the regular
+declensions and conjugations, as the multitude of the isles and Cyclades
+in relation to the Peloponnesus and the rest of the mainland on the map
+of Greece: there was a time when they were all one. The rocks and peaks
+still stand to attest it."&mdash;"<i>Never</i> is a word which has always brought
+bad luck to him who used it from the tribune."</p>
+
+<p>M. Troubat speaks of the correspondence of Sainte-Beuve as destined for
+publication: the <i>Chroniques</i> and <i>Cahiers</i> are like anchovies to whet
+the appetite for a longer and more continuous reading.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Sarah B. Wister</span>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> <i>Chroniques Parisiennes</i> and <i>Les Cahiers de
+Sainte-Beuve</i>.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>A FEW LETTERS.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Brookside</span>, April 12, 1872.
+</p>
+
+<p>Dear Cousin Bessie: It does not seem possible that but two months from
+to-day I saw you standing on your porch in good old Applethorpe bidding
+me an April "farewell." I can see you now, as I saw you then,
+smiling&mdash;or rather laughing&mdash;and saying, "Write! write often; and if you
+can't find any <i>real</i> news, make something up." I little thought then I
+should so soon find material for correspondence. He was very sick at
+first, but really seems better now. But I forgot you don't know anything
+about him. Well! neither do <i>I</i> much, but "what I have I give unto
+thee." So, I'll begin at the beginning of my romance.</p>
+
+<p>Day before yesterday, as I was engaged in the very romantic work of
+ploughing, I heard a clattering of hoofs and the snort and pant of a
+horse at full tear. In an instant the runaway was brought up, bang!
+against my fence. It was the work of but a moment to leap over and seize
+the animal. I then perceived his rider clinging, senseless, to the
+saddle by one stirrup. It is a great mercy to him that he was not
+killed, but he had been dragged but a short distance, and was therefore
+not severely injured. I secured the horse to the fence as quickly as
+possible, and then disengaged the gentleman. Upon removing him to the
+house, sending for a physician and applying various remedies, his
+consciousness was restored, and we soon discovered his injuries as well
+as a little of his history. His wounds prove to be bruises about the
+head and face (more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> disfiguring than serious), and a broken leg which
+it will take several weeks to cure.</p>
+
+<p>So here he is on my hands till he is well. I'm not sorry, either, for
+"it is not good for man to be alone," and I find him my nearest
+neighbor&mdash;like me an orphan, like me with a small fortune, consisting
+principally of his farm, and about my age. I've no doubt we shall get
+along capitally. I shall write every few days of his progress, knowing
+that you will be interested in whatever interests me. Don't forget to
+send me all the gossip of Applethorpe, for I am going to make my
+neighbor acquainted with all the inhabitants of Applethorpe by
+proxy&mdash;<i>i. e.</i>, through your letters; so write your most entertaining
+ones, as I expect to read them all aloud to amuse and interest a
+captious invalid. "No more at present" from your affectionate cousin,</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Philip Aubrey</span>.
+</p>
+
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">To Miss Bessie Linton</span>, Applethorpe.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Applethorpe</span>, April 20, 1872.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Boy</span>: Your letter duly rec'd. I am glad you have found
+companionship, though I am sorry for him that it should be an accident
+that literally "threw" him in your way. You did not tell me his name, or
+anything but the bare fact of his accident. Be sure that you will find
+in me an interested listener&mdash;or rather <i>reader</i>&mdash;of anything you may
+choose to tell me. But don't leave accounts of <i>yourself</i> out of your
+letters in order to make room for <i>him</i>. Remember, you are my only
+relation, the only person in the world in whom I have a right to be
+interested. It does not seem possible to me, when I think of it, that
+there is only five years' difference in our ages: why, I'm sure I feel
+ten years older, instead of five. I was very young at fifteen to take
+charge of a great boy of ten; and if it were not that you were the good
+boy you always were, I never could have fulfilled the charge your dying
+mother left me. Do not think, dear, I was not <i>glad</i> to do it for her.
+Could I ever, <i>ever</i>, if I worked five times as hard as I have since she
+left you, repay all that she did for me, the poor miserable, shy orphan
+left to her care?</p>
+
+<p>But out upon these memories! Let us deal with the present and future.</p>
+
+<p><i>Item.</i> Mary Montrose's engagement to Joel Roberts is "out" to-day. I'm
+glad, for I'm tired of keeping the secret. Poor dear Mary! I do <i>hope</i>
+she will be happy. She inquires very cordially after you every time she
+sees me. She doesn't know she blasted one of my most precious hopes when
+she told me she was engaged to Joel.</p>
+
+<p>Good-bye, dear! Be sure and write long letters to your affectionate
+cousin,</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Bessie L&mdash;&mdash;</span>.
+</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Brookside</span>, April 30, 1872.
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Bess</span>: Please excuse my not answering your last two letters, on the
+plea of business. Indeed, working and waiting on my friend, George
+Hammond, have occupied all my time.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Bessie, I want you to do something for me. Yesterday, when I got
+your letter, I read it aloud as usual, George looking very sad the
+while. When I was done he said in a trembling tone, "I wish to heaven
+there was some one in the world nearly enough related to me to care to
+write to me! But I am alone, entirely alone;" and his eyes filled.
+(Forgive his weakness, Bess: he has been very sick.) I tried to cheer
+him, but all to no purpose till an idea struck him. His face
+brightening, he said, "Do you believe, Philip&mdash;I know it is a great deal
+to ask&mdash;but do you believe you could persuade your cousin to write to
+<i>me</i>? I should prize it <i>so</i> much. Do you think she <i>would</i>? Just fancy
+what it is never to receive a letter from any one except a
+business-man!"</p>
+
+<p>Now, Bessie, <i>won't</i> you write him once in a while? There is not a
+particle of harm in it, and I assure you it will be a real boon to the
+poor fellow. Just imagine him lying here on his back day after day, and
+not a thing to amuse him but my company!</p>
+
+<p>Of course you'll say that you can have nothing to write about to a
+stranger. But you'll soon find something, <i>I</i> know: I'll trust to your
+"woman's wit." Ask him about his past life: begin <i>that</i> way. But there!
+I'll not give you any advice on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> the subject: you understand writing
+letters better than I do. So good-bye, "fair coz." Pray accede to my
+request.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+Yours, etc.,<br />
+<span class="smcap">Philip A</span>&mdash;&mdash;.
+</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Brookside</span>, July 1, 1872.
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Bessie</span>: I'm getting jealous! Twice within a week have you
+written to George Hammond, and but once to me. Your letters to him are
+long, I know, for I see him read them. The correspondence is become
+something desperate&mdash;no wonder. He has just told me that through your
+letters he has become very deeply attached to you, and that when I
+return home at the end of another week he will come and plead his cause
+personally. He asks my benediction. I am sure he has my most hearty good
+wishes, and I do hope, Bessie dear, you may be inclined to say "Yes."
+Then, after you are married, you can come out here and settle down near
+your only remaining relative for the rest of your natural existence. You
+smile and shake your head, and say, "Oh yes, that will last till Philip
+marries!" But I say that if I see you and George Hammond united, it is
+all I ask.</p>
+
+<p>But I shall say no more. He can plead better by word of mouth than I by
+paper, I hope. Ever your devoted</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Philip</span>.
+<br />
+<span class="smcap">To Miss Bessie Linton</span>.
+</p>
+
+<p>A week later, Bessie Linton, fair and young spite of her thirty years,
+waited at the Applethorpe station in her pony-carriage for her cousin
+and his friend. She was possessed by so many emotions that she hardly
+knew whether she most wished or most dreaded seeing the visitors. That
+she was herself deeply interested in George Hammond she did not pretend
+to deny even to herself; yet just at the last she dreaded seeing him. It
+seemed to bring everything so near.</p>
+
+<p>The whistle sounded round the bend, and in another moment the dreaded,
+hoped-for train arrived. There alighted from it a number of passengers,
+but none that Bessie recognized at all. Presently there came toward her
+a gentleman with full beard and moustache, holding out his hand and
+exclaiming, "Cousin Bessie, don't you know me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Philip Aubrey! No, I <i>didn't</i>. Why, where&mdash;" and she hesitated a
+half second&mdash;"where is my Philip gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's here alive and hearty, and the same old scapegrace, I'm afraid."</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing the look of inquiry and suspense on her face, he added with
+considerable embarrassment, "George didn't come just yet. I'll tell you
+all about it when we get home."</p>
+
+<p>She was forced to be satisfied, but a nameless feeling of "something"
+made the drive a rather silent one, although each tried spasmodically to
+start a conversation. Tea over, Philip drew Bessie out into the garden,
+and sitting down in a rustic scat, said, "Bessie, come and sit down: I
+want to talk to you." Simply, straightforwardly as of old, she came.</p>
+
+<p>"Bessie dear," said Philip, "I have something to say, and don't know how
+to say it. But I guess the only way is to tell the truth at once. There
+is no such person as George Hammond."</p>
+
+<p>Bessie's heart-blood stopped for what seemed half an hour, and then she
+articulated slowly, "Then who wrote those letters, Philip?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> did," he answered sadly.</p>
+
+<p>She started away from him as if he had been a serpent. She walked up and
+down like a caged animal. At last her scorn burst forth: "<i>You</i>, Philip
+Aubrey! <i>you</i>! You have dared to laugh me to scorn, have you? You have
+dared to presume that because I am what the world calls an 'old maid,' I
+am a fit mark for the arrows of the would-be wits? Philip Aubrey, all I
+have to wish is, that your actions may recoil upon yourself." She would
+have said more, but her feelings overcame her entirely, and sitting down
+she covered her face with her hand, the tears trickling through her
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Bessie! Bessie! they have. Bitterly have I repented of my ruse. But
+I know if you will hear me you will not judge me harshly."</p>
+
+<p>She drew herself up, and throwing all possible scorn into her face,
+said, "Go! and if there remains in your body one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> vestige of feeling
+belonging to a gentleman, never let me look upon your face again."</p>
+
+<p>Like a stricken cur he went from her presence. He knew her too well: he
+knew that once roused as she now was, years could not efface her
+impression. He knew she would listen to no apology, no word of any kind;
+so the only thing left for him to do, as she had expressed it, was to
+"leave her presence."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he was fairly gone Bessie rose, went into the house, locked
+herself in her own room and struggled with herself. She did not even
+pretend to herself that her trouble was not hard to bear. What did life
+hold for her now? She had not even the cousin on whom her affections had
+so long been centred as her one living relation.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if he had only died! if he had only died before he deceived me this
+way!" she moaned, "I think I should have borne it more easily. It cannot
+be called the thoughtless trick of a boy: he is too old, and has carried
+it on too long, and planned it all too systematically, for that."</p>
+
+<p>Three hours after she came from her vigil pale and silent, but a
+conqueror. A little card stuck in the drawing-room mirror told her that
+Philip had started for New York on his way to his Western home again.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare, Ophelie, Bessie Linton's awful queer about Philip Aubrey.
+Last night I says to her, says I, 'Bessie, I hear Philip Aubrey's
+home&mdash;is he?' First she turned mighty red, and then as white as a sheet,
+and she seemed kind a-chokin' like; but in a moment she says, 'So he
+was, Mrs. Dartle, but he found some pressing business that took him back
+a great deal sooner than he expected.' 'La!' says I, 'what a pity! You
+ain't seen him for so long, and you was so attached to him!' And she
+says, just as cold as an ice-pitcher, 'I shall miss him very much. Have
+you seen my new heliotrope, Mrs. Dartle?' So I couldn't say anything
+more, but I declare to man I'd give a penny to know what's the
+matter&mdash;such friends as they used to be, too! You may depend upon it the
+fault's on his side. Mebbe he's done something dreadful."</p>
+
+<p>So things got whispered around, not very much to the credit of Mr.
+Aubrey, but after Mrs. Dartle's rebuff no one dared question Miss
+Linton, knowing her so well.</p>
+
+<p>Day succeeded day, and no one knew the bitterness that filled Miss
+Linton's heart so full that it seemed as if it must burst. Then came a
+letter from Philip. "Shall I open it? No, I will send it back. That he
+should dare to write again!" One mail followed another, and still the
+letter was unsent, was unopened. At last, after a fortnight had passed,
+her good sense got the better of her ill-feeling, and she said to
+herself, "I will at least see what he can say for himself in excuse. I
+need not answer it." So she opened it, and read as follows:</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Brookside</span>, October 8, 1872.
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My much-abused Cousin</span>: I dare not even <i>hope</i> that you will not return
+this unopened. But if you do open it I hope you may read what I have to
+say without <i>too</i> bitter feelings. Where shall I commence to tell you my
+story?</p>
+
+<p>You know what you said in regard to "making up" news, and one day as I
+was out riding my horse <i>did</i> land me at my own fence in the way I
+described. For weeks I lay on a bed of the most excruciating torture.
+Then I began to recover, and although I was confined to a sofa my
+faculties were on the alert, and I was pretty nearly distracted for
+something to do to amuse myself with. Finally, a brilliant idea struck
+me, and you were the victim of its execution. Believe me, believe me,
+Bessie dear, I only meant it for the harmless amusement of a week or
+two, but I became so interested in your letters to my imaginary friend
+that I could not bear to give them up. I had, Bessie, as I told you,
+learned to love you from your letters. They were so precious to me, it
+seemed like tearing from me a part of my very life to think of letting
+you know how I had deceived you, and so closing all the correspondence
+(which meant so much to me) between us. You will say I was cowardly. I
+<i>was</i>: I know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> it, and I admit it. But, Bessie, Bessie, I loved you so!
+Let my love plead for me. I thought it would be easier for me to tell
+you face to face. But God knows the hardest task I ever set myself was
+telling you how I had deceived you.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie, don't cast me off! Can't you find a little corner in your heart
+wherein I may rest? Let me be your cousin: of course I dare not hope
+ever to be anything dearer. But if you only will forgive me the trick
+into which I was led by sickness and want of amusement, and afterward
+continued from love of you, it is all I dare ask.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+Ever your devoted<br />
+<span class="smcap">Philip</span>.
+</p>
+
+<p>Emotions of various kinds seized the soul of Bessie Linton as she read
+Philip's letter once, twice, thrice. First, her heart was hardened to
+anything he might say&mdash;then as he told of his sufferings a little pity
+crept in; and finally, as she concluded the last word for the third
+time, her heart was so overflowing with pity&mdash;which is akin to
+love&mdash;that she&mdash;forgave him.</p>
+
+<p>At least, so I suppose, as they passed my window just now laughing, and
+as happy a married couple as ever you saw, if she <i>is</i> "five years older
+than he is, and had the bringin' of him up," to use Mrs. Dartle's
+expression.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">E. C. Hewitt</span>.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>FROM THE FLATS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What heartache&mdash;ne'er a hill!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inexorable, vapid, vague and chill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drear sand-levels drain my spirit low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With one poor word they tell me all they know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereat their stupid tongues, to tease my pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do drawl it o'er again and o'er again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hurt my heart with griefs I cannot name:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Always the same, the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nature hath no surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No ambuscade of beauty 'gainst mine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From brake or lurking dell or deep defile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No humors, frolic forms&mdash;this mile, that mile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No rich reserves or happy-valley hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond the bends of roads, the distant slopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her fancy fails, her wild is all run tame:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ever the same, the same.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh might I through these tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But glimpse some hill my Georgia high uprears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where white the quartz and pink the pebbles shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hickory heavenward strives, the muscadine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swings o'er the slope, the oak's far-falling shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darkens the dogwood in the bottom-glade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down the hollow from a ferny nook<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bright leaps a living brook!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i29"><span class="smcap">Sidney Lanier</span>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+<h2>A DAY'S MARCH THROUGH FINLAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Why don't you go to Imatra?" asks my friend P&mdash;&mdash; as we lean over the
+side of the Peterhof steamer and watch the golden domes of St.
+Petersburg rising slowly from the dull gray level of the Gulf of
+Finland. "Now that you've seen a bit of Central Russia, that's the next
+thing for you to do. Go to Imatra, and I'll go too."</p>
+
+<p>"And where on earth <i>is</i> Imatra?" ask I innocently.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh come! you don't mean to say you've never heard of Imatra? Why,
+everybody knows it. Let's go there next week."</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, it so happens that I have <i>not</i> heard of Imatra&mdash;an
+ignorance probably shared by most people out of Russia, and perhaps not
+a few in it. But I am destined to a speedier acquaintance than I had
+anticipated with the famous waterfall (or "foss," as the natives call
+it), which, lying forty miles due north of the Finnish port of Viborg,
+close to the renowned "Saima Lake," attracts the amateur fishermen of
+St. Petersburg by scores every summer.</p>
+
+<p>The proposed trip comes at an auspicious moment, for St. Petersburg in
+July is as thoroughly a "city of the dead" as London in September or
+Chamouni in January; and the average tourist, having eaten cabbage-soup
+at Wolff's or Dominique's, promenaded the Nevski Prospect and bought
+photographs in the Gostinni-Dvor (the Russian Regent street and
+Burlington Arcade), witnessed a service in the Isaac Church, and perhaps
+gone on to Moscow to stare at the Kremlin and the Monster Bell, must
+either await the approach of winter or fall back upon the truly British
+consolation of being able to "say that he has been there." Then is the
+time for suburban or rural jaunts; for picnics at Peterhof and drives to
+Oranienbaum; for wandering through the gardens of Catherine II. at
+Tsarskoe-Selo ("Czar's Village") and eating curds and cream at
+Pavlovski; for surveying the monastery of Strelna or the batteries of
+Cronstadt; or, finally, for taking the advice of my roving friend and
+going to Imatra.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, behold all our preparations made&mdash;knapsacks packed,
+tear-and-wear garments put in requisition, many-colored Russian notes
+exchanged (at a fearful discount) for dingy Finnish silver<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a>&mdash;and at
+half-past ten on a not particularly bright July morning we stand on the
+deck of the anything but "good ship" Konstantin, bound for Viborg.</p>
+
+<p>Despite her tortoise qualities as a steamer, however (which prolong our
+voyage to nearly nine hours), the vessel is really luxurious in her
+accommodations; and were her progress even slower, the motley groups
+around us (groups such as only Dickens could describe or Leech portray)
+would sufficiently beguile the time&mdash;jaunty boy-officers in brand-new
+uniforms, gallantly puffing their <i>papirossi</i> (paper cigarettes) in
+defiance of coming nausea, and discussing the merits of the new opera
+loud enough to assure every one within earshot that they know nothing
+whatever about it; squat Finnish peasants, whose round, puffy faces and
+thick yellow hair are irresistibly suggestive of overboiled
+apple-dumplings; gray-coated Russian soldiers, with the dogged endurance
+of their race written in every line of their patient, solid, unyielding
+faces; a lanky Swede, whose huge cork hat and broad collar give him the
+look of an exaggerated medicine-bottle; the inevitable tourist in the
+inevitable plaid suit, struggling with endless convolutions of
+fishing-tackle and hooking himself in a fresh place at every turn; three
+or four pale-faced clerks on leave, looking very much as if their
+"overwork" had been in some way connected with cigars and bad brandy; a
+German tradesman from Vasili-Ostroff (with the short turnip-colored
+moustache<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> characteristic of Wilhelm in his normal state), in dutiful
+attendance on his wife, who is just completing her preparations for
+being comfortably ill as soon as the vessel starts; and a fine specimen
+of the real British merchant, talking vehemently (in a miraculous
+dialect of his own invention) to a Russian official, whose air of
+studied politeness shows plainly that he does not understand a word of
+his neighbor's discourse.</p>
+
+<p>Directly we go off the rain comes on, with that singular fatality
+characteristic of pleasure-trips in general, arising, doubtless, from
+the mysterious law which ordains that a man shall step into a puddle the
+instant he has had his boots blacked, and that a piece of
+bread-and-butter shall fall (how would Sir Isaac Newton have accounted
+for it?) with the buttered side downward. In a trice the deck is
+deserted by all save two or three self-devoted martyrs in macintosh, who
+"pace the plank" with that air of stern resolution worn by an Englishman
+when dancing a quadrille or discharging any other painful duty. The
+scenery throughout the entire voyage consists chiefly of fog, relieved
+by occasional patches of sand-bank; and small wonder if the superior
+attractions of the well-spread dinner-table detain most of our
+fellow-sufferers below. What is this first dish that they offer us? <i>Raw
+salmon</i>, by the shade of Soyer! sliced thin and loaded with pepper. Then
+follow soup, fried trout, roast beef, boiled ditto, slices of German
+sausage, neck of veal and bacon, fried potatoes and cabbage. Surely,
+now, "Hold, enough!" Not a bit of it: enter an enormous plum-pudding,
+which might do duty for a globe at any provincial school; next, a dish
+of rice and preserve, followed by some of the strongest conceivable
+cheese; finally, strawberries, and bilberries, with cream and sugar <i>ad
+libitum</i>. Involuntarily I recall the famous old American story of the
+"boss" at a railway refreshment-room who demanded fifty cents extra from
+a passenger who stuck to the table after all the rest had dined and gone
+away. "Your board says, 'Dinner, three dollars and fifty cents!'"
+remonstrated the victim.&mdash;"Ah! that's all very well for reasonable
+human bein's with one stomach apiece," retorted the Inexorable; "but
+when a feller eats <i>as if there were no hereafter</i>, we've got to pile it
+on!"</p>
+
+<p>As we pass Cronstadt the fog "lifts" slightly, giving us a momentary
+glimpse of the huge forts that guard the passage&mdash;the locked door which
+bars out Western Europe. There is nothing showy or pretentious about
+these squat, round-shouldered, narrow-eyed sentinels of the channel; but
+they have a grim air of reserved strength, as though they could be
+terribly effective in time of need. Two huge forts now command the
+"southern channel," in addition to the four which guarded it at the time
+of the Baltic expedition during the Crimean war; and the land-batteries
+(into which no outsider is now admitted without special permission) are
+being strengthened by movable shields of iron and other appliances of
+the kind, for which nearly one million roubles (one hundred and fifty
+thousand pounds) have been set apart. The seaward approaches are
+commanded by numerous guns of formidable calibre, and far away on the
+long, level promontory of the North Spit we can just descry a dark
+excrescence&mdash;the battery recently constructed for the defence of the
+"northern passage." Thus, from the Finnish coast to Oranienbaum a
+bristling line of unbroken fortification proclaims Russia's aversion to
+war, and the gaping mouths of innumerable cannon announce to all who
+approach, with silent eloquence, that "L'empire c'est la paix." It is a
+fine political parable that the Western traveler's first glimpse of
+Russian civilization should assume the form of a line of batteries,
+reminding one of poor Mungo Park's splendid unconscious sarcasm, when,
+while wandering helplessly in the desert, he came suddenly upon a gibbet
+with a man hanging in chains upon it; "Whereupon," says he, "I kneeled
+down and gave hearty thanks to Almighty God, who had been pleased to
+conduct me once more into a Christian and civilized country."</p>
+
+<p>As the afternoon creeps on the rain seems to fall heavier, the fog to
+brood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> thicker, the steamer to go (if possible) slower than before.
+However, everything earthly has an end except a suit in chancery; and by
+nightfall (if there <i>be</i> any nightfall in this wonderful region, where
+it is lighter at midnight than in England at daybreak) we reach Viborg,
+a neat little town built along the edge of a narrow inlet, with the
+straight, wide, dusty streets which characterize every Russian town from
+Archangelsk to Sevastopol. Along the edge of the harbor runs a well
+laid-out promenade, a favorite resort after sunset, when the cool breeze
+from the gulf comes freshly in after the long, sultry hours of the
+afternoon. Behind it cluster, like a heap of colored pebbles, the
+painted wooden houses of the town; while over all stands, like a veteran
+sentinel, the gray massive tower of the old castle, frowning upon the
+bristling masts of the harbor like the Past scowling at the Present.</p>
+
+<p>The rippling sea in front and the dark belt of forest behind give the
+whole place a very picturesque appearance; but the beauty of the latter
+is sorely marred by the destroying sweep of a recent hurricane, traces
+of which are still visible in the long swathes of fallen trees that lie
+strewn amid the greenwood, like the dead among the living.</p>
+
+<p>In the solemn, subdued light of the northern evening we rattle in a
+crazy drosky over the uneven stones of the town into the vast desolate
+square in which stands the solitary hotel, a huge barrack-like building,
+up and down which we wander for some time, like the prince in the
+Sleeping Beauty's palace, without meeting any sign of life, till at
+length in a remote corner we come suddenly upon a chubby little waiter
+about the size of a well-grown baby, to whom we give our orders. This,
+however, is his first and last appearance, for every time we ring a
+different waiter, of the same diminutive size, answers the bell; which
+oppresses us with an undefined apprehension of having got into a
+charity-school by mistake.</p>
+
+<p>When I first made the acquaintance of Viborg, a journey thither from St.
+Petersburg, though the distance by land is only about eighty miles, was
+no light undertaking. The daring traveler who elected to travel by road
+had no choice but to provide himself with abundant wrappings and a good
+stock of food, draw his strong boots up to his knee, fortify his inner
+man with scalding tea or fiery corn-whisky, and struggle through
+axle-deep mud or breast-high snow (according to the season), sometimes
+for two days together. "Mais nous avons chang&eacute; tout cela." Two trains
+run daily from St. Petersburg, covering the whole distance in about four
+hours, and the stations along the line, though bearing marks of hasty
+construction, are still sufficiently comfortable and well supplied with
+provisions. Thanks to this direct communication with the capital, Viborg
+is now completely <i>au fait</i> of the news of the day, and all fashionable
+topics are canvassed as eagerly on the promenade of this little Finnish
+seaport as along the pavements of the Nevski Prospect.</p>
+
+<p>"We must breakfast early to-morrow, mind," says P&mdash;&mdash; as we settle into
+our respective beds, "for a march in the sun here is no joke, you bet!"</p>
+
+<p>"Worse than in Arabia or South America?" ask I with calm scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find the north of Russia a pretty fair match for both at this
+season. Do you happen to know that one of the hottest places in the
+world is Archangelsk on the White Sea? In summer the pitch melts off the
+vessels like butter, and the mosquitoes are so thick that the men on
+board the grain-ships fairly burrow into the corn for shelter.<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a>
+Good-night! Sharp six to-morrow, mind!"</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, the early daylight finds us tramping along the edge of the
+picturesque little creek (dappled here and there with wood-crowned
+islets) in order to get well into our work before the sun is high in the
+sky, for a forty-mile march, knapsack on shoulder, across a difficult
+country, in the heat of a real Russian summer, is not a thing to be
+trifled with, even by men who have seen Turkey and Syria. A sudden turn
+of the road soon blots out the sea, and we plunge at once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> into the
+green silent depths of the northern forest.</p>
+
+<p>It is characteristic of the country that, barely out of sight of one of
+the principal ports of Finland, we are in the midst of a loneliness as
+utter as if it had never been broken by man. The only tokens of his
+presence are the narrow swathe of road running between the dim, unending
+files of the shadowy pine trees, and the tall wooden posts, striped
+black and white like a zebra, which mark the distance in versts from
+Viborg, the verst being two-thirds of a mile.</p>
+
+<p>To an unpractised eye the marvelous smoothness and hardness of this
+forest highway (unsurpassed by any macadamized road in England) might
+suggest a better opinion of the local civilization than it deserves; for
+in this case it is the soil, not the administration, that merits all the
+credit. In granite-paved Finland, as in limestone-paved Barbados, Nature
+has already laid down your road in a way that no human engineering can
+rival, and all you have to do is to smooth it to your own liking.</p>
+
+<p>And now the great panorama of the far North&mdash;a noble change from the
+flat unending monotony of the Russian steppes&mdash;begins in all its
+splendor. At one moment we are buried in a dark depth of forest, shadowy
+and spectral as those which haunt us in the weird outlines of Retzsch;
+the next minute we burst upon an open valley, bright with fresh grass,
+and with a still, shining lake slumbering in the centre, the whole
+picture framed in a background of sombre woods. Here rise giant boulders
+of granite, crested with spreading pines&mdash;own brothers, perhaps, of the
+block dragged hence eighty years ago from which the greatest of Russian
+rulers still looks down upon the city that bears his name;<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> there,
+bluffs of wooded hill rear themselves above the surrounding sea of
+foliage, and at times the roadside is dotted with the little wooden huts
+of the natives, whence wooden-faced women, turbaned with colored
+handkerchiefs, and white-headed children, in nothing but a short
+night-gown with a warm lining of dirt, stare wonderingly at us as we go
+striding past. And over all hangs the clear, pearly-gray northern sky.</p>
+
+<p>One hour is past, and still the air keeps moderately fresh, although the
+increasing glare warns us that it will be what I once heard a British
+tourist call "more hotterer" by and by. So far, however, we have not
+turned a hair, and the second hour's work matches the first to an inch.
+As we pass through the little hamlet which marks the first quarter of
+our allotted distance we instinctively pull out our watches: "Ten miles
+in two hours! Not so bad, but we must keep it up."</p>
+
+<p>So we set ourselves to the third hour, and out comes the sun&mdash;bright and
+beautiful and destroying as Homer's Achilles:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright are his rays, but evil fate they send,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to sad man destroying heat portend.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Hitherto, despite the severity of our pace, we have contrived to keep up
+a kind of flying conversation, but now grim silence settles on our way.
+There is a point in every match against time when the innate ferocity of
+man, called forth by the exercises which civilization has borrowed from
+the brute creation, comes to the front in earnest&mdash;when your best friend
+becomes your deadly enemy, and the fact of his being one stride in
+advance of you is an injury only to be atoned by blood. Such is the
+precise point that we have reached now; and when we turn from exchanging
+malignant looks with each other, it is only to watch with ominous
+eagerness for the coming in sight of the painted verst-posts, which
+somehow appear to succeed one another far more slowly than they did an
+hour ago.</p>
+
+<p>By the middle of the fourth hour we are marching with coats off and
+sleeves rolled up, like amateur butchers; and although our "pace" is as
+good as ever, the elastic swing of our first start is now replaced by
+that dogged, "hard-and-heavy" tramp which marks the point where the
+flesh and the spirit begin to pull in opposite directions. Were either
+of us alone, the pace would probably slacken at once, and each may
+safely say in his heart, as Condorcet said of the dying D'Alembert,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+"Had I not been there he <i>must</i> have flinched!"</p>
+
+<p>But just as the fourth hour comes to an end (during which we have looked
+at our watches as often as Wellington during the terrible mid-day hours
+that preceded the distant boom of the Prussian cannon) we come round a
+sharp bend in the road, and there before us lies the quaint little
+log-built post-house (the "halfway house" in very truth), with its
+projecting roof and painted front and striped doorposts; just at which
+auspicious moment I stumble and twist my foot.</p>
+
+<p>"You were right to reserve <i>that</i> performance to the last," remarks
+P&mdash;&mdash; with a grin, helping me to the door; and we order a <i>samovar</i>
+(tea-urn) to be heated, while we ourselves indulge in a scrambling wash
+of the rudest kind, but very refreshing nevertheless.</p>
+
+<p>Reader, did you ever walk five miles an hour for four hours together
+over a hilly country, with the thermometer at eighty-three degrees in
+the shade? If so, then will you appreciate our satisfaction as we throw
+aside our heavy boots, plunge our swollen feet into cold water, and,
+with coats off and collars thrown open, sit over our tea and black bread
+in that quaint little cross-beamed room, with an appetite never excited
+by the best <i>plats</i> of the Erz-Herzog Karl or the Trois Fr&egrave;res
+Proven&ccedil;aux. Two things, at least, one may always be sure of finding in
+perfection at a Russian post-station: tea is the one; the other I need
+not particularize, as its presence does not usually become apparent till
+you "retire to rest" (?).</p>
+
+<p>Our meal being over and my foot still unfit for active service, we order
+a <i>telyayga</i> (cart) and start anew for Imatra Foss. Our vehicle is
+simply a wooden tray on wheels, with a bag of hay in it, on which we do
+our best to recline, while our driver perches himself on the edge of the
+cart, thereby doubtless realizing vividly the sensation of rowing hard
+in a pair of thin unmentionables. Thanks to the perpetual gaps in the
+road formed by the great thaw two months ago (the Finnish winter ending
+about the beginning of May), during the greater part of the ride we
+play an animated though involuntary game of cup-and-ball, being thrown
+up and caught again incessantly. At length a dull roar, growing ever
+louder and louder, breaks the dreamy stillness of the forest, and before
+long we come to a little chalet-like inn embosomed in trees, where we
+alight, for this is the "Imatra Hotel."</p>
+
+<p>Let us cast one glance out of the back window before sitting down to
+supper (in a long, bare, chilly chamber like a third-class
+waiting-room), for such a view is not seen every day. We are on the very
+brink of a deep narrow gorge, the upper part of which is so thickly clad
+with pines as to resemble the crest of some gigantic helmet, but beneath
+the naked granite stands out in all its grim barrenness, lashed by the
+spray of the mighty torrent that roars between its projecting rocks.
+Just below us, the river, forced back by a huge boulder in the centre of
+its course, literally piles itself up into a kind of liquid mound,
+foaming, flashing and trembling incessantly, the ceaseless motion and
+tremendous din of the rapids having an indescribably bewildering effect.</p>
+
+<p>On quitting our inn the next morning a very picturesque walk of half an
+hour brings us to a little hut beside the Saima Ferry, where we find a
+party of "three fishers" from St. Petersburg, comprising a Russian
+colonel, an ex-chasseur d'Afrique (now an actor at one of the Russian
+theatres) and an Englishman. The three give us a cordial welcome, and
+insist upon our joining them; and for the next few days our surroundings
+are savagely picturesque enough to satisfy Jean-Jacques himself&mdash;living
+in a cabin of rough-hewn logs plastered with mud, sleeping on a bundle
+of straw, with our knapsacks for a pillow; tramping for miles every day
+through the sombre pine forest or fishing by moonlight in the shadowy
+lake, with the silence of a newly-created world all around; and having
+an "early pull" every morning across the ferry with our host, a squat,
+yellow-haired, gnome-like creature in sheepskin frock and bark shoes,
+who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> manifests unbounded amazement every time he sees us washing our
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>But the lake itself is, if possible, even more picturesque than the
+river. It is one of those long, straggling bodies of water so common in
+the far North, resembling not so much one great lake as an endless
+series of small ones. Just at the sortie of the river a succession of
+rapids, scarcely less magnificent than those of the "Foss" itself, rush
+between the wooded shores, their unresting whirl and fury contrasting
+gloriously with the vast expanse of glassy water above, crested with
+leafy islets and mirroring the green boughs that droop over it along the
+shore. Here did we spend many a night fishing and "spinning yarns," in
+both of which accomplishments the ex-chasseur was pre-eminent; and
+strange enough it seemed, lying in the depths of that northern forest,
+to listen to descriptions of the treeless sands of Egypt and the burning
+wastes of the Sahara. Our midnight camp, on a little promontory just
+above the rapids, was a study for Rembrandt&mdash;the slender pine-stems
+reddened by the blaze of our camp-fire; the group of bearded faces
+coming and going as the light waxed and waned; beyond the circle of
+light a gloom all the blacker for the contrast; the ghostly white of the
+foam shimmering through the leaves, and the clear moonlit sky
+overhanging all.</p>
+
+<p>When a wet day came upon us the inexhaustible ex-chasseur (who, like
+Frederick the Great, could "do everything but keep still") amused
+himself and us with various experiments in cookery, of which art he was
+a perfect master. His versatility in sauces might have aroused the envy
+of Soyer himself, and the party having brought with them a large stock
+of provisions, he was never at a loss for materials. Our ordinary dinner
+consisted of trout sauced with red wine, mutton, veal, duck, cheese,
+fresh strawberries and coffee; after which every man took his tumbler of
+tea, with a slice of lemon in it, from the stove, and the evening began.</p>
+
+<p><i>The</i> sight of the country, however, is undoubtedly the natives
+themselves. Their tawny skins, rough yellow hair and coarse flat faces
+would look uninviting enough to those who have never seen a Kalmuck or a
+Samoyede, but, despite their diet of dried fish and bread mixed with
+sawdust, both men and women are remarkably healthy and capable of
+surprising feats of strength and endurance. They make great use of bark
+for caps, shoes, plates, etc., in the making of which they are very
+skillful. As to their dress, it baffles description, and the horror of
+my friend the ex-chasseur at his first glimpse of it was as good as a
+play. On one occasion he was criticising severely the "rig" of some
+passing natives: "Voil&agrave; un qui porte un pantalon et point de bottes&mdash;un
+autre qui a des bottes et point de pantalon; peut-&ecirc;tre que le troisi&egrave;me
+n'aura ni l'un ni l'autre!" At last came one with a pair of boots almost
+big enough to go to sea in, and turned up like an Indian canoe. Our
+critic eyed them in silence for a moment, and then said with a shudder,
+"Ce sont des bottes impossibles!"</p>
+
+<p>But there needs only a short journey here to show the folly of further
+annexations on the part of Russia while those already made are so
+lamentably undeveloped. Finland, which, rightly handled, might be one of
+the czar's richest possessions, is now, after nearly seventy years'
+occupation, as unprofitable as ever. Throughout the whole province there
+are only three hundred and ninety-eight miles of railway.<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> Post-roads,
+scarce enough in the South, are absolutely wanting in the North. Steam
+navigation on the Gulf of Bothnia extends only to Uleaborg, and is, so
+far as I can learn, actually non-existent on the great lakes, except
+between Tanasthuus and Tammerfors. Such is the state of a land
+containing boundless water-power, countless acres of fine timber,
+countless shiploads of splendid granite. But what can be expected of an
+untaught population under two millions left to themselves in an
+unreclaimed country nearly as large as France?</p>
+
+<p>Helsingfors can now be reached from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> St. Petersburg, <i>vi&acirc;</i> Viborg, in
+fourteen and a half hours; but what is one such line to the boundless
+emptiness of Finland? The fearful lesson of 1869 will not be easily
+forgotten, when all the horrors of famine were let loose at once upon
+the unhappy province. Seed-corn was exhausted: bread became dear, dearer
+still, and then failed altogether. Men, women and children, struggling
+over snowy moors and frozen lakes toward the distant towns in which lay
+their only chance of life, dropped one by one on the long march of
+death, and were devoured ere they were cold by the pursuing wolves. Nor
+did the survivors fare much better: some reached the haven of refuge
+only to fall dead in its very streets. Others gorged themselves with
+unwholesome food, and died with it in their mouths. Fields lying waste;
+villages dispeopled; private houses turned into hospitals; fever-parched
+skeletons tottering from the doors of overcrowded asylums; children
+wandering about in gaunt and squalid nakedness; crowds of men, frenzied
+by prolonged misery and ripe for any outrage, roaming the streets night
+and day,&mdash;such were the scenes enacted throughout the length of Finland
+during two months and a half.</p>
+
+<p>But better days are now dawning on the afflicted land. Roads and
+railways are being pushed forward into the interior, and the ill-judged
+attempts formerly made to Russianize the population have given place to
+a more conciliatory policy. A Russian from Helsingfors tells me that
+lectures are being delivered there, and extracts from native works read,
+in the aboriginal tongue; that it is being treated with special
+attention in the great schools of Southern Finland; that there has even
+been some talk of dramatic representations in Finnish at the Helsingfors
+theatre. Such a policy is at once prudent and generous, and far better
+calculated to bind together the heterogeneous races of the empire than
+that absurd "Panslavism" which is best translated as "making every one a
+slave."</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">David Ker</span>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Finland still retains its own currency of "marks" and
+"pennia."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> A fact.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> The statue of Peter the Great stands at the corner of the
+Senate-House Square, overlooking the Neva, on a block of Finnish granite
+twenty feet high.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Since this was written two new lines have been opened.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>THE DEAD OF PARIS.</h3>
+
+<p>It is an expensive operation to die in Paris, particularly for a
+foreigner. If an unhappy American chances to pay the debt of Nature in a
+furnished apartment or a hotel, the proprietor makes the heirs of the
+deceased pay roundly for the privilege which their relation has enjoyed.
+No matter by what manner of death the departed may have made his or her
+exit, be it chronic or epidemic&mdash;anything so impossible to communicate
+as heart disease or apoplexy, for instance&mdash;every article in the room
+must be paid for at its full value, or rather quadruple that amount. As
+much as one thousand dollars has sometimes been charged for the
+plenishing of a room, everything in which, if put up at auction, would
+not have realized a tenth part of that amount. Through the efforts of
+our representatives, however, this tax has been fixed at a somewhat less
+exorbitant amount.</p>
+
+<p>Parisian funerals are conducted by a company&mdash;which, like most of such
+enterprises in France, is a gigantic monopoly&mdash;under the direct
+supervision of the government. The tariff of its charges includes nine
+grades of funerals, at prices ranging from fifteen hundred dollars down
+to four dollars. For the first amount the mourners enjoy all the
+splendors possible to the occasion&mdash;a hearse draped with velvet and
+drawn by four horses, each decked with ostrich-plumes and led by a groom
+clothed in a mourning livery; velvet draperies sprinkled with silver
+tears for the porte-coch&egrave;re wherein the coffin lies in state; and grand
+funeral lamps lit with spirits to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> flame around the bier at the church.
+For the last tariff a pine coffin painted black, a stretcher and two men
+to bear the body to the <i>fosse commune</i>, are accorded. But between these
+two extremes lies every variety of funeral that one can imagine, a very
+respectable affair with two mourning carriages being offered for about
+sixty dollars. Very few Americans are ever interred in a Paris cemetery,
+the prejudices of our nation exacting that the remains of the dead
+should be transferred to their native land. To the foreigner this
+process appears to be inexplicable, for, as a French gentleman once
+remarked to me with a shrug of his shoulders, "Only the Americans and
+English are fond of making corpses travel" (<i>de faire voyager leurs
+morts</i>). They generally prefer to call in the services of the embalmer,
+who for a charge of six hundred dollars will do his work wisely if not
+too well. Still, there are some graves of our fellow-citizens still
+visible even at P&egrave;re la Chaise. And at that historic cemetery for years
+there existed a beautiful spot, a sort of hollow on the hillside, where
+flowers, trees and grass all flourished luxuriantly, thanks to years of
+neglect. It was a wild and lovely oasis of Nature in the midst of the
+stiff, artificial formality of the rest of the cemetery, and became one
+of the sights of the place. Unfortunately, French formality revolted
+against the untamed charm of this neglected spot: the proprietor, an
+American gentleman, was sought out, the lot was repurchased by the city,
+the trees were uprooted, the hollow filled in, and the beautiful ravine
+exists no longer.</p>
+
+<p>The Compagnie des Pompes Fun&egrave;bres is obliged to inter the poor
+gratuitously; nor is this service light, as the number of free funerals
+is considerably greater than that of paying ones. The city pays one
+dollar to the company for each pauper funeral. The mass of material
+possessed by the company is very great, comprising six hundred vehicles
+of all kinds, three hundred horses, six thousand biers or stretchers,
+and a vast number of draperies, cushions, torches, etc. Over five
+hundred and seventy-five men are employed by this organization. Thanks
+to these ample arrangements, the terrible spectacle afforded during the
+cholera outbreaks of 1832 and 1849, when the dead were conveyed to the
+cemeteries piled in upholsterers' wagons, is not likely to be renewed,
+as during the exceptional mortality from the same cause in 1854 and 1865
+the arrangements were found to suffice for all demands.</p>
+
+<p>In olden times Paris was full of cemeteries: they were attached to every
+hospital and every church. The wealthy were interred in the churches
+themselves: in the church of Les Innocents, which was specially affected
+by the nobility, the aisles were often crowded with coffins awaiting
+their turn to be placed in the overcrowded vaults. Nobody troubled
+himself about the sanitary side of the question in those days, as
+witness the cemetery of Saint Roch, which in 1763 was established beside
+one of the city wells. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
+cemeteries were popular places of resort. Les Innocents was especially
+popular: it was surrounded by arcades, where booths and stores were
+established, and people came there to promenade and to amuse themselves.
+Nor were private cemeteries unknown, many prominent Jewish and
+Protestant families being privileged to inter their dead (to whom the
+Church denied burial in consecrated ground) in the gardens attached to
+their houses. Thus, when the work of reconstructing Paris under the
+Second Empire was begun, the enormous quantity of graves that were
+discovered filled the workers with amaze. The bones thus found were at
+first transferred to the Western Cemetery, which had been closed for
+over twenty years, but the accumulation speedily became unmanageable,
+and when a mass of over three thousand square feet of bones had been
+deposited there, a decree of the authorities caused the whole and all
+similar discoveries to be deposited in the catacombs.</p>
+
+<p>The Revolution did away with the greater part of the intramural
+cemeteries by suppressing those attached to the churches and declaring
+the ground to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> be national property: they were consequently parceled out
+into lots and sold. But the guillotine created a need for new
+burial-grounds, two of which were accordingly established. One, situated
+near the Place du Tr&ocirc;ne, still exists: it occupies the former site of
+the gardens of the Dames Chauvinesses de Picpus. After the Revolution it
+was purchased by an association of the surviving members of families who
+had relatives interred there. This cemetery ought to be a pilgrim shrine
+for every American visiting Paris, for it was chosen as a last
+resting-place for the remains of La Fayette. The other "garden of the
+guillotine," as these cemeteries were once significantly called, has
+long since disappeared, but the Chapelle Expiatoire erected to the
+memory of Marie Antoinette and of Louis XVI. on the Boulevard Haussmann
+now marks its former site. It was there that the bodies of these royal
+victims of revolutionary fury were hastily interred in a bed of
+quicklime, with a thick layer of quicklime cast over each of them. When,
+after the Restoration, the task of exhuming the royal remains was
+undertaken, crumbling bones alone remained to point out the
+resting-place of the once beautiful daughter of the C&aelig;sars and of the
+descendant of Saint Louis. The smaller bones of the skeleton of Louis
+XVI., in particular, had almost wholly disappeared: that of the queen
+was in better preservation, owing to a smaller quantity of quicklime
+having been used. Strange to say, her garters, which were of elastic
+webbing, were found in a state of almost perfect preservation, while of
+the rest of her garments only a few rotting fragments remained. These
+garters, together with some pieces of the coffins, were presented as
+precious relics to Louis XVIII. But grave doubts have frequently been
+expressed, in view of the very slight means of identification afforded
+by the state of the remains, as to whether these crumbling relics of
+mortality were really those of the king and queen. With the exception of
+the plot on which stands the Chapelle Expiatoire, every vestige of the
+revolutionary cemetery has long since disappeared. The splendid
+Boulevard Haussmann now passes directly over its site, and the gayety
+and animation of one of the most brilliant quarters of modern Paris
+surround what was once the last resting-place of those who perished by
+the guillotine on the Place de la R&eacute;volution.</p>
+
+<p>The present system of Parisian cemeteries was only adopted at the
+beginning of this century. Paris now possesses twenty, the most
+important of which are P&egrave;re la Chaise and Montparnasse. The ground of
+all of these belongs to the city. You can purchase a lot to be held for
+ever, or you can buy a temporary concession, the price varying with the
+length of time for which the ground is to be held. Five years is the
+shortest period for which a lot can be accorded, as experts declare that
+the body is not wholly absorbed into the surrounding earth before that
+time.</p>
+
+<p>What shall Paris do with her dead? is now becoming a very serious
+question. It is against the law to bury bodies within her limits, yet
+fourteen out of her twenty cemeteries are within her bounds, and the
+vast city, spreading out on either side, soon catches up with those
+established on her exterior territories.</p>
+
+<p>It has been proposed to construct a new and immense cemetery at a
+distance of some twenty or thirty miles from the city, to which the
+funeral cort&eacute;ges could be transferred by rail. But the strong sentiment
+of the French for the dead has as yet prevented the realization of this
+very sensible and really necessary project. As a rule, the French are
+very fond of visiting the graves of their departed relatives, and on the
+great anniversary for such visits, "Le Jour des Morts," it is calculated
+that over half a million persons are present in the different cemeteries
+during the day. On such occasions not only are wreaths of natural
+flowers, of beads and of immortelles deposited on the tombs, but often
+the visiting-cards of the persons who have come to pay due respect to
+the dead. The tomb of Rachel, for instance, has been specially honored
+in that way, some of the visitors even turning up the corner of the card
+to show that they had called in person. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> question suggests itself,
+<i>What if the visit should be returned?</i> Edgar A. Poe might have found in
+this idea material for one of his weird and wondrous tales. We all know
+what happened when Don Juan in merry fashion begged that the statue of
+his former victim would come to take supper with him.</p>
+
+<p>The French authorities have indeed purchased a vast tract of ground at
+M&eacute;ry-sur-Oise, distant from Paris about one hour by rail, with intent to
+found there a vast central necropolis, but the prejudices or
+indifference of the Parisian populace have as yet prevented the
+realization of this project. Something must be done, however, and that
+speedily. Were cremation an established fact, that would settle the
+whole matter, but the French, who always seem to get an attack of piety
+in the wrong place, are horrified at such an idea. It is probable,
+therefore, that a law will be adopted, such as is now in force in
+Switzerland, making all concessions of burial-lots merely temporary.
+Such a law is already talked of, and the duration of the longest
+concession is fixed at ten years. A regulation of this kind would of
+course do away with much of the elegance of decoration that now
+distinguishes the Parisian cemeteries, as few families would care to
+erect costly monuments over a grave that must be vacated at the end of
+ten years.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+L. H. H.
+</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE RELIGIOUS STRUGGLE AT GENEVA.</h3>
+
+<p>Even for a chance resident in Geneva, for a disinterested stranger to
+the strife, the Ultramontane and Old Catholic question is no more to be
+avoided than the <i>bise</i> which blows in the month of November upon the
+just and the unjust. You take the longest way round through the
+sheltered streets, if you like, but the terrific north wind is certain
+to catch you at the first square you cross. And you may say you have no
+particular interest in the war of churches, and no adequate means of
+forming a judgment: you still hear a good deal that is said, and read
+much that is written, on the burning topic. If a supporter of the ruling
+party describes what occurred some months since at Bellerive on the
+lake shore, when a company of gendarmes marched into the village, took
+possession of the church, set the Swiss cross floating from the steeple
+and established the new <i>cur&eacute;</i> by force of arms, in place of the
+Ultramontane incumbent, who had long defied the cantonal authorities and
+remained at his post in spite of reiterated orders to depart, the
+impression you receive is that of the might and majesty of the law
+triumphant. What else can be done, they ask, when the government of the
+land is flouted in open scorn? What, indeed? And the counter-display of
+banners by the vanquished party on that eventful day illustrated, it
+would appear, the well-known step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
+Every black rag on which they could lay hands dangled from the windows
+of the faithful in sign of distress: not even a petticoat rather the
+worse for wear but did duty on the occasion. And yet one thoroughly
+convinced of the puerility of such demonstrations may also think that
+the Swiss flag itself has been unfurled in causes more glorious.</p>
+
+<p>"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church," say the
+persecuted. "Where the government has put in an apostate priest, he
+celebrates mass to empty benches: we set up our altar in a barn, and it
+is full to overflowing." So far as this city is concerned, the statement
+is correct. The place of worship to which the Ultramontanes retired when
+driven from the cathedral of Notre Dame may, if they choose, be called a
+barn&mdash;a large one&mdash;and it is furnished with a goodly congregation,
+whereas the forty or fifty persons who assemble in their former church
+look no more than "a handful of corn upon the mountains." It must be
+admitted also that in sowing after the manner of the martyrs the
+Ultramontanes are ready and willing, and should the official rigors be
+insufficient they will perhaps do a little private bloodletting for the
+sake of contributing handsomely to the support of their cause. The
+Sisters of Charity, expelled from Geneva last year as exercising a
+pernicious influence, are said to have opened all their veins before
+they went. Excepting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> that blood, however, it is not apparent that they
+lost a great deal: they merely crossed the boundary into France, can
+revisit the scene of their martyrdom whenever they please, and moreover,
+in their present quality of strangers, the government has lost the right
+of interference with their apparel, so that the stiff white bonnets may
+now walk with impunity under the very nose of a <i>conseiller d'&eacute;tat</i>. The
+inhabitants of the canton are severely restricted as to costume under
+the present r&eacute;gime. No native priest is permitted a distinctive dress,
+and where a couple of large hats and long skirts are seen strolling
+through the streets, you know they are from over the border. Jesuitism
+is not to parade in full uniform, nor is it to lurk privily under never
+so humble a roof. In their struggles with the hydra-headed monster the
+men in the high places of this canton found themselves lately face to
+face with an odd set of opponents. An association of servant-girls,
+animated by the spirit of party, had stepped into the vacant quarters of
+the Sisters&mdash;a locality already confiscated by the government. The
+object of the society is praiseworthy: it provides a home for servants
+out of place, and nurses and maintains such as are sick or destitute.
+Still, the powers that be thought such Christian charity might be
+exercised as well elsewhere, and sent a notice to quit, of which the
+domestics, with a traditional contempt for lawful authority, made no
+account whatever. They were threatened with the police, but still stood
+firm, and not until an armed force actually descended upon them did they
+retire in good order, bearing one of their company on a mattress. Those
+interested in their behalf call attention to the fact that the sick
+person had to be transported through the streets on the coldest day of
+the season, while the party of the gendarmerie cause it to be understood
+that said person only took to her bed when the judicial knock sounded at
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>Scandalous wrangling, petty bickering, the zealous wrath of true
+conviction on either side,&mdash;there is room for them all in a contest like
+this, where every one must wear the badge of party in plain sight, and
+defend it as best he may, but defend it at all costs. To stand between
+two such hostile forces is to be regarded as an enemy by both, and is a
+situation that may seem equivocal even to lookers-on. Yet those who
+listen habitually to the one man who has chosen that unenviable post can
+hardly complain of want of clearness in his own defining of his
+position. P&egrave;re Hyacinthe is sometimes held to be on the high road to
+Protestantism. Any one who went out in the middle of some discourse of
+his, and so heard only the warm-hearted, candid confession of sympathy
+with all that is excellent among heretics, might carry away such an
+impression: those who remain until the inevitable "<i>mais</i>" with which
+the second proposition begins are convinced that to grasp the hand he
+holds out for Church unity the Protestants would have many more steps to
+take than he contemplates on his side, and that the meeting could by no
+means be a halfway one. Another numerously-supported opinion is that of
+his waiting only for a good opportunity to return to the true fold.
+Certain it is that at all times and in all places he calls himself a
+faithful son of that Church of which, as he ceases not to reiterate, he
+has never sought the ruin, but the reform. Who, however, hearing the
+scathing apostrophe that follows to the address of the misguided old man
+who holds the keys of St. Peter can feel that this son of Rome, devoted
+though he be, is very ready to sue for pardon? On the contrary, let the
+shepherd repent, then the wandering sheep may come back to the flock. A
+weightier charge against him than any other is that of betraying party,
+of faithlessly turning his back on the cause he once espoused. But that
+cause is still his, as he declares: no one has more at heart the success
+of the Old Catholic movement than he, no one a warmer desire to see the
+purified Church in the place that is hers of right; but also no one has
+a deeper abhorrence of that Church lending herself as a servant to
+political intrigues, be the government that sets them on foot called
+despotic or republican. And then the Grand Conseil comes in for no
+little scorn and contempt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> P&egrave;re Hyacinthe may be a Jesuit in disguise,
+or a Calvinist at heart, or a broken reed that pierces the hand of him
+who leans on it; but there is still another hypothesis: he may be a man
+endowed with the rare gift of seeing all sides of a question with equal
+impartiality, and one not to be deterred by any party considerations
+from speaking his free opinion: in that case it is certain that he would
+find no place in either of the factions at variance in this
+commonwealth.</p>
+
+<p>How large the number of those who followed P&egrave;re Hyacinthe when he took
+up his present isolated position it would be difficult to estimate, for
+the services at the Casino are attended by others besides his own flock;
+Sunday after Sunday the barren concert-hall is filled, but many faces
+wear an expectant look that distinguishes them as passing strangers from
+the frequenters of the place; and when the mass begins there is evident
+doubt in the minds of some how far loyalty to their own simpler forms
+permits them to unite in this worship. They solve the question by
+standing up whenever a change of position seems to be called for; and in
+fact to kneel in the narrow, crowded seats is almost impossible, so that
+the front row, with more space at its disposal, may be properly expected
+to act as proxy for all the rest. There comes a moment, however, that
+unites Catholic and Protestant under one spell: it is when the first
+word falls from the lips of the great speaker. Whatever the subject,
+whether Catholic reform or the state of the soul after death, a
+breathless stillness bears witness to enchained attention. Such a theme
+as the latter must lead far from the daily ways of thought that many
+tread who listen: when the silver tongue ceases, one may murmur to
+another, "Mystical!" and yet a very untranscendental mind, borne upward
+for the moment by that wondrous eloquence, might well catch some vision
+of a mysterious bond between the Church militant and the Church
+triumphant&mdash;might all but feel a tie linking that strangely-mingled
+assemblage with the Blessed Company of All Saints.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+G. H. P.
+</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE COMING ELECTIONS IN FRANCE.</h3>
+
+<p>The crisis brought about in France by Marshal MacMahon's <i>coup de
+palais</i> of May 16, 1877, has thrown the country just four years back.
+Circumstances widely different in character from those which caused the
+overthrow of M. Thiers on May 24, 1873, have once more placed the
+government in the hands of men of whom the Republic might well have
+thought itself for ever rid. At that time the blow was struck by a
+parliamentary majority. This time it is the representative of the
+executive power who has thought fit to interfere, seeking to substitute
+an authoritative for a parliamentary government. When MacMahon assumed
+power he declared that his post was that of "a sentinel who has to watch
+over the integrity of your sovereign powers;" but it would appear as
+though the recollection of his own earlier career, his clerical
+associations and other secret influences at work, had made him ambitious
+to occupy a higher position. From the post of sentinel he leaps to that
+of generalissimo; and there can be little doubt as to the cause which
+the transition is intended to serve.</p>
+
+<p>There is no longer anything to fear from the Legitimists: the
+death-knell of that party was rung by the Count de Chambord's famous
+letter of October 30, 1873, declaring his continued adherence to Bourbon
+principles. Nor is aught to be apprehended from the Orleanists.
+They&mdash;the Centre-Right in the two houses&mdash;long hesitated whether to cast
+in their lot with the Republic, which would annihilate them by
+absorption with the Centre-Left, or to join the ranks of the so-called
+Conservatives, who are undoubtedly destined to swamp them in the stream
+of imperialism. After much swaying to and fro they have, it would seem,
+at length determined to follow their usual party tactics and go over
+bodily to the side which appears to them to present the least immediate
+danger&mdash;viz., the Imperialist. There is no disguising the matter. The
+battle this time will be between the Republicans and the Bonapartists.
+M. Gambetta, in the course of his eloquent speech<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> of May 4, 1877,
+cried, "Le cl&eacute;ricalisme, voil&agrave; l'ennemi." Powerful, however, as is the
+clerical party to embarrass, it is not strong enough at the urns to
+over-turn the Republic. Imperialism alone can hope to do that when,
+arrayed in fight against the present form of government, it seeks to win
+over to its side the country population, those six million electors for
+the most part owners of the soil they till, and on whose decision hinges
+to a large extent the future of France. These <i>paysans</i> will vote for
+one of two things&mdash;the Republic or the Empire, the marshal-president
+before the 16th of May, or the marshal-president who "belongs to the
+Right."</p>
+
+<p>In France this is, in some degree at least, understood, and even now
+each party is mustering all its forces so as to be prepared for the
+October elections. The Republicans are already well organized, with
+their committees and sub-committees awaiting the instructions of their
+leader. They will proceed to the polls encouraged by their success at
+the last elections, taking credit for the tranquil state of France up to
+the 16th of May, 1877, setting forth their moderation when in power, the
+guarantees they have given for the maintenance of order, and the almost
+unanimous approbation their conduct of affairs has met with at the hands
+of the foreign press.</p>
+
+<p>The Bonapartists will put on their panoply of battle, strong in the
+support of the marshal, his prefects, his mayors and the cohorts of
+inferior appointees, such as the gendarmes, the rural constabulary, and
+all that powerful mechanism at the disposal of a government which sets
+up official candidates with the avowed intention of carrying the
+elections by the almost irresistible force of French centralization. All
+who have seen in motion that formidable political machine called a
+French prefecture know what this implies. It will be recollected that
+nearly all the prefects have been changed since the 16th of May. The
+prefect is appointed by the Minister of the Interior, and receives from
+him every day by telegraph the word of command, while the post brings
+him official circulars. These orders he in turn communicates to his
+subordinates, the mayors. The mayors are, it is true, not all appointed
+by the prefects, those in the rural districts being elected by the town
+councils. Nevertheless, they are all more or less under the thumb of the
+prefects. They need the prefect's signature almost every day to stamp
+some official act; they require government grants for the maintenance of
+schools, roads and other purposes in their communes; they dare not
+offend the prefects, under penalty of having men appointed as rural
+constables, mayors' secretaries and letter-carriers who shall be so many
+enemies of the mayors and shall thwart them at every step. The prefect
+thus exercises enormous influence in every commune, both over the mayor
+and the lower class of appointees. He likewise holds in subjection in
+the various districts the justices of the peace, whose appointments can
+be revoked at will should they vote against orders or fail to use their
+influence on behalf of the official candidate. The prefect also reigns
+supreme over the brigades of foot and mounted gendarmerie scattered
+throughout his department. Of course, the gendarmes do not follow a man
+to the poll to see that he votes to order, but both the gendarmes and
+the rural constables understand that they are to act as gently toward
+the liquor-sellers who vote as they are bidden as they are to proceed
+rigorously against those who contend for the right of private judgment.
+If the latter get into trouble, they must be made an example of, whereas
+should the supporters of the official candidates have broken the law,
+matters may easily be arranged. Besides these instruments, the prefect
+has his newspaper, containing articles carefully prepared beforehand at
+Paris, which he has distributed gratuitously among the electors during
+the whole of the campaign. This newspaper enjoys the patronage of the
+judicial and official advertisements, for the insertion of which,
+American readers need scarcely be told, it receives very handsome pay.
+Even the post-office is made to join in the conspiracy against the
+opposition candidate, and it is no rare occurrence for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> the newspapers
+and the voting tickets issued by the anti-official party to be held back
+at the post-office until the day after the election.</p>
+
+<p>All these means, and others besides, are used to intimidate the country
+population. The strength of the administration is paraded before them. A
+great show of energy&mdash;or, to use the expressive French word, <i>de
+poigne</i>&mdash;is made. This is done in order that the French peasant,
+instinctively attracted by a display of power and repelled by an
+exhibition of weakness, may cast his vote for the man who appears to be
+the stronger candidate, and who enjoys the friendship of Monsieur le
+Pr&eacute;fet.</p>
+
+<p>In February, 1876, M. Buffet, then Minister of the Interior, only
+employed the means above described sparingly and stealthily. The favor
+with which he viewed the aspirations of the clerical party caused him to
+allow the Bonapartist machine to get somewhat rusty. In October, 1877,
+M. de Fourtou, the Bonapartist Minister of the Interior, selected by the
+marshal and his advisers as the fittest for the post, will, we may rest
+assured, make ample use of the levers of administrative centralization.
+His past career furnishes evidence that he will not hesitate an instant
+to declare as the official nominee, and energetically to support, any
+anti-Republican candidate having the least chance of success. Under such
+circumstances in almost every electoral district in the north, centre
+and west of France there will be a Bonapartist candidate. The situation
+insensibly recalls Dryden's well-known lines:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To further this, Achitophel unites<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The malcontents of all the Israelites,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose differing parties he could wisely join<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For several ends to serve the same design.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Even in 1876, when they were left to their own resources, the
+Imperialists were able to carry the election of about a hundred of their
+adherents. Now, with one of their own party as the leading wire-puller,
+and with the aid of the not over-scrupulous <i>pr&eacute;fets &agrave; poigne</i>&mdash;who have
+scarcely forgotten the instruction they received during Napoleon's
+reign&mdash;the Imperialists will not despair of getting another one hundred
+and fifty, perhaps even two hundred, members into the Chamber.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+C. H. H.
+</p>
+
+
+<h3>VON MOLTKE IN TURKEY.</h3>
+
+<p>Artemus Ward, giving his reasons for approving of G. Washington, adduced
+the pleasing fact that "George never slopped over." Had that king of
+jokers ever uttered a "sparkling remark" about H. von Moltke (as we may
+be sure he would have done if he had lived until now), it would most
+probably have conveyed a very similar idea in equally scintillating
+language. It is currently reported of the last-named gentleman that he
+"keeps silence in seven languages." Like the great William of Orange, he
+is popularly nicknamed in his own country "the silent man" (<i>der
+Schweiger</i>). Perhaps this habitual reticence is one reason why his
+utterances are received&mdash;when he speaks at all&mdash;by his countrymen
+generally with such deep respect and interest; for even the all-powerful
+Bismarck cannot command, among Germans, a stricter attention to his
+speeches. And with regard to military subjects at least, it is natural
+that the rest of the world should not be altogether indifferent to what
+the famous strategist may have to say.</p>
+
+<p>But this ability to refrain from utterance did not, at an earlier period
+of his life, prevent his doing what is traditionally asserted to gratify
+a man's enemies; and patriotic Frenchmen ought to be glad to know that
+he once wrote a book. Indeed, he has written more than one, but there is
+one of his productions which is now attracting a great deal of
+attention. This work is entitled "<i>Letters on the State of, and Events
+in, Turkey, from 1835 to 1839</i>. By Helmuth von Moltke, Captain on the
+General Staff, afterward General and Field-marshal." At least this is
+the title under which the book has lately been republished at Berlin.
+The original designation was a little less overpowering, but quite huge
+enough, apparently, to smother the young literary effort; for it died
+quickly, and though some forty years have passed since the first edition
+appeared (with a warm recommendation from the eminent geographer Karl
+Ritter), yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> the one just issued is only the second. It is now preceded
+by a short introduction written for the publishers at their urgent
+request; and no more widely-popular book has appeared in Germany for
+many years. The people take a vast amount of pleasure in reading the
+descriptions of their staid, soldierly old field-marshal attired in
+Oriental garb and figuring among scenes which might have been taken from
+the <i>Arabian Nights</i>.</p>
+
+<p>But, aside from any personal considerations, the book is really a very
+interesting and valuable one, and unquestionably deserved a better fate
+than that which overtook it at first. And now that everything connected
+with Turkey possesses a special interest for the world at large, it will
+well repay a careful perusal.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain" von Moltke went to Turkey in the thirty-fifth year of his age,
+and at a time when the public interest in that country was hardly less
+active than it has been lately. The war of 1828 and 1829, and Sultan
+Mahmud II.'s energetic action in fighting his foes and undertaking vast
+internal reforms, had caused the attention of the world to be
+concentrated upon his affairs. The young German staff-officer intended
+spending only a few weeks in the Ottoman empire. But the sultan was
+anxious to avail himself of the services of just such men, and the offer
+of an appointment as <i>musteschar</i> ("imperial councilor") was too
+tempting for Von Moltke to refuse. Installed in his office, he soon made
+his value apparent to both the sultan and Chosrew Pasha, the seraskier,
+who was in high favor at court, and in a short time a vast number and
+variety of duties were assigned to him. Was a difficult bridge-building
+project to be carried out, he was the man to make it a success; did the
+sultan's palace need to have another tower perched upon it, he must
+direct the work: in fact, it seemed to be the prevailing impression that
+the advice and assistance of "Moltke Pasha" were good things to have in
+any situation.</p>
+
+<p>His good standing in high government circles made him much sought after
+by Turkish subordinate officials, who hoped to make use of his interest
+to their own advantage. According to the common custom in that part of
+the world, they sent him presents in great numbers. Horses enough were
+given to him to mount a whole company of cavalry, and not unfrequently
+also these propitiatory offerings took the form of hard cash. He asserts
+that any hesitation about accepting these donations would merely have
+convinced the givers that he thought them too small; and he was
+therefore obliged to resort to the expedient of dividing them among his
+servants and employ&eacute;s. These proceedings won for him the honorable
+distinction of being considered <i>delih</i>, which may be translated by the
+popular expression "cracked." Among other delicate attentions offered to
+him as a stranger was the infliction of the bastinado upon certain
+criminals in his presence and with a view to his gratification. Certain
+Greeks, who were thus made to take a very important part in getting the
+entertainment to the foreigner <i>on foot</i>, were considerately allowed a
+very liberal reduction in the number of blows they were to receive,
+which was only twenty-five hundred!</p>
+
+<p>But, in addition to such diversions, Von Moltke's experiences in Turkey
+included many opportunities to become thoroughly acquainted with the
+face of the country and the characteristics of the various races
+inhabiting it. He accompanied the sultan during an extensive tour made
+by the latter among the Christian provinces, and gives an interesting
+account of the journey. At another time he was sent to Syria, where the
+royal forces were operating against Ibrahim Pasha, and here it was that
+the future great general went through his first campaign. That it ended
+in a most disastrous defeat for the side upon which he was enlisted does
+not seem to have been due to any want of energy on his part. Soon after
+this he gave up his post under the Turkish government and returned to
+his native land.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+W. W. C.
+</p>
+
+
+<h3>PUNCHING THE DRINKS.</h3>
+
+<p>The latest move upon John Barleycorn's works is engineered by the
+legislative wisdom of the Old Dominion. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> consists in a bell-punch on
+the model, embalmed already in poetry, of the implement which forms the
+most conspicuous feature of the street-car conductor's outfit. The
+disappearance of each drink is to be announced to all within hearing by
+a sprightly peal on a kind of joy-bell Edgar A. Poe lived too soon to
+include in his tintinnabulatory verses. The chimes vary in intensity and
+glee according to the magnitude of the event they at once celebrate and
+record. Lager elicits but a modest jingle, whisky unadorned is honored
+with a louder greeting, and the arrival of an artistic cobbler at the
+seat of thirst is the signal for a triple bob-major of the most
+brilliant vivacity. On a court day, an election day or a circus day the
+air will vibrate to the incessant and inspiriting clangor; and as in one
+part or another of the Commonwealth one at least of those festivals so
+dear to freemen is in blast always, the din will be ended only by
+midnight, resounding over her whole surface from daylight to the
+witching hour.</p>
+
+<p>J.B.'s assailants, and their modes of attack, are innumerable. Every
+foot of his enceinte is scarred with the dint of siege, and from every
+battlement "the flight of baffled foes" he has "watched along the
+plain." Sap and storm have alike failed to bring down his rosy colors.
+Father Mathew, Gough, the Sons of Temperance, the Straight-Outs,&mdash;where
+are they? He stands intact and defiant. Should he surrender, it will be
+a wondrous triumph, and all the more so for the simplicity of the means.
+The marvel will be, as with Columbus and the egg, why everybody did not
+think of it long ago.</p>
+
+<p>The way once opened, all will flock in. Divines, statesmen, moralists
+and financiers will all strike for the new placer. The moral reformers
+will brandish aloft the tinkling weapon, enthusiastic in their
+determination to use it to the utmost and bring down tippling to a
+minimum. Lawmakers and tax-gatherers will rejoice over a new and fertile
+source of revenue, and pile upon it impost on impost, secure of the
+approval of the most grumbling of tax-payers. To the new fiscal and
+moral California all will flock.</p>
+
+<p>The extent of the revolution is as little to be estimated in advance as
+was that caused by Columbus's voyage. Strong drink pervades all
+civilized lands. It is a universal element, the elimination of which
+must produce changes impossible to be calculated or foreseen. Should the
+grand moral results anticipated follow, the difference between civilized
+man and his sober savage fellow will be widened. Progress will no longer
+be handicapped, and will press forward with accelerated speed. Its path
+will cease to be strewn with broken fortunes, happiness and bottles.
+Policemen and criminal courts will lose, according to standard
+statistics, four-fifths of their occupation. In that proportion the
+cause of virtue will gain. Mankind will be four hundred per cent. more
+honest and peaceable than before the passage of the whisky-punch bill.
+With the public treasury full, and the detective, the juryman and the
+shyster existent only in a fossil state, the millennium will have been,
+as the phrase runs, discounted.</p>
+
+<p>But we run foul of the inevitable and inexorable <i>If</i>. Is the machine
+invented that is to do such work? Is it within the reach of any
+combination of springs, ratchets and clappers? Is the leviathan of
+strong drink to be hooked after that fashion&mdash;a bit put in his mouth and
+the monster made to draw the car of state? We shall see. The end would
+justify much more ponderous and hazardous means, and the chance is worth
+taking. Independent of the general blessing to mankind involved in the
+punch idea, Virginia proposes in it a special benefit to herself; and
+that of course is her chief motive. States so very much in debt as she
+is are not prone to quixotic philanthropy. Should this novel form of
+taxation assist in paying the interest on her bonds, she will patiently
+wait for the secondary, if broader, good accruing to the world at large.
+Men, she argues, who are able to indulge in stimulants are able to pay
+their debts, and at least their share of the public debt. Each click of
+the bell proclaims her adoption of this theory, and at the same time her
+anxiety to find some means of satisfying her creditors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> If she can
+cancel at once her bonds and Barleycorn, so much the better.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+E. B.
+</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE NAUTCH-DANCERS OF INDIA.</h3>
+
+<p>The Prince of Wales was severely censured by some of the English
+journals for dignifying by his presence the nautch-dancing of India.
+These performances are peculiar to the country and its religion, and
+constitute so important a part of the marvels of the East that few male
+travelers at least fail to witness them. Probably the prince saw no good
+reason why he should forego any of the benefits of sightseeing
+vouchsafed to the ordinary traveler. Dancing has always been an
+important feature of the ceremonial worship of most Oriental peoples.
+Every temple of note in India has attached to it a troop of
+nautch-dancers. According to Mr. Sellen, the author of <i>Annotations of
+the Sacred Writing's of the Hindus</i> (London, 1865), these young girls
+are "early initiated into all the mysteries of their profession. They
+are instructed in dancing and vocal and instrumental music, their chief
+employment being to chant the sacred hymns and perform nautches before
+their god on the recurrence of high festivals." One of the English
+papers declared that "witnessing the physical contortions of half-nude
+prostitutes" was hardly a commendable amusement in the future sovereign
+of Great Britain. But this is hardly just. Vile as the calling of the
+nautch-women may be&mdash;and one of their duties is to raise funds for the
+aggrandizement of the temple to which they are attached by selling
+themselves in its courts&mdash;it does not degrade like ordinary prostitution
+where all society shuns and abhors its votary. In India both priest and
+layman respect the calling of the nautch-girls as one advancing the
+cause of religion. It is possible, therefore, to see that their moral
+nature is, in a sense, sustained by self-respect. "Being always women of
+more or less personal attractions, which are enhanced," says the same
+author, "by all the seductions of dress, jewels, accomplishments and
+art, they frequently receive large sums for the favors they grant, and
+fifty, one hundred, and even two hundred, rupees have been known to be
+paid to these sirens at one time." Nor is this very much to be wondered
+at if it be true that they comprise among their number "some of the
+loveliest women in the world."</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+M. H.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>LITERATURE OF THE DAY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The Two Americas: An Account of Sport and Travel, with Notes
+on Men and Manners, in North and South America. By Major Sir
+Rose Lambart Price, Bart. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott &amp;
+Co.</p></div>
+
+<p>It would hardly be inferred from such a title that the duodecimo in
+large print which assumes to discuss the New World is occupied with the
+diary of a tour in a gunboat from Rio de Janeiro through Magellan's
+Straits and up the west coast of South America to San Diego, and thence
+by stage and railway to San Francisco, Salt Lake and Chicago. An
+exploration of this character could not be exhaustive, and the
+successors of the gallant major will find an abundance of matter left in
+the twin continents for much larger books with much smaller titles.</p>
+
+<p>It must be said, in justice to the writer, that the pretentiousness of
+his book is only skin-deep. It "thunders in the index," but disappears
+after the front page. He makes no claim to profundity, and is satisfied
+to be an authority among Nimrods rather than with statesmen and
+philosophers. The rod and gun suit his hand better than the pen, and he
+takes not the least trouble to disguise the fact. Style is the very
+least of his cares: we should almost judge, indeed, that he likes to
+parade his contempt for it. The pronoun <i>who</i> he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> constantly applies to
+animals, from a sheep to a shellfish. Of the Uruguayan thistles he
+notes: "The abundance of this weed was quite surprising, and consisted
+chiefly of two kinds." The gentleman of color he invariably mentions as
+a <i>nigger</i>&mdash;a word as strange to ears polite in America, and perhaps as
+natural to them in England, as <i>nasty</i>. He plucks at Sir G. Wolseley's
+laurels won in "licking a few miserable niggers in Ashantee."</p>
+
+<p>But literary vanities can be despised by a man who drops a prong-horned
+antelope at one thousand and ninety yards; overtakes by swimming, and
+captures, a turtle in mid-ocean; finishes with a single ball a grizzly
+<i>who</i> had put to flight the settlers of half a county in Idaho; stalks a
+guanaco in Patagonia nine feet high to the top of the head; and catches
+in one day's fishing, "the only day I really worked hard, twenty-seven
+California salmon, weighing three hundred and twenty-four pounds." The
+majesty of the facts utterly overshadows any little blemishes in the
+method of stating them. Truth so grand might well afford to present
+itself quite naked, as Truth poetically does&mdash;much more somewhat
+defective in the cut of its garments.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Rose Price is a cosmopolitan sportsman, having hunted the jungles of
+India, the swamps of Eastern Africa and China, the fjelds of Norway, and
+most other fields of "mimic war." As usual with persons of that taste,
+he enjoys perfect health, and, like most persons who know that great
+blessing, he is full of bonhommie and looks on the rosy side of things.
+Mosquitoes he dislikes: he denounces also the modern Peruvians. But his
+chief bitterness is reserved for the unhappy gunboat, the Rocket, which
+took eight months to get him to San Diego, and spent half an hour in
+turning round. Whether or not that particular segment of England's
+wooden walls was built in the eclipse, no reader of Sir Rose's book will
+doubt that she is rigged with curses dark. When he leaves her a cloud
+seems to be lifted from his soul. Everything thereafter is delightful,
+if we except the climate of San Francisco, which he abominates as windy
+and extreme in its daily changes, and the social system which prevails
+under Brigham Young. The "big trees" transport him; the California
+stage-drivers are unapproachable in the world; the officers of the
+United States army treat him with the most assiduous and unvaried
+courtesy and hospitality; the ladies of both coasts of the United
+States are unrivaled for beauty; and "the more one sees of America, both
+of people and country, the better one likes both." He sums up in the
+following climax: "Should any visit America after reading these lines,
+let me advise them to pay particular attention to three subjects&mdash;<i>i.
+e.</i>, canvas-back ducks, terrapin and madeira. This to the uninitiated is
+a hint worth remembering." The last word, we take it, refers to the wine
+of that name, which we had thought was still in process of very slow
+recovery from the eclipse of twenty-five years ago. The major, however,
+knows wine, and speaks impartially of it. The wines of California he
+damns unreservedly: the Californians themselves, he says, never drink
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Rose Price became intimate with the brave and unfortunate Custer. He
+was to have joined that officer on the expedition which terminated so
+fatally. His "traps were packed" and he was ready to start, when, as he
+states it, a singular train of untoward events interposed and saved his
+scalp. Secretary Belknap was impeached&mdash;General Custer was summoned to
+Washington and gave testimony unfavorable to the accused. General
+Grant's alleged disgust thereat caused Custer to be deprived of
+independent command and the power of appointing a staff. Hence <i>The Two
+Americas</i> and one scalp less at the belt of Sitting Bull.</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall): An Autobiographical
+Fragment and Biographical Notes; with Personal Sketches of
+Contemporaries, Unpublished Lyrics, and Letters of Literary
+Friends. Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p></div>
+
+<p>Neither the biographer nor the critic finds it easy to get a good grip
+on a personal or literary career so little marked by salient features as
+that of Procter. The lives of few individuals have rolled on more evenly
+than his did for the round eighty years which made its term. Not of high
+or of low birth, rich or poor, feeble or vigorous in health, a man of
+the world or a recluse, ardent or cold in emotions, his figure is
+strangely wanting in light and shade. As a poet and a thinker his
+character is equally evasive. His verse can rarely be pronounced
+decidedly feeble or commonplace, and never lofty or thrilling. He will
+be remembered by two or three short poems tender in fancy and soft in
+finish. Inquirers who are tempted by these to explore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> the rest of his
+productions will find them readable, but not memorable, and will wonder
+at learning that a tragedy of Procter's attained a success on the London
+stage denied to either of Tennyson's.</p>
+
+<p>The poet will go down to posterity under an assumed name, that under
+which he was almost exclusively known to readers of his own day. Thus
+buried under an anonym, and gravitating at all points toward mediocrity,
+it is odd that so much interest should centre in his life and works as
+we actually find to exist. This interest may be mainly ascribed to his
+surroundings. Like Rogers, he shines by reflected light. He numbered
+among his friends or acquaintances, in varied shades of intimacy, almost
+every celebrity in British literature during two generations. To these
+were added leading representatives of the fine arts, music and the
+drama&mdash;Mendelssohn, Lawrence, Landseer, Turner, the Kembles, Edmund
+Kean. It was a notable visiting-list that embraced all the Lake school,
+Byron, Dickens, Thackeray, the two Lyttons, Scott, Sydney Smith and a
+number of others as incongruous in time and tenets. Good taste,
+amiability, the means and disposition to entertain, would have sufficed,
+with the aid of less of intellectual and imaginative power than Procter
+possessed, to keep him in good companionship with men like these, who
+felt the need of a common professional rallying-point in the metropolis.
+He avoided collision with any of their crotchets and idiosyncrasies. His
+antipathies were few, and what he had he was generally successful in
+repressing. De Quincey seems to have been lowest in his estimation. The
+genial Elia and the fiery Hazlitt divided his especial and lasting
+attachment.</p>
+
+<p>Procter was always haunted by the very natural impression that he owed
+to the world some use of the opportunities afforded him for the study of
+mind and character by such a concourse of leading men. But he failed to
+make even a move toward the discharge of that task until a short time
+before the close of his life. The results, slight as they are, form
+perhaps the most interesting section of the book before us. It embraces
+short notices of Byron, Rogers, Crabbe, the three chief Lakers, Leigh
+Hunt, Hazlitt, Carlyle, Haydon, Campbell, Moore and a few others.
+Coleridge, we are told, had a "prodigious amount of miscellaneous
+reading" always at command, and forgot everything in the pleasure of
+hearing himself talk when he could secure an audience. Wordsworth's
+poverty at one period of his life is illustrated by his having been met
+emerging from a wood with a quantity of hazelnuts which he had gathered
+to eke out the scanty dinner of his family. Doubtless he had collected
+finer things than nuts, if less available for material sustenance.
+Wordsworth, breakfasting with Rogers, excused his being late by saying
+he had been detained by one of Coleridge's long monologues. He had
+called so early on Coleridge, he explained, because he was to dine with
+him that evening. "And," said Rogers, "you wanted to draw the sting out
+of him beforehand." Campbell was in society cautious, stiff and precise,
+like much of his verse, but was subject to occasional outbreaks,
+analogous to the "Battle of the Baltic" and "Ye Mariners of England."
+Crabbe resembled Moore in his passion for lords. Walter Scott was big,
+broad, easy and self-poised, like one of his own historical novels. He
+impressed Procter more than any of the rest as great, and consciously
+great. Leigh Hunt was "essentially a gentleman;" he "treated all people
+fairly, yet seldom or never looked up to any one with much respect;" and
+"his mind was feminine rather than manly, without intending to speak
+disrespectfully of his intellect."</p>
+
+<p>Part IV. of the book is devoted to selections from letters written to
+Procter. Jeffrey, Byron, Carlyle and Beddoes are the chief
+correspondents quoted. Those from Byron are strongly Byronesque, but
+give us no new points, unless in the high moral tone he assumes in
+defending <i>Don Juan</i>. That poem does, he avers, no injustice to the
+English aristocracy, which he maintains to have been at that time the
+most profligate in Europe. The prominent details of the queen's trial
+and others like it would "in no other country have been <i>publicly</i>
+tolerated a moment." Was it Byron's theory, then, that all kinds of
+morality are merely relative, and the outgrowth of local conditions?</p>
+
+<p>The materials at the command of the editor of this book were obviously
+very meagre. Yet it has undoubted value. If neither a corner-stone, a
+voussoir nor a capital, it has at least its place in the edifice which
+forms the literary history of the nineteenth century. Beyond that value
+it has merit as the simple record of a life enriched by the charms of
+poetry and elegant taste and the social and domestic charities.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Turkey. By James Baker, M.A., Lieutenant-Colonel Auxiliary
+Forces, formerly Eighth Hussars. New York: Henry Holt &amp; Co.</p></div>
+
+<p>The announcement of this book as "a companion volume to Wallace's
+<i>Russia</i>" provokes a comparison greatly to its disadvantage. The
+qualities most conspicuous in Mr. Wallace's work, thoroughness of
+exposition, skillful arrangement, breadth of view and mastery of
+details, are wholly wanting in Colonel Baker's <i>Turkey</i>. The information
+which it gives from the author's personal observation is fragmentary and
+disappointing; the matter gleaned from other sources is chiefly
+surplusage; the expressions of opinion indicate positiveness rather than
+keen insight or impartial judgment; and, what renders the contrast still
+more striking, the book as evidently owes its dimensions, if not its
+existence, to the immediate interest of the subject as Mr. Wallace's
+work was the slowly-ripened fruit of long and patient study, and its
+opportune appearance a fortuitous advantage that added little to its
+attractiveness. It is, however, no ground for condemning a book that it
+has been written to supply information for which there is a present
+demand; and if Colonel Baker had confined himself to telling us what he
+knew, and his publishers had refrained from exciting undue expectations,
+the contribution might have been accepted thankfully for what it was
+worth, without special complaint in regard to its deficiencies. About
+half the book is readable, and this includes some portions which,
+besides being interesting, derive a special value from the author's
+qualifications for speaking authoritatively on the points discussed in
+them. He traveled somewhat extensively in Bulgaria; he purchased and
+cultivated an estate in the neighborhood of Salonica, and was thus
+brought into those relations of landlord, employer and taxpayer which
+entail a certain familiarity with the workings of the administrative
+machinery and with the habits and feelings of the rural population; and,
+finally, as a soldier, he writes with full comprehension and
+intelligence on the military resources of the country and the prospects
+of the war which was seen to be inevitable when his book went to press.
+In reference to the last point, he even sketches a plan of defence which
+it seems not improbable may be that which the government will adopt, if
+its own collapse or the intervention of other powers does not bring the
+struggle to a speedier termination or an unforeseen issue. He considers
+the Danube with its defences as offering no obstacle of importance to
+the overwhelming forces preparing to cross it. The Balkan affords
+numerous passes which may be traversed at all seasons except in the
+depth of winter, and no points of defence that may not easily be turned.
+But after crossing this range the Russians will be more than three
+hundred miles from their base, and all their supplies will have to be
+brought over the mountains. Their numbers will have been so diminished
+by sickness and by the large detachments necessary for masking the
+fortresses in their rear, that out of the four hundred thousand with
+which Colonel Baker supposes them to open the campaign, they cannot be
+expected to operate with more than one hundred thousand south of the
+Balkan. They will still have a difficult country before them, and from
+Burgas, on the Black Sea, where Colonel Baker proposes the establishment
+of an entrenched camp, to be constantly supplied and reinforced by
+water-transport from Constantinople, their flanks may be harassed and
+their communications threatened, making it impossible for them to march
+on Adrianople before ridding themselves of this danger. "It may be
+argued," says Colonel Baker, "that this plan of defence would be giving
+over a large portion of the empire to Russian occupation, but the answer
+is, that Turkey, being in command of the Black Sea, could strangle all
+Russian commerce in those waters until that power released her grip of
+the Ottoman throat." But whatever be the merit or the feasibility of
+this plan, it presupposes not only a design on the part of Russia to
+advance upon Constantinople, which is doubtful, but a degree of energy
+in the Turkish government and military commanders which it is almost
+certain does not exist. The Ottoman power is to all appearance perishing
+of inanition, and the mere hastening of its dissolution through external
+shocks is not to be deprecated. But it is puerile to imagine that this
+will be the only or chief result of the war now going on, if not
+arrested by intervention in one form or another. In the delicate and
+complicated relations of the European states the dismemberment of one
+empire and the aggrandizement of another are not such changes as can
+occur without affecting the whole system, and that harmony of action
+which it was found impossible to secure as a means of averting war is
+not likely to show itself when some decisive catastrophe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> shall have
+developed the possibilities to be hoped or apprehended, brought
+conflicting interests into play and suggested new combinations. Whether
+a different course, with joint action, on the part of the powers that
+now affect neutrality would have led to a more satisfactory result, is
+itself a mere matter of speculation; but out of England few persons will
+be disposed to agree with Colonel Baker in putting on Russia the whole
+responsibility both of the war and of the events which are pleaded as
+the justification of it. While conceding the corruption, apathy and
+general incompetence of the Turkish government, he contends that
+oppression is the exception, not the rule, that the chief mischiefs have
+sprung directly from Russian intrigue, that the country has been making
+rapid progress in many ways, and that time alone might safely have been
+trusted to bring about all desirable reforms. So far as the general
+condition of the people is concerned, his statements are entitled to
+weight. But beyond the limits of his own experience his boldness in
+assertion will not incline the reader to accept him as a safe guide. His
+book would have left a far more favorable impression had he confined
+himself to the description of what he saw and the relation of his own
+adventures, leaving Turkish history and political speculations to
+writers of a different class.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><i>Books Received.</i></h2>
+
+
+<p>The Music Reader; or, The Practice and Principles of the Art, especially
+adapted to Vocal Music. For the use of Schools, Classes and Private
+Instruction. By Leopold Meignen and Wm. W. Keys. Philadelphia: W. H.
+Boner &amp; Co., Agts.</p>
+
+<p>Standard Facts and Figures; or, What you Do Know! What you Don't Know!!
+What you Want to Know!!! (Revised and enlarged edition.) Edited by A. G.
+Sullivan. New York: Morton &amp; Dumont.</p>
+
+<p>The Divine Order of the Universe, as interpreted by Emanuel Swedenborg;
+with especial relation to Modern Astronomy. By Rev. Augustus Clissold,
+M. A. London: Longmans, Green &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>From Traditional to Rational Faith; or, The Way I came from Baptist to
+Liberal Christianity. By R. Andrew Griffin. (Town-and-Country Series.)
+Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>The Life, Times and Character of Oliver Cromwell. (Half-Hour Series.) By
+the Right Honorable E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen, M. P. New York: Harper &amp;
+Bros.</p>
+
+<p>How to Teach according to Temperament and Mental Development; or,
+Phrenology in the School-room and the Family. By Nelson Sizer. New York:
+S. R. Wells &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Rise of the People and Growth of Parliament, 1215-1485: Epochs of
+English History. By James Rowley, M. A. (Harper's Half-Hour Series.) New
+York: Harper &amp; Bros.</p>
+
+<p>Imaginary Conversations. By Walter Savage Landor. (Fourth Series.)
+Dialogues of Literary Men, of Famous Women, etc. Boston: Roberts
+Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>Peru: Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the Land of the Incas, By
+E. George Squier, M. A., F. S. A. New York: Harper &amp; Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>A Winter Story. By Miss Peard, author of "The Rose Garden."
+(Town-and-Country Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>That Lass o' Lowrie's. By Frances Hodgson Burnett. Illustrated by Alfred
+Fredericks. New York: Scribner, Armstrong &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth. Edited, with Notes, by William J.
+Rolfe, A. M. New York: Harper &amp; Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>Aloys. By B. Auerbach. Translated by Charles T. Brooks. (Leisure-Hour
+Series.) New York: Henry Holt &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Steam Injectors: Their Theory and Use. From the French of M. L&eacute;on
+Pochet. New York: D. Van Nostrand.</p>
+
+<p>Academy Sketches, Exhibition of 1877. With Descriptive Notes by "Nemo."
+New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Nancy's Pilgrimage: A Story of Travel. By Virginia W. Johnson. New
+York: Harper &amp; Brothers.</p>
+
+<p>Mark Twain's Adhesive Scrap Book. By Samuel L. Clemens. New York: Slote,
+Woodman &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Transmission of Power by Wire Ropes. By Albert W. Stahl, M. E. New York:
+D. Van Nostrand.</p>
+
+<p>Dot and Dime. Two Characters in Ebony. By One who Knows all about them.
+Boston: Loring.</p>
+
+<p>Hours with Men and Books. By William Mathews, LL.D. Chicago: S. C.
+Griggs &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie Lang. By Alice Corkran. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry
+Holt &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p>Annual Report of the Chief Signal-Officer for 1876. Washington:
+Government Printing office.</p>
+
+<p>Will it Be? By Mrs. Helen J. Ford. (Loring's Tales of the Day.) Boston:
+Loring.</p>
+
+<p>My Lady-Help, and What she Taught me, By Mrs. Warren. Boston: Loring.</p>
+
+<p>A Modern Mephistopheles. (No-Name Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular
+Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 31750-h.htm or 31750-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/5/31750/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0001-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0001-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c9b0ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0001-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0005-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0005-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc311fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0005-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0008-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0008-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c712ee3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0008-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0009-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0009-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78cef9f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0009-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0010-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0010-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52c4709
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0010-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0011-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0011-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f69e3c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0011-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0012-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0012-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..831b073
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0012-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0015-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0015-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c942299
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0015-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0018-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0018-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..527d262
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0018-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0021-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0021-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a4456c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0021-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0024-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0024-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6d1b11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0024-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0025-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0025-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d6219b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0025-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0026-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0026-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97120af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0026-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0029-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0029-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f681916
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0029-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0030-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0030-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7dd89f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0030-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0033-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0033-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa5fee8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0033-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0035-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0035-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..91bfbfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0035-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0036-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0036-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e77f984
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0036-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0037-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0037-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee3bef5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0037-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0038-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0038-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ce10a23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0038-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0039-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0039-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3ccf70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0039-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0040-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0040-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..801241a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0040-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0041-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0041-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..880d43a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0041-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0042-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0042-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b66d340
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0042-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0044-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0044-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b8cbc0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0044-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image0045-1.jpg b/31750-h/images/image0045-1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35eef60
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image0045-1.jpg
diff --git a/31750-h/images/image32.jpg b/31750-h/images/image32.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fb4230
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750-h/images/image32.jpg
diff --git a/31750.txt b/31750.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6bada60
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8694 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature
+and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+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: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877.
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 23, 2010 [EBook #31750]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE
+
+OF
+
+POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.
+
+VOLUME XX.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PHILADELPHIA:
+
+J. B. LIPPINCOTT AND CO.
+
+1877.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by
+
+J.B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.,
+
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S PRESS,
+
+_Philadelphia_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                                        PAGE
+
+Abbeys and Castles                        _H. James, Jr._                434
+
+A Day's March through Finland             _David Ker_                    116
+
+A Few Letters                             _E. C. Hewitt_                 111
+
+A Great Day. From the Italian of Edmondo de Amicis                       340
+
+A Kentucky Duel                           _Will Wallace Harney_     578, 738
+
+A Law unto Herself                        _Rebecca Harding Davis_    39, 167,
+                                                          292, 464, 614, 719
+
+Alfred de Musset                          _Sarah B. Wister_              478
+
+Among the Kabyles (_Illustrated._)        _Edward C. Bruce_         265, 406
+
+A Month in Sicily (_Illustrated._)        _Alfred T. Bacon_              649
+
+An English Easter                         _Henry James, Jr._              50
+
+A Paduan Holiday (_Illustrated._)         _Charlotte Adams_              278
+
+A Portrait                                _Ita Aniol Prokop_             698
+
+A Summer Evening's Dream                  _Edward Bellamy_               320
+
+A Venetian of the Eighteenth Century      _H. M. Benson_                 347
+
+Baden and Allerheiligen (_Illustrated._)  _T. Adolphus Trollope_         535
+
+Brandywine, 1777                          _Howard M. Jenkins_            329
+
+Captured by Cossacks. (_Illustrated._) Extracts from
+  Letters of a French Officer in 1813     _Joseph Diss Debar_            684
+
+Chateau Courance                          _John V. Sears_                235
+
+Chester and the Dee (_Illustrated._)      _Lady Blanche Murphy_     393, 521
+
+Communism in the United States            _Austin Bierbower_             501
+
+Days of my Youth                          _M. T._                        712
+
+Down the Rhine (_Illustrated._)           _Lady Blanche Murphy_       9, 137
+
+Edinburgh Jottings (_Illustrated._)       _Alfred S. Gibbs_               28
+
+English Domestics and their Ways          _Olive Logan_                  758
+
+Folk-Lore of the Southern Negroes         _William Owens_                748
+
+"For Percival." (_Illustrated._)                               416, 546, 665
+
+In a Russian "Trakteer"                   _David Ker_                    247
+
+Irish Society in the Last Century         _Eliza Wilson_                 183
+
+Leonie Regnault:
+  A Study from French Life                _Mary E. Blair_                 61
+
+Little Lizay                              _Sarah Winter Kellogg_         442
+
+London at Midsummer                       _H. James, Jr._                603
+
+Madame Patterson-Bonaparte                                               309
+
+Ouida's Novels                            _Thomas Sergeant Perry_        732
+
+Our Blackbirds                            _Ernest Ingersoll_             376
+
+"Our Jook"                                _Henrietta H. Holdich_         494
+
+Primary and Secondary Education in France _C. H. Harding_                 69
+
+Some Last Words from Sainte-Beuve         _Sarah B. Wister_              104
+
+The Bass of the Potomac                   _W. Mackay Laffan_             455
+
+The Chef's Beefsteak                      _Virginia W. Johnson_          596
+
+The Church of St. Sophia                  _Hugh Craig_                   629
+
+The Doings and Goings-on of Hired Girls   _Mary Dean_                    589
+
+The Flight of a Princess                  _W. A. Baillie-Grohman_        566
+
+The Marquis of Lossie                     _George Macdonald_    81, 210, 355
+
+The New Soprano                           _Penn Shirley_                 249
+
+The Paris Cafes                           _Gilman C. Fisher_             202
+
+Verona. (_Illustrated._)                  _Sarah B. Wister_              155
+
+Vina's "Ole Man." (_Illustrated._)        _Lizzie W. Champney_           194
+
+
+LITERATURE OF THE DAY, comprising Reviews of the following Works:
+
+Avery, Benjamin Parke--Californian Pictures in Prose and Verse           775
+
+Baker, M. A., James--Turkey                                              135
+
+Burroughs, John--Birds and Poets                                         516
+
+Dodge, R. I.--The Plains of the Great West and their Inhabitants         262
+
+Doudan, X.--Melanges et Lettres                                          646
+
+Field, Marie E.--The Wings of Courage                                    776
+
+Gill, W. F.--The Life of Edgar Allan Poe                                 518
+
+Concourt, de, Edmond and Jules--Madame Gervaisais                        388
+
+Greville, Henry--Les Koumiassine                                         519
+
+Hoffman, Wickham--Camp, Court and Siege                                  261
+
+Kismet                                                                   392
+
+McCoan, J. C.--Egypt as it Is                                            774
+
+Mazade, de, Charles--The Life of Count Cavour                            772
+
+Migerka, Catherine--Briefe aus Philadelphia (1876) an eine Freundin      643
+
+Nimport                                                                  642
+
+Parkman, Francis--Count Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV         641
+
+Price, Major Sir Rose Lambart--The Two Americas                          132
+
+Procter, Bryan Waller (Barry Cornwall)--An Autobiographical Fragment
+    and Biographical Notes                                               133
+
+Reid, T. Wemyss--Charlotte Bronte                                        390
+
+Robinson, Leora B.--Patsy                                                776
+
+Sherwood, Mary Neal--Jack. From the French of Alphonse Daudet            645
+
+Squier, E. George--Peru                                                  259
+
+Synge, W. W. Follett--Olivia Raleigh                                     518
+
+Wheaton, Campbell--Six Sinners; or, School-Days in Bantam Valley         776
+
+
+OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP, comprising the following Articles:
+
+A Cheering Sign, 258; A Crying Evil, 771; A Day at the Paris
+Conservatoire, 512; A Missing Item, 770; A Neglected Branch of
+Philology, 385; Another Defunct Monopoly, 386; Artistic Jenkinsism, 640;
+Brigham Young and Mormonism, 514; Fernan Caballero, 761; Foreign Leaders
+in Russia and Turkey, 765; Francois Buloz, 382; Friend Abner in the
+North-West, 254; How shall we Call the Birds? 256; Katerfelto in Repose,
+387; "Les Naufrages de Calais," 637; Miridite Courtship, 253; Notes from
+Moscow, 509; Punching the Drinks, 130; Realistic Art, 639; Russian and
+Turkish Music, 636; The Coming Elections in France, 127; The Dead of
+Paris, 122; The Departure of the Imperial Guards, 768; The Education of
+Women in India, 515; The Modern French Novelists, 379; The
+Nautch-Dancers of India, 132; The Octroi, 763; The Religious Struggle at
+Geneva, 125; Von Moltke in Turkey, 129; Water-Lilies, 384.
+
+
+POETRY:
+
+A Wish                              _Henrietta R. Eliot_      308
+
+Fog                                 _Emma Lazarus_            207
+
+For Another                         _S. M. B. Piatt_          405
+
+From the Flats                      _Sidney Lanier_           115
+
+"God's Poor"                        _E. R. Champlin_          711
+
+Heine (Buch der Lieder)             _Charles Quiet_           354
+
+Selim                               _Annie Porter_            755
+
+Song                                _Oscar Laighton_          545
+
+Sven Duva. From the Swedish
+  of Johan Ludvig Runeberg          _C. Rosell_               611
+
+The Bee                             _Sidney Lanier_           493
+
+The Chrysalis of a Bookworm         _Maurice F. Egan_         463
+
+The Dream of St. Theresa            _Epes Sargent_            565
+
+The Elixir                          _Emma Lazarus_             60
+
+The Marsh                           _S. Weir Mitchell_        245
+
+The Sweetener                       _Mary B. Dodge_            49
+
+To Sleep                            _Emilie Poulsson_         201
+
+
+
+
+LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE
+
+OF
+
+_POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE_.
+
+JULY, 1877.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by J. B.
+LIPPINCOTT & CO., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at
+Washington.
+
+
+
+
+DOWN THE RHINE.
+
+THIRD PAPER.
+
+
+[Illustration: EVENING CONCERT AT WIESBADEN.]
+
+Wiesbaden (the "Meadow-Bath"), though an inland town, partakes of some
+of the Rhine characteristics, though even if it did not, its notoriety
+as a spa would be enough to make some mention of it necessary. Its
+promenade and Kurhaus, its society, evening concerts, alleys of
+beautiful plane trees, its frequent illuminations with Bengal lights,
+reddening the classic peristyles and fountains with which modern taste
+has decked the town, its airy Moorish pavilion over the springs, and
+its beautiful Greek chapel with fire-gilt domes, each surmounted by a
+double cross connected with the dome by gilt chains--a chapel built by
+the duke Adolph of Nassau in memory of his wife, Elizabeth Michaelovna,
+a Russian princess,--are things that almost every American traveler
+remembers, not to mention the Neroberger wine grown in the neighborhood.
+
+Schlangenbad, a less well-known bathing-place, is a favorite goal of
+Wiesbaden excursionists, for a path through dense beech woods leads from
+the stirring town to the quieter "woman's republic," where, before
+sovereigns in incognito came to patronize it, there had long been a
+monopoly of its charms by the wives and daughters of rich men, bankers,
+councilors, noblemen, etc., and also by a set of the higher clergy. The
+waters were famous for their sedative qualities, building up the nervous
+system, and, it is said, also beautifying the skin. Some credulous
+persons traced the name of the "Serpents' Bath" to the fact that snakes
+lurked in the springs and gave the waters their healing powers; but as
+the neighborhood abounds in a small harmless kind of reptile, this is
+the more obvious reason for the name. I spent a pleasant ten days at
+Schlangenbad twelve or thirteen years ago, when many of the German
+sovereigns preferred it for its quiet to the larger and noisier resorts,
+and remember with special pleasure meeting with fields of Scotch heather
+encircled by beech and chestnut woods, with ferny, rocky nooks such
+as--when it is in Germany that you find them--suggest fairies, and with
+a curious village church, just restored by a rich English Catholic,
+since dead, who lived in Brussels and devoted his fortune to religious
+purposes all over the world. This church was chiefly interesting as a
+specimen of what country churches were in the Middle Ages, having been
+restored in the style common to those days. It was entirely of stone,
+within as well as without, and I remember no painting on the walls. The
+"tabernacle," instead of being placed _on_ the altar, as is the custom
+in most churches now, and has been for two or three hundred years, was,
+according to the old German custom, a separate shrine, with a little
+tapering carved spire, placed in the corner of the choir, with a red
+lamp burning before it. Here, as in most of the Rhine neighborhoods, the
+people are mainly Catholics, but in places where summer guests of all
+nations and religions are gathered there is often a friendly arrangement
+by which the same building is used for the services of two or three
+faiths. There was, I think, one such at Schlangenbad, where Catholic,
+Lutheran and Anglican services were successively held every Sunday
+morning; and in another place, where a large Catholic church has since
+been built, the old church was divided down the middle of the nave by a
+wooden partition about the height of a man's head, and Catholic and
+Protestant had each a side permanently assigned to them for their
+services. This kind of practical toleration, probably in the beginning
+the result of poverty on both sides, but at any rate creditable to its
+practicers, was hardly to be found anywhere outside of Germany. I
+remember hearing of the sisters of one of the pope's German prelates,
+Monsignor Prince Hohenlohe, who were Lutherans, embroidering
+ecclesiastical vestments and altar-linen for their brother with as much
+delight as if he and they believed alike; and (though this is anything
+but praiseworthy, for it was prompted by policy and not by toleration)
+it was a custom of the smaller German princes to bring their daughters
+up in the vaguest belief in vital truths, in order that when they
+married they might become whatever their husbands happened to be,
+whether Lutheran, Anglican, Catholic or Greek. The events of the last
+few years, however, have changed all this, and religious strife is as
+energetic in Germany as it was at one time in Italy: people must take
+sides, and this outward, easy-going old life has disappeared before the
+novel kind of persecution sanctioned by the Falk laws. Some persons even
+think the present state of things traceable to that same toleration,
+leading, as it did in many cases, to lukewarmness and indifferentism in
+religion. Strange phases for a fanatical Germany to pass through, and a
+stranger commentary on the words of Saint Remigius to Clovis, the first
+Frankish Christian king: "Burn that which thou hast worshiped, and
+worship that which thou hast burnt"!
+
+[Illustration: PROMENADE AT WIESBADEN.]
+
+[Illustration: LUTHER'S HOUSE AT FRANKFORT.]
+
+Schwalbach is another of Wiesbaden's handmaidens--a pleasant, rather
+quiet spot, from which, if you please, you can follow the Main to the
+abode of sparkling hock or the vinehills of Hochheim, the property of
+the church which crowns the heights. This is at the entrance of the
+Roman-named Taunus Mountains, where there are bathing-places, ruined
+castles, ancient bridges, plenty of legends, and, above all, dark solemn
+old chestnut forests. But we have a long way to go, and must not linger
+on our road to the free imperial city of Frankfort, with its past
+history and present importance. Here too I have some personal
+remembrances, though hurried ones. The hotel itself--what a relief such
+hotels are from the modern ones with electric bells and elevators and
+fifteen stories!--was an old patrician house ample, roomy, dignified,
+and each room had some individuality, notwithstanding the needful amount
+of transformation from its old self. It was a dull, wet day when we
+arrived, and next morning we went to the cathedral, Pepin's foundation,
+of which I remember, however, less than of the great hall in the Roemer
+building where the Diets sat and where the "Golden Bull" is still
+kept--a hall now magnificently and appropriately frescoed with subjects
+from German history. Then the far-famed Judengasse, a street where the
+first Rothschild's mother lived till within a score of years ago, and
+where now, among the dark, crazy tenements, so delightful to the
+artist's eye, there glitters one of the most gorgeously-adorned
+synagogues in Europe. A change indeed from the times when Jews were
+hunted and hooted at in these proud, fanatical cities, which were not
+above robbing them and making use of them even while they jeered and
+persecuted! The great place in front of the emperor's hall was the
+appointed ground for tournaments, and as we lounge on we come to a queer
+house, with its lowest corner cut away and the oriel window above
+supported on one massive pillar: from that window tradition says that
+Luther addressed the people just before starting for Worms to meet the
+Diet. This other house has a more modern look: it is Goethe's
+birthplace, the house where the noted housekeeper and accomplished
+hostess, "_Frau Rath_"--or "Madam Councilor," as she was
+called--gathered round her those stately parties that are special to the
+great free cities of olden trade. Frankfort has not lost her reputation
+in this line: her merchants and civic functionaries still form an
+aristocracy, callings as well as fortunes are hereditary, and if some
+modern elements have crept in, they have not yet superseded the old. The
+regattas and boating-parties on the Main remind one of the stir on the
+banks of the Thames between Richmond and Twickenham, where so many "city
+men" have lovely retired homes; but Frankfort has its Kew Gardens also,
+where tropical flora, tree-ferns and palms, in immense conservatories,
+make perpetual summer, while the Zoological Garden and the bands that
+play there are another point of attraction. Still, I think one more
+willingly seeks the older parts--the Ashtree Gate, with its machicolated
+tower and turrets, the only remnants of the fortifications; the old
+cemetery, where Goethe's mother is buried; and the old bridge over the
+Main, with the statue of Charlemagne bearing the globe of empire in his
+hand, which an innocent countryman from the neighboring village of
+Sachsenhausen mistook for the man who invented the _Aeppelwei_, a
+favorite drink of Frankfort. This bridge has another curiosity--a gilt
+cock on an iron rod, commemorating the usual legend of the "first living
+thing" sent across to cheat the devil, who had extorted such a promise
+from the architect. But although the ancient remains are attractive, we
+must not forget the Bethmann Museum, with its treasure of Dannecker's
+_Ariadne_, and the Staedel Art Institute, both the legacies of
+public-spirited merchants to their native town; the Bourse, where a
+business hardly second to any in London is done; and the memory of so
+many great minds of modern times--Boerne, Brentano, Bettina von Arnim,
+Feurbach, Savigny, Schlossen, etc. The Roman remains at Oberuerzel in the
+neighborhood ought to have a chapter to themselves, forming as they do a
+miniature Pompeii, but the Rhine and its best scenery calls us away from
+its great tributary, and we already begin to feel the witchery which a
+popular poet has expressed in these lines, supposed to be a warning from
+a father to a wandering son:
+
+  To the Rhine, to the Rhine! go not to the Rhine! My son, I counsel thee well;
+  For there life is too sweet and too fine, and every breath is a spell.
+
+  The nixie calls to thee out of the flood; and if thou her smiles shouldst see,
+  And the Lorelei, with her pale cold lips, then 'tis all over with thee:
+
+  For bewitched and delighted, yet seized with fear,
+        Thy home is forgotten and mourners weep here.
+
+[Illustration: JOHN WOLFGANG GOETHE.]
+
+[Illustration: GOETHE'S BIRTHPLACE.]
+
+This is the Rheingau, the most beautiful valley of rocks and bed of
+rapids which occurs during the whole course of the river--the region
+most crowded with legends and castles, and most frequented by strangers
+by railroad and steamboat. The right bank is at first the only one that
+calls for attention, dotted as it is with townlets, each nestled in
+orchards, gardens and vineyards, with a church and steeple, and terraces
+of odd, over-hanging houses; little stone arbors trellised with
+grapevines; great crosses and statues of patron saints in the warm,
+soft-toned red sandstone of the country; fishermen's taverns, with most
+of the business done outside under the trees or vine-covered piazza;
+little, busy wharfs and works, aping joyfully the bustle of large
+seaports, and succeeding in miniature; and perhaps a burgomaster's
+garden, where that portly and pleasant functionary does not disdain to
+keep a tavern and serve his customers himself, as at Walluf.
+
+[Illustration: JUDENGASSE AT FRANKFORT.]
+
+At Rauenthal (a "valley" placed on high hills) we find the last new
+claimant to the supremacy among Rhine wines, at least since the Paris
+Exhibition, when the medal of honor was awarded to Rauenthal, which has
+ended in bringing many hundreds of curious connoisseurs to test the
+merits of the grape where it grows. Now comes a whole host of villages
+on either side of the river, famous through their wines--Steinberg, the
+"golden beaker;" Scharfenstein, whose namesake castle was the refuge of
+the warlike archbishops of Mayence, the stumbling-block of the
+archbishops of Treves, called "the Lion of Luxembourg," and lastly the
+prey of the terrible Swedes, who in German stories play the part of
+Cossacks and Bashi-Bazouks; Marcobrunnen, with its classical-looking
+ruin of a fountain hidden among vineyards; Hattenheim, Hallgarten,
+Graefenberg; and Eberbach, formerly an abbey, known for its "cabinet"
+wine, the hall-mark of those times, and its legends of Saint Bernard,
+for whom a boar ploughed a circle with his tusks to show the spot where
+the saint should build a monastery, and afterward tossed great stones
+thither for the foundation, while angels helped to build the upper
+walls. Eberbach is rather deserted than ruined. It was a good deal
+shattered in the Peasants' War at the time of the Reformation, when the
+insurgents emptied the huge cask in which the whole of the Steinberg
+wine-harvest was stored; but since 1803, when it was made over to the
+neighboring wine-growers, it has remained pretty well unharmed; and its
+twelfth-century chapel, full of monuments; its refectory, now the
+press-house, with its columns and capitals nearly perfect; its cellars,
+where every year more wine is given away than is stored--_i. e._, all
+that which is not "cabinet-worthy"--as in the tulip-mania, when
+thousands of roots were thrown away as worthless, which yet had all the
+natural merit of lovely coloring and form,--make Eberbach well worth
+seeing.
+
+Next comes Johannisberg, with its vineyards dating back to the tenth
+century, when Abbot Rabanus of Fulda cultivated the grape and Archbishop
+Ruthard of Mayence built a monastery, dedicated to Saint John the
+Baptist, which for centuries was owner and guardian of the most noted
+Rhine vintage; but abuses within and wars without have made an end of
+this state of things, and Albert of Brandenburg's raid on the monks'
+cellars has been more steadily supplemented by the pressure of milder
+but no less efficient means of destruction. When Napoleon saw this tract
+of land and offered it to General Kellermann, who had admired its
+beauty, he is said to have received a worthy and a bold answer. "I thank
+Your Majesty," said the marshal, "but the receiver is as bad as the
+thief." The less scrupulous Metternich became its owner, giving for it,
+however, an equivalent of arable and wood land. The Metternich who for
+years was Austrian ambassador at Paris during the brilliant time of the
+Second Empire, and whose fast and eccentric wife daily astonished
+society, is now owner of the peerless Johannisberg vineyards, among
+which is his country-house. Goethe's friends, the Lade and Brentano
+families, lived in this neighborhood, and the historian Nicholas Vogt
+lies buried in the Metternich chapel, though his heart, by his special
+desire, is laid in a silver casket within the rocks of Bingen, with a
+little iron cross marking the spot. At Geisenheim we are near two
+convents which as early as 1468 had printing-presses in active use, and
+the mysterious square tower of Ruedesheim, which brings all sorts of
+suppositions to our mind, though the beauty of the wayside crosses, the
+tall gabled roofs, the crumbling walls, the fantastically-shaped rocks,
+getting higher and higher on each side, and the perpetual winding of the
+river, are enough to keep the eye fixed on the mere landscape. At the
+windows, balconies and arbors sit pretty, ruddy girls waving their
+handkerchiefs to the unknown "men and brethren" on board the steamers
+and the trains; and well they may, if this be a good omen, for here is
+the "Iron Gate" of the Rhine, and the water bubbles and froths in
+miniature whirlpools as we near what is called the "Bingen Hole."
+
+As we have passed the mouth of the Stein and recollected the rhyme of
+Schroedter in his _King Wine's Triumph_--
+
+[Illustration: RUeDESHEIM.]
+
+    Wreathed in vines and crowned with reeds comes the Rhine,
+    And at his side with merry dance comes the Main,
+    While the third with his steady steps is all of stone (Stein),
+    And both Main and Stein are prime ministers to the Lord Rhine--
+
+so now we peer up one of the clefts in the rocks and see the Nahe
+ploughing its way along to meet the great river. Just commanding the
+mouth is Klopp Castle, and not far warlike Bingen, a rich burgher-city,
+plundered and half destroyed in every war from those of the fourteenth
+to those of the eighteenth century, while Klopp too claims to have been
+battered and bruised even in the thirteenth century, but is better known
+as the scene of the emperor Henry IV.'s betrayal to the Church
+authorities by his son, who treacherously invited him to visit him here
+by night. A little way up the river Nahe, where the character of the
+people changes from the lightheartedness of the Rhine proper to a
+steadiness and earnestness somewhat in keeping with the sterner and more
+mountainous aspect of the country, is Kreuznach, (or "Crossnear"), now a
+bathing-resort, and once a village founded by the first Christian
+missionaries round the first cross under whose shadow they preached the
+gospel. Sponheim Castle, once the abode of Trithemius, or Abbot John of
+Trittenheim, a famous chronicler and scholar, reminds us of the brave
+butcher of Kreuznach, Michael Mort, whose faithfulness to his lawful
+lord when beset by pretenders to his title in his own family won for the
+guild of butchers certain privileges which they have retained ever
+since; and Rheingrafenstein, where the ruins are hardly distinguishable
+from the tossed masses of porphyry rock on which they are perched, tells
+us the story of Boos von Waldeck's wager with the lord of the castle to
+drink a courier's top-boot full of Rhine wine at one draught--a feat
+which he is said to have successfully accomplished, making himself
+surely a fit companion for Odin in Walhalla; but his reward on earth was
+more substantial, for he won thereby the village of Hueffelsheim and all
+its belongings. In a less romantic situation stands Ebernburg, so called
+from the boar which during a siege the hungry but indomitable defenders
+of the castle paraded again and again before the eyes of the besiegers,
+whose only hope lay in starving out the garrison--the property of the
+Sickengens, whose ancestor Franz played a prominent part in the
+Reformation and gave an asylum in these very halls to Bucer,
+Melanchthon, Oecolampadius and Ulrich von Huetten. Past Rothenfels,
+where towering rocks hem in the stream, like the Wye banks in Arthur's
+country on the Welsh borders; the scattered stones of Disibodenberg, the
+Irish missionary's namesake convent, which afterward passed into the
+hands of the Cistercians; Dhaum Castle and Oberstein Church, these two
+with their legends, the first accounting for a bas-relief in the great
+hall representing an ape rocking a child, the heir of the house, in the
+depths of a forest, and giving him an apple to eat,--we come to a
+cluster of castles which are the classical ground of the Nahe Valley.
+The very rocks seem not only crowned but honeycombed with buildings:
+chapels stand on jutting crags; houses, heaped as it were one on the
+roof of the other, climb up their rough sides, and the roofs themselves
+have taken their cue from the rocks, and have three or four irregular
+lines of tiny windows ridging and bulging them out.
+
+Taking boat again at Bingen, and getting safely through the Rhine "Hell
+Gate," the "Hole," whose terrors seem as poetic as those of the Lorelei,
+we pass the famous Mouse Tower, and opposite it the ruined Ehrenfels;
+Assmanshausen, with its dark-colored wine and its custom of a May or
+Pentecost feast, when thousands of merry Rhinelanders spend the day in
+the woods, dancing, drinking and singing, baskets outspread in modified
+and dainty pic-nic fashion, torches lit at night and bands playing or
+mighty choruses resounding through the woods; St. Clement's Chapel, just
+curtained from the river by a grove of old poplars and overshadowed by a
+ruin with a hundred eyes (or windows), while among the thickly-planted,
+crooked crosses of its churchyard old peasant-women and children run or
+totter, the first telling their beads, the second gathering flowers,
+and none perhaps remembering that the chapel was built by the survivors
+of the families of the robber-knights of Rheinstein (one of the
+loveliest of Rhine ruins) and three other confederated castles, whom
+Rudolph of Habsburg treated, rightly enough, according to the Lynch law
+of his time. They were hung wherever found, but their pious relations
+did not forget to bury them and atone for them as seemingly as might be.
+
+[Illustration: BINGEN, FROM KLOPP CASTLE.]
+
+Bacharach, if it were not famed in Germany for its wine, according to
+the old rhyme declaring that
+
+    At Wuerzburg on the Stein,
+    At Hochheim on the Main,
+    At Bacharach on the Rhine.
+    There grows the best of wine,
+
+would or ought to be noticed for its wealth of old houses and its many
+architectural beauties, from the ruined (or rather unfinished) chapel of
+St. Werner, now a wine-press house, bowered in trees and surrounded by a
+later growth of crosses and tombstones, to the meanest little house
+crowding its neighbor that it may bathe its doorstep in the
+river--houses that when their owners built and patched them from
+generation to generation little dreamt that they would stand and draw
+the artist's eye when the castle was in ruins. Similarly, the many
+serious historical incidents that took place in Bacharach have lived
+less long in the memory of inhabitants and visitors than the love-story
+connected with the ruined castle--that of Agnes, the daughter of the
+count of this place and niece of the great Barbarossa, whom her father
+shut up here with her mother to be out of the way of her lover, Henry of
+Braunschweig. The latter, a Guelph (while the count was a Ghibelline),
+managed, however, to defeat the father's plans: the mother helped the
+lovers, and a priest was smuggled into the castle to perform the
+marriage, which the father, after a useless outburst of rage, wisely
+acknowledged as valid. The coloring of many buildings in this part of
+the Rhineland is very beautiful, the red sandstone of the neighborhood
+being one of the most picturesque of building materials. Statues and
+crosses, as well as churches and castles, are built of it, and even the
+rocks have so appealed by their formation to the imagination of the
+people that at Schoenburg we meet with a legend of seven sisters,
+daughters of that family whose hero, Marshal Schomburg, the friend and
+right hand of William of Orange, lies buried in Westminster Abbey,
+honored as marshal of France, peer of Great Britain and grandee of
+Portugal, and who, for their haughtiness toward their lovers, were
+turned into seven rocks, through part of which now runs the irreverent
+steam-engine, ploughing through the tunnel that cuts off a corner where
+the river bends again.
+
+Now comes the gray rock where, as all the world knows, the Lorelei
+lives, but as that graceful myth is familiar to all, we will hurry past
+the mermaid's home, where so much salmon used to be caught that the very
+servants of the neighboring monastery of St. Goar were forbidden to eat
+salmon more than three times a week, to go and take a glimpse of St.
+Goarshausen, with its convent founded in the seventh century by one of
+the first Celtic missionaries, and its legend of the spider who remedied
+the carelessness of the brother cellarer when he left the bung out of
+Charlemagne's great wine-cask by quickly spinning across the opening a
+web thick enough to stop the flow of wine. A curious relic of olden time
+and humor is shown in the cellar--an iron collar, grim-looking, but more
+innocent than its looks, for it was used only to pin the unwary visitor
+to the wall while a choice between a "baptism" of water and wine was
+given him. The custom dates back to Charlemagne's time. Those who,
+thinking to choose the least evil of the two, gave their voice for the
+water, had an ample and unexpected shower-bath, while the wine-drinkers
+were crowned with some tinseled wreath and given a large tankard to
+empty. On the heights above the convent stood the "Cat" watching the
+"Mouse" on the opposite bank above Wellmich, the two names commemorating
+an insolent message sent by Count John III. of the castle of
+Neu-Katzellenbogen to Archbishop Kuno of Falkenstein, the builder of the
+castle of Thurnberg, "that he greeted him and hoped he would take good
+care of his mouse, that his (John's) cat might not eat it up." And now
+we pass a chain of castles, ruins and villages; rocks with such names as
+the Prince's Head; lead, copper and silver works, with all the activity
+of modern life, stuck on like a puppet-show to the background of a
+solemn old picture, a rocky, solitary island, "The Two Brothers," the
+twin castles of Liebenstein and Sternberg, the same which Bulwer has
+immortalized in his _Pilgrims of the Rhine_, and at their feet, close to
+the shore, a modern-looking building, the former Redemptorist convent of
+Bornhofen. As we step out there is a rude quay, four large old trees and
+a wall with a pinnacled niche, and then we meet a boatful of pilgrims
+with their banners, for this is one of the shrines that are still
+frequented, notwithstanding many difficulties--notwithstanding that the
+priests were driven out of the convent some time ago, and that the place
+is in lay hands; not, however, unfriendly hands, for a Catholic German
+nobleman, married to a Scotch woman, bought the house and church, and
+endeavored, as under the shield of "private property," to preserve it
+for the use of the Catholic population of the neighborhood. Last summer
+an English Catholic family rented the house, and a comfortable home was
+established in the large, bare building attached to the church, where is
+still kept the _Gnadenbild_, or "Grace image," which is the object of
+the pilgrimage--a figure of the Blessed Virgin holding her dead Son upon
+her knees. These English tenants brought a private chaplain with them,
+but, despite their privileges as English subjects, I believe there was
+some trouble with the government authorities. However, they had mass
+said for them at first in the church on weekdays. A priest from Camp,
+the neighboring post-town, was allowed to come once in a week to say
+mass for the people, but with locked doors, and on other days the
+service was also held in the same way, though a few of the
+country-people always managed to get in quietly before the doors were
+shut. On Sundays mass was said for the strangers and their household
+only in a little oratory up in the attics, which had a window looking
+into the church near the roof of the chancel. One of them describes "our
+drawing-room in the corner of the top floor, overlooking the river," and
+"our life ... studying German, reading and writing in the morning, dining
+early, walking out in the evening, tea-supper when we come home....
+There are such pretty walks in the ravines and hills, in woods and
+vineyards, and to the castles above and higher hills beyond! We brought
+one man and a maid, who do not know German, and found two German
+servants in the house, who do everything.... It is curious how cheaply
+we live here; the German cook left here does everything for us, and we
+are saying she makes us much better soups and omelettes and souffles
+than any London cook." Now, as these three things happen to be special
+tests of a cook's skill, this praise from an Englishman should somewhat
+rebuke travelers who can find no word too vile for "German cookery."
+
+[Illustration: RHEINGRAFENSTEIN.]
+
+The time of the yearly pilgrimage came round during the stay of these
+strangers, "and pilgrims came from Coblenz, a four hours' walk (in
+mid-August and the temperature constantly in the nineties), on the
+opposite side of the river, singing and chanting as they came, and
+crossed the river here in boats. High mass was at half-past nine (in the
+morning) and benediction at half-past one, immediately after which they
+returned in boats down the stream much more quickly. The day before was
+a more local pilgrimage: mass and benediction were at eight, but
+pilgrims came about all the morning." Later on, when the great heat had
+brought "premature autumn tints to the trees and burnt up the grass,"
+the English family made some excursions in the neighborhood, and in one
+place they came to a "forest and a large tract of tall trees," but this
+was exceptional, as the soil is not deep enough to grow large timber,
+and the woods are chiefly low underwood. The grapes were small, and on
+the 22d of August they tasted the first plateful at Stolzenfels, an old
+castle restored by the queen-dowager of Prussia, and now the property of
+the empress of Germany. "The view from it is lovely up and down the
+river, and the situation splendid--about four hundred feet above the
+river, with high wooded hills behind, just opposite the Lahn where it
+falls into the Rhine." Wolfgang Mueller describes Stolzenfels as a
+beautiful specimen of the old German style, with a broad smooth road
+leading up over drawbridges and moats, with mullioned windows and
+machicolated towers, and an artistic open staircase intersected by three
+pointed arches, and looking into an inner courtyard, with a fountain
+surrounded by broad-leaved tropical water-plants. The sight of a
+combination of antique dignity with correct modern taste is a delight so
+seldom experienced that it is worth while dwelling on this pleasant fact
+as brought out in the restoration of Stolzenfels, the "Proud Rock." And
+that the Rhinelanders are proud of their river is no wonder when
+strangers can talk about it thus: "The Rhine is a river which grows
+upon you, living in a pretty part of its course:... its less beauteous
+parts have their own attractions to the natives, and its beauties,
+perhaps exaggerated, unfold greatly the more you explore them, not to be
+seen by a rushing tourist up and down the stream by rail or by boat, but
+sought out and contemplated from its heights and windings.... In fact,
+the pretty part of its course is from Bingen to Bonn. Here we are in a
+wonderfully winding gorge, containing nearly all its picturesque old
+castles, uninterrupted by any flat. The stream is rapid enough, four
+miles an hour or more--not equal to the Rhone at Geneva, but like that
+river in France. One does not wonder at the Germans being enthusiastic
+over their river, as the Romans were over the yellow Tiber."
+
+[Illustration: MOUSE-TOWER (OR BISHOP HATTO'S TOWER) AND EHRENFELS.]
+
+[Illustration: THE LORELEI ROCK.]
+
+Other excursions were made by the Bornhofen visitors, one up a hill on
+the opposite side, over sixteen hundred feet high, whence a fine distant
+view of the Mosel Valley was seen, and one also to the church of St.
+Apollinaris, at Remagen, at some distance down the river, where are
+"some fine frescoes by German artists covering the whole interior of
+the church. One artist painted four or five large ones of the
+Crucifixion, Resurrection and other events relating to the life of Our
+Lord; a second several of the life of St. Apollinaris, and two others
+some of Our Lady and various saints, one set being patron saints of the
+founder's children, whom I think we saw at Baden--Carl Egon, Count
+Fuerstenberg-Stammheim.... The family-house stands close to the church,
+or one of his houses, and seems to have been made into a Franciscan
+convent: the monks are now banished and the church deserted, a _custode_
+(guardian) in charge. We went one day to Limburg to see the bishop of
+this diocese, a dear old man who only speaks German, so E---- and
+C---- carried on all the conversation. The cathedral is a fine old Norman
+building with seven towers: it is undergoing restoration, and the
+remains of old frescoes under the whitewash are the ground-work of
+renewed ones. Where an old bit is perfect enough it is left."
+
+[Illustration: A STREET IN LIMBURG.]
+
+Camp, a mile from Bornhofen, is an insignificant place enough, but
+claiming to have been a Roman camp, and having an old convent as
+picturesque as those of far-famed and much-visited towns. The same
+irregular windows, roofed turrets springing up by the side of tall
+gables, a corner-shrine of Our Lady and Child, with vines and ivy making
+a niche for it, mossy steps, a broken wall with trailing vines and steep
+stone-roofed recess, probably an old niche,--such is a sketch of what
+would make a thoroughly good picture; but in this land there are so many
+such that one grows too familiar with them to care for the sight. Nearly
+opposite is Boppard, a busy ancient town, with a parish church beautiful
+enough for a cathedral--St. Severin's church, with carved choir-stalls
+and a double nave--and the old Benedictine monastery for women, now a
+cold-water cure establishment. Boppard has its legend of a shadowy
+Templar and a faithless bridegroom challenged by the former, who turned
+out to be the forsaken bride herself; but of these legends, one so like
+the other, this part of the Rhine is full. The next winding of the
+stream shows us Oberspay, with a romantic tavern, carved pillars
+supporting a windowed porch, and a sprawling kind of roof; the "King's
+Stool," a modern restoration of the mediaeval pulpit or platform of stone
+supported by pillars, with eighteen steps and a circumference of forty
+ells, where the Rhenish prince-archbishops met to choose the temporal
+sovereigns who were in part their vassals; Oberlahnstein, a town famous
+for its possession in perfect repair of the ancient fortifications;
+Lahneck, now a private residence, once the property of the Templars;
+Stolzenfels, of which we have anticipated a glimpse; the island of
+Oberwoerth, with an old convent of St. Magdalen, and in the distance
+frowning Ehrenbreitstein, the fortress of Coblenz.
+
+Turning up the course of the Lahn, we get to the neighborhood of a small
+but famous bathing-place, Ems, the cradle of the Franco-Prussian war,
+where the house in which Emperor William lodged is now shown as an
+historic memento, and effaces the interest due to the old gambling
+Kursaal. The English chapel, a beautiful small stone building already
+ivied; the old synagogue, a plain whitewashed building, where the
+service is conducted in an orthodox but not very attractive manner; the
+pretty fern- and heather-covered woods, through which you ride on
+donkeyback; the gardens, where a Parisian-dressed crowd airs itself late
+in the afternoon; all the well-known adjuncts of a spa, and the most
+delightful baths I ever saw, where in clean little chambers you step
+down three steps into an ample marble basin sunk in the floor, and may
+almost fancy yourself a luxurious Roman of the days of Diocletian,--such
+is Ems. But its environs are full of wider interest. There is Castle
+Schaumburg, where for twenty years the archduke Stephen of Austria,
+palatine of Hungary, led a useful and retired life, making his house as
+orderly and seemly as an English manor-house, and more interesting to
+the strangers, whose visits he encouraged, by the collections of
+minerals, plants, shells and stuffed animals and the miniature
+zoological and botanical gardens which he kept up and often added to. I
+spent a day there thirteen years ago, ten years before he died, lamented
+by his poor neighbors, to whom he was a visible providence. Another
+house of great interest is the old Stein mansion in the little town of
+Nassau, the home of the upright and patriotic minister of that name,
+whose memory is a household word in Germany. The present house is a
+comfortable modern one--a _chateau_ in the French sense of the word--but
+the old shattered tower above the town is the cradle of the family. At
+the village of Fruecht is the family-vault and the great man's monument,
+a modern Gothic canopy, somewhat bald and characterless, but bearing a
+fine statue of Stein by Schwanthaler, and an inscription in praise of
+the "unbending son of bowed-down Fatherland." He came of a good stock,
+for thus runs his father's funeral inscription, in five alliterative
+German rhymes. I can give it but lamely:
+
+    His nay was nay, and steady,
+    His yea was yea, and ready:
+    Of his promise ever mindful,
+    His lips his conscience ne'er belied,
+    And his word was bond and seal.
+
+Stein was born in the house where he retired to spend his last years in
+study: his grave and pious nature is shown in the mottoes with which he
+adorned his home: "A tower of strength is our God" over the house-door,
+and in his library, above his books and busts and gathering of
+life-memorials, "Confidence in God, singleness of mind and
+righteousness." His contemporaries called him, in a play upon his name
+which, as such things go, was not bad, "The foundation-_stone_ of right,
+the stumbling-_stone_ of the wicked, and the precious _stone_ of
+Germany." Arnstein and its old convent, now occupied by a solitary
+priest: Balduinenstein and its rough-hewn, cyclopean-looking ruin,
+standing over the mossy picturesque water-mill; the marble-quarries near
+Schaumburg, worked by convicts; Diez and its conglomeration of houses
+like a puzzle endowed with life,--are all on the way to Limburg, the
+episcopal town, old and tortuous, sleepy and alluring, with its shady
+streets, its cathedral of St. George and its monument of the
+lion-hearted Conrad or Kuno, surnamed Shortbold (Kurzbold), a nephew of
+Emperor Conrad, a genuine woman-hater, a man of giant strength but
+dwarfish height, who is said to have once strangled a lion, and at
+another time sunk a boatful of men with one blow of his spear. The
+cathedral, the same visited by our Bornhofen friends, has other
+treasures--carved stalls and a magnificent image of Our Lord of the
+sixteenth century, a Gothic baptismal font and a richly-sculptured
+tabernacle, as well as a much older image of _St. George and the
+Dragon_, supposed by some to refer to the legendary existence of
+monsters in the days when Limburg was heathen. Some such idea seems also
+not to have been remote from the fancy of the mediaeval sculptor who
+adorned the brave Conrad's monument with such elaborately monstrous
+figures: it was evidently no lack of skill and delicacy that dictated
+such a choice of supporters, for the figure of the hero is lifelike,
+dignified and faithful to the minute description of his features and
+stature left us by his chronicler, while the beauty of the leaf-border
+of the slab and of the capitals of the short pillars is such as to
+excite the envy of our best modern carvers.
+
+[Illustration: CONRAD'S MONUMENT, LIMBURG CATHEDRAL.]
+
+                              LADY BLANCHE MURPHY.
+
+
+
+
+EDINBURGH JOTTINGS.
+
+
+Whenever Scott's landau went up the Canongate, his coachman knew without
+special instructions that the pace must be a walk; and no funeral, says
+Lockhart, ever moved more slowly, for wherever the great enthusiast
+might turn his gaze there was recalled to his mind some tradition of
+blood and mystery at which his eye would sparkle and his cheek glow. How
+by the force of his genius he inoculated the world with his enthusiasm
+about the semi-savage Scotia of the past is a well-known story:
+thousands of tourists, more or less struck with the Scott madness,
+yearly wander through the streets of old Edinburgh; and although within
+the quarter of a century since Sir Walter's death many memorials of the
+past have been swept away under the pressure of utility or necessity,
+the Old Town still poses remarkably well, and, gathering her rags and
+tatters about her, contrives to keep up a strikingly picturesque
+appearance.
+
+[Illustration: THE CASTLE AND ALLAN RAMSAY'S HOUSE.]
+
+The Old Town of Edinburgh is built upon a wedge-shaped hill, the Castle
+occupying the highest point, the head of the wedge, and the town
+extending along the crest, which slopes gradually down toward the east,
+to Holyrood Palace in the plain. Lawnmarket, High street and Canongate
+now form one continuous street, which, running along the crest of the
+hill, may be considered as the backbone of the town, with wynds and
+closes radiating on each side like the spines of the vertebrae. The
+closes are courts, culs-de-sac--the wynds, thoroughfares. These
+streets--courts where, in the past, lived the nobility and gentry of
+Edinburgh--are now, for the most part, given up to squalor and misery,
+and look like stage-scenes perpetually "set" for melodramatic horrors.
+The late Dr. Thomas Guthrie, whose parish included a large portion of
+this Egypt, used often to illustrate his eloquence with graphic
+word-pictures suggested by his experiences in these dark places. "The
+unfurnished floor," he writes, "the begrimed and naked walls, the
+stifling, sickening atmosphere, the patched and dusty window--through
+which a sunbeam, like hope, is faintly stealing--the ragged,
+hunger-bitten and sad-faced children, the ruffian man, the heap of straw
+where some wretched mother in muttering dreams sleeps off last night's
+debauch or lies unshrouded and uncoffined in the ghastliness of a
+hopeless death, are sad scenes. We have often looked on them, and they
+appear all the sadder for the restless play of fancy excited by some
+vestiges of a fresco-painting that still looks out from the foul and
+broken plaster, the massive marble rising over the cold and cracked
+hearthstone, an elaborately-carved cornice too high for shivering cold
+to pull it down for fuel, some stucco flowers or fruit yet pendent on
+the crumbling ceiling. Fancy, kindled by these, calls up the gay scenes
+and actors of other days, when beauty, elegance and fashion graced these
+lonely halls, and plenty smoked on groaning tables, and where these few
+cinders, gathered from the city dustheap, are feebly smouldering,
+hospitable fires roared up the chimney."
+
+[Illustration: OLD EDINBURGH BY NIGHT.]
+
+These houses are built upon the "flat" system, some of the better ones
+having a court in the centre like French houses, and turrets at the
+corners for the circular staircases connecting the different flats.
+Fires and improvements are rapidly sweeping them away, and the traveler
+regrets or not their disappearance, according as his views may be
+sentimental or sanitarian. They are truly ill adapted to modern ideas of
+hygiene, or to those cunning modern devices which sometimes poison their
+very inventors. While we may smile at our ancestors' free and easy way
+of pitching things out of the window, we should at least remember that
+they knew nothing of the modern plague of sewer-gas stealing its
+insidious way into the apparently best-regulated households. But without
+entering upon the vexed question of hygiene, the fact is that where
+there is no reason for propping up a tottering roof except that it once
+sheltered some bloody, cattle-stealing chieftain of the Border,
+utilitarian sentiments carry the day; nor ought any enthusiast to deny
+that the heart-shaped figure on the High street pavement, marking the
+spot where the Heart of Mid Lothian once stood, is a more cheerful sight
+than would be presented by the foul walls of that romantic jail.
+
+[Illustration: RIDDLE'S CLOSE, WHERE HUME COMMENCED HIS "HISTORY OF
+ENGLAND."]
+
+The modes of life in old Edinburgh have been amply illustrated by many
+writers. Among the novel-writers, Scott and Miss Ferrier have especially
+dwelt upon them. The tavern-haunting habits of the gentlemen are
+pleasantly depicted in the "high jinks" in _Guy Mannering_, and the
+depth of potations may be estimated by Burns's "Song of the Whistle." As
+to the ladies, we should not have found their assemblies very hilarious,
+where partners for the dance were obtained by drawing tickets, and the
+lucky or unlucky swain danced one solemn minuet with his lady, and was
+not expected to quit her side during the evening--
+
+    Through a long night to watch fair Delia's will,
+    The same dull swain was at her elbow still.
+
+The huge stack of buildings called James's Court is associated with the
+names of Boswell and of Hume. Half of it has been destroyed by fire,
+and precisely that half in which these two worthies once dwelt, but
+there is quite enough of it left to show what a grim monster it was,
+and, for that matter, still is. In Boswell's time it was a fine thing to
+have a flat in James's Court. Here Boswell was living when Dr. Johnson
+came to visit him. Boswell, having received a note from Johnson
+announcing his arrival, hastened to the inn, where he found the great
+man had just thrown his lemonade out of the window, and had nearly
+knocked down the waiter for sweetening the said lemonade without the aid
+of the sugar-tongs.
+
+"Mr. Johnson and I walked arm-in-arm up the High street," says Boswell,
+"to my house in James's Court: it was a dusky night: I could not prevent
+his being assailed by the evening effluvia of Edinburgh. As we marched
+slowly along he grumbled in my ear, 'I smell you in the dark.'"
+
+Mrs. Boswell had never seen Johnson before, and was by no means charmed
+with him, as Johnson was not slow to discover. In a matrimonial aside
+she whispered to her husband, "I have seen many a bear led by a man, but
+I never before saw a man led by a bear." No doubt her provocations were
+great, and she wins the compassionate sympathy of all good housekeepers
+when they read of Ursa Major brightening up the candles by turning the
+melted wax out on the carpet.
+
+Many years after this, but while Boswell was still living in James's
+Court, a lad named Francis Jeffrey one night helped to carry the great
+biographer home--a circumstance in the life of a gentleman much more of
+an every-day or every-night affair at that time than at present. The
+next day Boswell patted the lad on the head, and kindly added, "If you
+go on as you have begun, you may live to be a Bozzy yourself yet."
+
+The stranger who enters what is apparently the ground-floor of one of
+these houses on the north side of High street is often surprised to find
+himself, without having gone up stairs, looking from a fourth-story
+window in the rear. This is due to the steep slope on which the houses
+stand, and gives them the command of a beautiful view, including the New
+Town, and extending across the Firth of Forth to the varied shores of
+Fife. From his flat in James's Court we find David Hume, after his
+return from France, writing to Adam Smith, then busy at Kirkcaldy about
+the _Wealth of Nations_, "I am glad to have come within sight of you,
+and to have a view of Kirkcaldy from my windows."
+
+Another feature of these houses is the little cells designed for
+oratories or praying-closets, to which the master of the house was
+supposed to retire for his devotions, in literal accordance with the
+gospel injunction. David Hume's flat had two of these, for the spiritual
+was relatively better cared for than the temporal in those days: plenty
+of praying-closets, but _no drains_! This difficulty was got over by
+making it lawful for householders, after ten o'clock at night, to throw
+superfluous material out of the window--a cheerful outlook for Boswell
+and others being "carried home"!
+
+[Illustration: BUCCLEUGH PLACE, WHERE THE "EDINBURGH REVIEW" WAS
+PROJECTED.]
+
+[Illustration: COLLEGE WYND, WHERE SCOTT WAS BORN.]
+
+At the bottom of Byre's Close a house is pointed out where Oliver
+Cromwell stayed, and had the advantage of contemplating from its lofty
+roof the fleet which awaited his orders in the Forth. The same house was
+once occupied by Bothwell, bishop of Orkney, and is associated with the
+memory of Anne, the bishop's daughter, whose sorrows are enbalmed in
+plaintive beauty in the old cradle-song:
+
+    Baloo,[A] my boy, lie still and sleep,
+    It grieves me sair to see thee weep:
+    If thou'lt be silent, I'll be glad;
+    Thy mourning makes my heart full sad.
+    Baloo, my boy, thy mother's joy,
+    Thy father bred me great annoy.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Baloo, my boy, weep not for me,
+    Whose greatest grief's for wranging thee,
+    Nor pity her deserved smart,
+    Who can blame none but her fond heart;
+    For too soon trusting latest finds
+    With fairest tongues are falsest minds.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    When he began to court my love,
+    And with his sugared words to move,
+    His tempting face and flutt'ring cheer
+    In time to me did not appear;
+    But now I see that cruel he
+    Cares neither for his babe nor me.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Baloo, my boy, thy father's fled,
+    When he the thriftless son has played:
+    Of vows and oaths forgetful, he
+    Preferred the wars to thee and me;
+    But now perhaps thy curse and mine
+    Makes him eat acorns with the swine.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    Nay, curse not him: perhaps now he,
+    Stung with remorse, is blessing thee;
+    Perhaps at death, for who can tell
+    But the great Judge of heaven and hell,
+    By some proud foe has struck the blow,
+    And laid the dear deceiver[B] low.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+    I wish I were into the bounds
+    Where he lies smother'd in his wounds,
+    Repeating, as he pants for air,
+    My name, whom once he call'd his fair.
+    No woman's yet so fiercely set
+    But she'll forgive, though not forget.
+        Baloo, Baloo, etc.
+
+[Illustration: ANCHOR CLOSE.]
+
+The tourist finds much to read, as he runs through old Edinburgh, in the
+mottoes on the house-fronts. These are mostly of a scriptural and devout
+character, such as: "Blissit.Be.God.In.Al.His.Giftis;" or,
+"Blissit.Be.The.Lord.In.His.Giftis.For.Nov.And.Ever." If he peeps into
+Anchor Close, where once was a famous tavern, he will find it entirely
+occupied by the buildings of the _Scotsman_ newspaper, but the
+mottoes have been carefully preserved and built into the walls.
+The first is, "The.Lord. Is.Only.My.Svport;" a little farther
+on, "O.Lord.In.The.Is.Al.My.Traist;" and over the door,
+"Lord.Be.Merciful.To.Me." On other houses he may read,
+"Feare.The.Lord.And.Depart.From.Evill;" "Faith.In.Chryst.Onlie.Savit;"
+"My.Hoip.Is.Chryst;" "What.Ever.Me.Befall.I.Thank.The.Lord.Of.All."
+There are also many in the Latin tongue, such as, "Lavs Vbique Deo;"
+"Nisi Dominvs Frvstra" (the City motto);
+
+    "Pax Intrantibvs,
+    Salvs Exevntibvs."
+
+Here is one in the vernacular:
+"Gif.Ve.Died.As.Ve.Sovld.Ve.Mycht.Haif.As.Ve.Vald;" which is translated,
+"If we did as we should, we might have as we would."
+
+[Illustration: JOHN KNOX'S STUDY.]
+
+Near the end of the High street, on the way to the Canongate, stands
+John Knox's house, which has been put in order and made a show-place.
+The exterior, from its exceedingly picturesque character, is more
+attractive than the interior. The house had originally belonged to the
+abbot of Dunfermline, and when taken by Knox a very snug little study
+was added, built of wood and projecting from the front, in accordance
+with an order from the magistrates, directing "with al diligence to make
+ane warm studye of dailles to the minister John Knox, within his
+hous, aboue the hall of the same, with light and wyndokis
+thereunto, and al uther necessaris." The motto of this house is
+"Lvfe.God.Abvfe.Al.And.Yi.Nychtbovr.As.Yi.Self." A curious image at one
+corner was long thought to represent Knox preaching, and probably still
+does so in the popular belief; but others now think it represents Moses.
+It is an old man kneeling, with one hand resting on a tablet, and with
+the other pointing up to a stone above him carved to resemble the sun,
+and having on its disk the name of the Deity in three languages:
+"[Greek: THEOS].Deus.God."
+
+Of the style of Knox's preaching, even when he was enfeebled by
+ill-health, one gets a good idea from the following passage in James
+Melville's diary: "And by the said Rickart and an other servant, lifted
+up to the pulpit whar he behovit to lean, at his first entrie; bot or he
+had done with his sermon, he was sa active and vigorous, that he was lyk
+to ding that pulpit in blads and flie out of it."
+
+[Illustration: ROOM IN WHICH KNOX DIED.]
+
+Passing on down Canongate, once the court suburb, we come to Moray
+House, the former residence of the earls of Moray, and at one time
+occupied by Cromwell. It is now used for a school, and is in much better
+preservation than many of its neighbors. At the very bottom of the
+Canongate, not far from Holyrood House, stands the White Horse Inn. The
+house has not been an inn for many years, but was chosen by Scott as the
+quarters of Captain Waverley: its builders probably thought little of
+beauty when they built it, yet squalor, dilapidation and decay have
+given it the elements of the picturesque, and the fact that Scott has
+mentioned it is sufficient to nerve the tourist to hold his nose and
+admire.
+
+A black, gaunt, forbidding-looking structure near at hand was once the
+residence of the dukes of Queensberry. Charles, the third duke, was born
+in it: it is his duchess, Lady Catherine Hyde, whose pranks are so
+frequently recorded in Horace Walpole's letters--"very clever, very
+whimsical, and just not mad." Their Graces did not often occupy their
+Scottish residences, but in 1729, the lord chamberlain having refused
+his license to Gay's play, _Polly_, a continuation of the _Beggar's
+Opera_, the duke and duchess took Gay's part so warmly as to leave the
+court and retire to Queensberry House, bringing the poet with them.
+
+[Illustration: WHITE HORSE INN.]
+
+The duchess was much sung by the poets of her day, among them Prior, who
+is now so little read that we may recall a few of his once well-known
+verses:
+
+    "Shall I thumb holy books, confined
+      With Abigails forsaken?
+    Kitty's for other things designed,
+      Or I am much mistaken.
+    Must Lady Jenny frisk about,
+      And visit with her cousins?
+    At balls must she make all the rout,
+      And bring home hearts by dozens?
+
+    "What has she better, pray, than I?
+      What hidden charms to boast,
+    That all mankind for her should die,
+      Whilst I am scarce a toast?
+    Dearest mamma, for once let me,
+      Unchained, my fortune try:
+    I'll have my earl as well as she,
+      Or know the reason why.
+
+    "I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score,
+      Make all her lovers fall:
+    They'll grieve I was not loosed before--
+      She, I was loosed at all."
+    Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way:
+      Kitty, at heart's desire,
+    Obtained the chariot for a day,
+      And set the world on fire!
+
+On the death of Duke Charles, Queensberry House came into the possession
+of his cousin, the earl of March, a singular man-about-town in London,
+known as "Old Q.:" he stripped it of all its ornaments, without and
+within, and sold it to the government for a barracks. It is now used as
+a house of refuge. On its gate are the following notices: "White-seam
+sewing neatly executed." "Applications for admission by the destitute
+any lawful day from 10 to 12." "Bread and soup supplied from 1 to 3,
+afternoon. Porridge supplied from 8 to 9, morning, 6 to 7, evening."
+"Night Refuge open at 7 P.M. No admission on Sundays." "No person
+allowed more than three nights' shelter in one month." Such are the
+mottoes that now adorn the house which sheltered Prior's Kitty.
+
+A striking object in the same vicinity is the Canongate Tolbooth, with
+pepper-box turrets and a clock projecting from the front on iron
+brackets, which have taken the place of the original curiously-carved
+oaken beams. Executions sometimes took place in front of this building,
+which led wags to find a grim joke in its motto: "Sic.Itvr.Ad.Astra." A
+more frequent place of execution was the Girth Cross, near the foot of
+the Canongate, which marked the limit of the right of sanctuary
+belonging to the abbey of Holyrood. At the Girth Cross, Lady Warriston
+was executed for the murder of her husband, which has been made the
+subject of many ballads:
+
+    My mother was an ill woman:
+      In fifteen years she married me.
+    I hadna wit to guide a man:
+      Alas! ill counsel guided me.
+
+    O Warriston! O Warriston!
+      I wish that ye may sink fire in:
+    I was but bare fifteen years auld
+      When first I entered your gates within.
+
+    I hadna been a month married,
+      Till my gude lord went to the sea:
+    I bare a bairn ere he came hame,
+      And set it on the nourice knee.
+
+    But it fell ance upon a day
+      That my gude lord return'd from sea:
+    Then I did dress in the best array,
+      As blythe as ony bird on tree.
+
+    I took my young son in my arms,
+      Likewise my nourice me forebye,
+    And I went down to yon shore-side,
+      My gude lord's vessel I might spy.
+
+    My lord he stood upon the deck,
+      I wyte he hail'd me courteouslie:
+    "Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay:
+      Wha'se aught that bairn on your knee?"
+
+    She turn'd her right and roundabout,
+      Says, "Why take ye sic dreads o' me?
+    Alas! I was too young married
+      To love another man but thee."
+
+    "Now hold your tongue, my lady gay:
+      Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me;
+    This bonny bairn is not mine;
+      You've loved another while I was on sea."
+
+    In discontent then hame she went,
+      And aye the tear did blin' her e'e:
+    Says, "Of this wretch I'll be revenged
+      For these harsh words he said to me."
+
+    She's counsel'd wi' her father's steward,
+      What way she cou'd revenged be:
+    Bad was the counsel then he gave:
+      It was to gar her gude lord dee.
+
+    The nourice took the deed in hand:
+      I wat she was well paid her fee:
+    She keist the knot, and the loop she ran
+      Which soon did gar this young lord dee.
+
+[Illustration: HOLYROOD AND BURNS'S MONUMENT.]
+
+Another version has:
+
+    The nurice she knet the knot,
+      And oh, she knet it sicker:
+    The ladie did gie it a twig,
+      Till it began to wicker.
+
+The murder was committed on the 2d of July, 1600, and with the speedy
+justice of that time the punishment followed on the 5th. The lady was
+sentenced to be "wooried at the stake and brint," but her relatives had
+influence enough to secure a modification of the sentence, so that she
+was beheaded by the "maiden," a form of guillotine introduced by the
+Regent Morton. The original sentence was executed upon the nurse, who
+had no powerful relatives.
+
+[Illustration: STONE ON WHICH THE COVENANT WAS SIGNED.]
+
+Directly opposite the Canongate Tolbooth is a very antiquated dwelling,
+with three gables to the street, which converses with the passer-by on
+envy and backbiting. It begins: "Hodie.Mihi.Cras.Tibi.Cur.Igitur.Curas"
+("To-day, mine; to-morrow, thine; why then care?"). As if premising an
+unsatisfactory answer, it continues: "Ut Tu Linguae Tuae, Sic Ego Mear.
+Aurium, Dominus Sum." ("As thou of thy tongue, so I of my ears, am
+lord"), and finally takes refuge in "Constanti Pectori Res Mortalium
+Umbra" ("To the steadfast heart the affairs of mortals are but
+shadows").
+
+In the plain at the foot of the Canongate stands Holyrood Abbey and
+Palace, which, with the exception of one wing containing Queen Mary's
+apartments, has been rebuilt within comparatively modern times. The
+abbey church is a crumbling ruin, although a power amid its decay, for
+it possesses still the right of sanctuary. This refuge offered by the
+Church was a softening and humanizing influence when private feuds were
+settled by the sword and the Far-West principle of death at sight
+generally prevailed: later on, it became an abuse, and gradually
+disappeared. The Holyrood sanctuary is the only one now existing in
+Great Britain, but is available for insolvent debtors only: it includes
+the precincts of the palace and the Queen's Park (five miles in
+circumference), but it contains no buildings except in that portion of
+the precincts extending from the palace to the foot of Canongate, about
+one hundred and thirty yards in a direct line. Within this limited
+district the debtor seeks his lodging, has the Queen's Park for his
+recreation, and on Sundays is free to go where he likes, as on that day
+he cannot be molested. It was a curious relic of old customs to read in
+Edinburgh newspapers in the year 1876 the following extract from a
+debtor's letter, in which he makes his terms with the sheriff: "However
+desirous I am to obey the order of the sheriff to attend my examination,
+I am sorry to be obliged to intimate that in consequence of the
+vindictive and oppressive proceedings of some of my creditors I cannot
+present myself in court at the diet fixed unless protection from
+personal diligence be granted. I will have much pleasure, however, in
+attending the court in the event of the sheriff granting a special
+warrant to bring me from the sanctuary, which warrant shall protect me
+against arrest for debt and other civil obligations while under
+examination, and on the way to and from the place of examination." The
+sheriff granted the warrant.
+
+From Holyrood we fancy the traveler next remounting the hill into the
+Old Town, and seeking out the churchyard of Greyfriars, whose
+monuments, full of interest to the student and the antiquary, are in
+themselves an epitome of Scottish history. The church has been ravaged
+by fire and rebuilt, so that it retains but little antiquity: the
+churchyard, on the other hand, has seen few changes except in the
+increase of its monuments as time has passed on.
+
+Here the Solemn League and Covenant was entered into. It was first read
+in the church, and agreed to by all there, and then handed to the crowd
+without, who signed it on the flat tombstones.
+
+Among the most conspicuous monuments in this churchyard are, on the one
+hand, that to those who died for their fidelity to this Covenant, and on
+the other the tomb of Sir George Mackenzie, king's advocate and public
+prosecutor of the Covenanters.
+
+On the Martyrs' Monument, as it is called, one reads: "From May 27th,
+1661, that the most noble marquis of Argyle was beheaded, until Feb.
+18th, 1688, there were executed in Edinburgh about one hundred noblemen,
+gentlemen, ministers and others: the most of them lie here.
+
+    "But as for them no cause was to be found
+    Worthy of death, but only they were sound,
+    Constant, and steadfast, zealous, witnessing
+    For the prerogatives of Christ their King,
+    Which truths were sealed by famous Guthrie's head."
+
+And so on.
+
+Dr. Thomas Guthrie, who, as we have seen, found much inspiration in the
+scenes of his daily walks, sought to trace his origin back to this
+Guthrie of the Martyrs' Monument. "I failed," he wrote, "yet am
+conscious that the idea and probability of this has had a happy
+influence on my public life, in determining me to contend and suffer, if
+need be, for the rights of Christ's crown and the liberties of His
+Church."
+
+The learning and accomplishments of Sir George Mackenzie were forgotten
+amid the religious animosities of his day, and he came down to posterity
+as the terror of nursery-maids and a portentous bugaboo under the name
+of Bloody Mackenzie. It is related that the boys of the town were in the
+habit of gathering at nightfall about his tomb and shouting in at the
+keyhole,
+
+    Bluidy Mackenzie, come out if ye daur:
+    Lift the sneck and draw the bar!
+
+after which they would scatter, as if they feared the tenant might take
+them at their word. The tomb is a handsome circular Roman temple, now
+much dilapidated by weather and soot, and so dark and sombre as to make
+it very uncanny in the gloaming, especially to one approaching it with
+the view of shouting "Bluidy Mackenzie" through the keyhole. This
+popular superstition was once turned to account by a youth under
+sentence of death for burglary. His friends aided him in escaping from
+prison, and provided him with a key to this mausoleum, where he passed
+six weeks in the tomb with the Bluidy Mackenzie--a situation of horror
+made tolerable only as a means of escape from death. Food was brought to
+him at night, and when the heat of pursuit was over he got to a vessel
+and out of the country.
+
+[Illustration: MACKENZIE'S TOMB.]
+
+The New Town of Edinburgh is separated from the Old Town by the ravine
+of the North Loch, over which are thrown the bridges by which the two
+towns are connected. The loch has been drained and is now occupied by
+the Public Gardens and by the railway. The New Town is substantially the
+work of the last half of the past century and the first half of the
+present one--a period which sought everywhere except at home for its
+architectural models. In some of the recent improvements in the Old Town
+very pretty effects have been produced by copying the better features of
+the ancient dwellings all around them, but the grandiloquent ideas of
+the Georgian era could not have been content with anything so simple and
+homespun as this. Its ideal was the cold and pompous, and it succeeded
+in giving to the New-Town streets that distant and repellent air of
+supreme self-satisfaction which makes the houses appear to say to the
+curious looker-on, "Seek no farther, for in us you find the perfectly
+correct thing." The embodiment of this spirit may be seen in the bronze
+statue of George IV. by Chantrey, in George street: the artist has
+caught the pert strut so familiar in the portraits, at sight of which
+one involuntarily exclaims, "Behold the royal swell!"
+
+[Illustration: THE NORTH BRIDGE.]
+
+But the New Town has two superb features, about whose merits all are
+agreed: we need hardly say these are Princes street and the Calton
+Hill. Princes street extends along the brow of the hill over-hanging the
+ravine which separates the two towns, and which is now occupied by
+public gardens: along their grassy slopes the eye wanders over trees and
+flowers to the great rock which o'ertops the greenery, bearing aloft the
+Castle as its crown, while from the Castle the Old Town, clustering
+along the height, streams away like a dark and deeply-colored train. The
+Calton Hill offers to the view a wide-spreading panorama. At our feet
+are the smoking chimneys of Auld Reekie, from which we gladly turn our
+eyes to the blue water and the shores of Fife, or seek out in the shadow
+of Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat the tottering arch of Holyrood
+Abbey. The hill is well dotted over,
+
+    All up and down and here and there,
+    With Lord-knows-what's of round and square;
+
+which on examination prove to be monuments to the great departed. A
+great change has taken place in the prevalent taste since they were
+erected, and they are not now pointed out to the stranger with fond
+pride, as in the past generation. The best one is that to Dugald
+Stewart, an adaptation, the guide-books say, of the Choragic Monument of
+Lysicrates. The all-pervading photograph has made it so familiar that it
+comes upon one as an old friend.
+
+The Burns Monument is a circular edifice with columns and a cupola. It
+has all the outward semblance of a tomb, so that one is rather startled
+to find it tenanted by a canny Scot--a live one--who presides with
+becomingly sepulchral gravity over a twopenny show of miscellaneous
+trumpery connected with Robert Burns. Everywhere in old Edinburgh we
+have seen going on the inevitable struggle between utility and
+sentiment: at Burns's Monument it ceases, and we conclude our ramble at
+this point, where the sentimentalist and the utilitarian shake hands,
+the former deeply sympathizing with the sentiment which led to the
+building of the monument, while the latter fondly admires the ingenuity
+which can turn even a cenotaph to account.
+
+                                    ALFRED S. GIBBS.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[A] Baloo is a lullaby, supposed to be from the French _Bas, la le
+loup_--"Lie still, the wolf is coming."
+
+[B] The "dear deceiver" was said to have been her cousin, the Hon.
+Alexander Erskine, brother to the earl of Mar. He came to a violent
+death, although not in the manner suggested in the ballad. While
+stationed at Dunglass Castle, engaged in collecting levies for the army
+of the Covenanters, an angry page thrust a red-hot poker into the
+powder-magazine, and blew him up with a number of others, so that there
+was "never bone nor hyre seen of them again."
+
+
+
+
+A LAW UNTO HERSELF.
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+On a raw, cloudy afternoon in early spring a few years ago a
+family-carriage was driven slowly down a lonely road in one of the
+outlying suburbs of Philadelphia, stopping at last in front of an
+apparently vacant house. This house was built of gray stone, and stood
+back from the road, surrounded by a few sombre pines and much rank
+shrubbery: shrubbery and trees, and the house itself, had long been
+abandoned to decay.
+
+"Heah am de place, sah," said the footman, opening the carriage-door.
+
+An old gentleman in shabby clothes, embellished dramatically by a red
+necktie, an empty sleeve pinned to his breast, sprang out briskly; a
+lady followed, and stood beside him: then a younger man, his head
+muffled in a close fur cap, a yellow shawl wrapped about his neck,
+looked feebly out of the window. His face, which a pair of pale,
+unkindled eyes had never lighted since he was born, had been incomplete
+of meaning in his best days, and long illness had only emphasized its
+weakness. He half rose, sat down again, stared uncertainly at the house,
+yawned nervously, quite indifferent to the fact that the lady stood
+waiting his pleasure. His money and his bodily sufferings--for he was
+weighted heavily with both--were quite enough, in his view, to give him
+the right to engross the common air and the service of other men and
+women. Indeed, a certain indomitable conceit thrust itself into view in
+his snub nose and retreating chin, which made it highly probable that if
+he had been a stout day-laborer in the road yonder, he would have been
+just as complacent as now, and have patronized his fellows in the ditch.
+
+"Will you take my arm, William?" said the old man waiting in the road.
+"This is the house."
+
+"No. I have half a mind to drop the whole matter. Why should I drag out
+the secrets of the grave? God knows, I shall find them out soon enough!"
+
+"Just so. Precisely. It's a miserable business for this April day. Now,
+I don't want to advise, but shall we drive out on the Wissahickon and
+fish a bit? You'll catch a perch, and Jane shall broil it over the
+coals, eh?"
+
+"Oh, of course I'm going through with it," scowling and blinking through
+his eye-glasses. "But we are ten minutes before the time. I can't sit in
+a draughty room waiting. Tell David to drive slowly down the road until
+four, Captain Swendon."
+
+"Certainly, certainly," with the nervous conciliatory haste of a man
+long used to being snubbed.--"You hear Mr. Laidley, David?--We'll
+arrange it in this way, then. Miss Fleming and I will stroll down the
+road, William, until the time is up.--No, Jane," as his daughter was
+going to leave the carriage. "Stay with your cousin." The captain was
+his peremptory self again. Like every man conscious of his own
+inability, he asserted himself by incessant managing and meddling for
+his neighbors.
+
+The carriage jolted down the rutted road. The little man inside tossed
+on the well-padded cushions, and moaned and puffed spasmodically at his
+cigar.
+
+Buff and David, stiff in green and gold on the box, nodded significantly
+at each other. "He's nigh unto de end," said Buff. "De gates of glory am
+creakin' foh him."
+
+"Creakin', shore nuff. But 'bout de glory I'm not so shore. Yoh see, I
+knows," rubbing his gray whiskers with the end of the whip. "I have him
+in charge. Mass' Swendon gib orders: 'Yoh stick by him, Dave.' 'S got no
+friends: 's got no backbone. Why, wid a twinge ob toothache he squirms
+like an eel in de fire--swears to make de debbil turn pale. It'll be an
+awful sight when Death gits a holt on him. But I'll stick."
+
+Captain Swendon and Miss Fleming, left alone under the pines, both
+turned and looked at the house as if it were an open grave.
+
+"So it is here the dead are to come back?" said the captain with a
+feebly-jocular giggle. "We'll go down the road a bit. 'Pon my soul, the
+atmosphere here is ghastly."
+
+They struck into the meadows, sauntered through a strip of woodland
+where the sparrows were chirping in the thin green boughs overhead, and,
+crossing some newly-ploughed fields, came suddenly upon a row of
+contract-houses, bold, upright in the mud, aggressively new and genteel.
+They were tricked out with thin marble facings and steps. A drug-shop
+glittered already at one end of the block, and a milliner's furbelowed
+window closed the other with a red-lettered sign, which might have
+served as a motto for the whole: "Here you buy your dollar's worth of
+fashion for your dime of cash."
+
+"Ah!" cried the captain, "no ghostly work here!--the last place where
+one would look for any miraculous stoppage of the laws of Nature."
+
+"Stoppage, you should say, of the social laws of 'gents' and their
+ladies, which are much more inexorable," said his companion. "Oh I know
+them!" glancing in at the windows, as she tramped through the yellow
+mud, with keen, amused eyes. "I know just what life must be in one of
+these houses--the starving music-teacher on one side of you, and the
+soapboiler on the other: the wretched small servant going the rounds of
+the block to whiten the steps every evening, while the mistresses sit
+within in cotton lace and sleazy silks, tinkling on the piano, or
+counting up the greasy passbook from the grocer's. Imagine such a life
+broken in upon by a soul from the other world!"
+
+"Yet souls go out from it into the other world. And I've known good
+women who wore cheap finery and aped gentility. Of course," with a
+sudden gusty energy, "_I_ don't endorse that sort of thing; and I don't
+believe the dead will come back to-day. Don't mistake me," shaking his
+head. The captain was always gusty and emphatic. His high-beaked,
+quick-glancing face and owlish eyes were ready to punctuate other men's
+thoughts with an incessant exclamation-point to bring out their true
+meaning. Since he was a boy he had known that he was born a
+drill-sergeant and the rest of mankind raw recruits. "Now, there's
+something terribly pathetic to me," he said, "in this whole expedition
+of ours. The idea of poor Will in his last days trying to catch a
+glimpse of the country to which he is going!"
+
+Cornelia Fleming nodded, and let the subject drop. She never wasted her
+time by peering into death or religion. She belonged to this world, and
+she knew it. A wise racer keeps to the course for which he has been
+trained, and never ventures into the quagmires beyond. She stopped
+beside a tiny yard where a magnolia tree spread its bare stalks and dull
+white flowers over the fence, and stood on tiptoe to break a bud. The
+owner of the house, an old man with a box of carpenter's tools in his
+hand, opened the door at the moment. She nodded brightly to him. "I am
+robbing you, sir. For a sick friend yonder," she said.
+
+He came down quickly and loaded her with flowers, thinking he had never
+heard a voice as peculiar and pleasant. The captain, a little behind,
+eyed her critically from head to foot, his mouth drawn up for a
+meditative whistle, as she stood on tiptoe, her arm stretched up among
+the creamy buds. The loose sleeve fell back: the arm was round and
+white.
+
+"Very good! ve-ry good!" the whistle meant; "and I know the points of a
+fine woman as well as any of these young fellows."
+
+Two young fellows, coming up, lingered to glance at the jimp waist and
+finely-turned ankle, with a shrug to each other when, passing by, they
+saw her homely face.
+
+The captain gallantly relieved her of her flowers, and paraded down the
+road, head up, elbows well out, as he used, thirty years ago, to escort
+pretty Virginie Morot in the French quartier of New Orleans. It was long
+since he had relished conversation as he did with this frank, generous
+creature. No coquetry about her! It was like talking to a clever,
+candid boy. Every man felt, in fact, with Cornelia, that she was only a
+younger brother. He liked the hearty grasp of her big white hand; he
+liked her honest, downright way of stating things, and her perfect
+indifference to her own undeniable ugliness. Now, any other woman of her
+age--thirty, eh? (with a quick critical glance)--would dye her hair: she
+never cared to hide the streaks of gray through the yellow. She had
+evidently long ago made up her mind that love and marriage were
+impossible for women as unprepossessing as she: she stepped freely up,
+therefore, to level ground with men, and struck hands and made
+friendships with them precisely as if she were one of themselves.
+
+The captain quite glowed with the fervor of this friendship as he
+marched along talking energetically. A certain subtle instinct of
+kinship between them seemed to him to trench upon the supernatural: it
+covered every thought and taste. She had a keen wit, she grasped his
+finest ideas: not even Jane laughed at his jokes more heartily. She
+appreciated his inventive ability: he was not sure that Jane did. There
+were topics, too, on which he could touch with this mature companion
+that were caviare to Jane. It was no such mighty matter if he blurted
+out an oath before her, as he used to do in the army. Something, indeed,
+in the very presence of the light, full figure keeping step with his
+own, in the heavy odor of the magnolias and the steady regard of the
+yellowish-brown eyes, revived within him an old self which belonged to
+those days in the army--a self which was not the man whom his daughter
+knew, by any means.
+
+They were talking at the time, as it happened, of his military
+experience: "I served under Scott in Mexico. Jane thinks me a hero, of
+course. But I confess to you that I enlisted, in the first place, to
+keep the wolf out of the house at home. I had spent our last dollar in
+manufacturing my patent scissors, and they--well, they wouldn't cut
+anything, unless--I used to suspect Atropos had borrowed them and meant
+to snip the thread for me, it was stretched so tightly just then."
+
+She looked gravely at his empty sleeve.
+
+The captain caught the glance, and coughed uncomfortably: "Oh, I did not
+lose that in the service, you understand. No such luck! Five days after
+I was discharged, after I had come out of every battle with a whole
+skin, I was on a railway-train going home. Collision: arm taken off at
+the elbow. If it had happened just one week earlier, I should have had a
+pension, and Jane--Well, Jane has had a rough time of it, Miss Fleming.
+But it was my luck!"
+
+They had returned through the woods, and were in sight again of the
+house standing darkly among the pines. Two gentlemen, pacing up and down
+the solitary road, came down the hill to meet them.
+
+"Tut! tut! It is that Virginia lawyer who has come up to get into
+practice here--Judge Rhodes. You know him, Miss Fleming. There's an end
+to our quiet talk. That fellow besieges a woman with his click-clack:
+never leaves a crack for a sensible man to edge in a word."
+
+Miss Fleming turned her honest eyes full on his for a moment, but did
+not speak. The captain's startled, foolish old heart throbbed with a
+feeling which he had not known since that day in the boat on the bayou
+when Virginie Morot first put her warm little hand in his. Virginie as a
+wife had been a trifle of a shrew. Love in the remembrance often has a
+bitter twang. But this was friendship! How sweet were the friendship and
+confidence of a woman! Pretty women of late years approached the captain
+in his fatherly capacity, much to his disrelish. A man need not have his
+gray hairs and rheumatism thrown in his teeth at every turn. Miss
+Fleming, now, saw beneath them: she saw what a gallant young fellow he
+was at heart. He looked down at her eagerly, but she was carelessly
+inspecting the judge and his companion.
+
+"Who is the fair-haired, natty little man?"
+
+"Oh! Phil Waring, a young fellow about town. Society man. Too fond of
+cards. Nice lad, but no experience: no companion for you, Miss Fleming."
+
+A vague, subtle change passed over her. It was no definable alteration
+in mind or body, yet a keener observer than the captain might have
+suspected a readjustment of both to suit some possible new relation.
+
+Mr. Waring and the judge joined them, and they all walked together
+toward the house, engrossed with their errand. Miss Fleming never
+expected from men the finical gallantry usually paid to young ladies,
+and even the gallant Virginian did not give it to her. The captain
+indeed, perceiving that she was occupied with Judge Rhodes, gave her up
+to his escort. "It is almost four. I will go down the road and find the
+carriage and William," he said, and left them.
+
+Judge Rhodes, as they drew near the house, regarded it darkly: "Decay!
+death and decay!" waving his pudgy red hands theatrically. "A gloomy
+gate indeed, through which the dead might well choose to return."
+
+"I should call it a badly-set stage for a poor melodrama," said Miss
+Fleming coolly.
+
+"But your character is so practical! You are fortunate in that." The
+judge, who was a stout, bald man, gazed at the house with vague
+abstraction and dilating nostrils. "Now, I am peculiarly susceptible to
+spiritual influences. I have been since a boy as sensitive to pain, to,
+ah--sympathies, to those, ah--electric cords, as Byron says, wherewith
+we're darkly bound, as--as a wind-harp. I really dread the effect upon
+myself of the revelations of to-day."
+
+Miss Fleming was silent. The judge, as she knew, was one of those shrewd
+common-sense men who, when lifted out of their place into the region of
+sentiment or romance, swagger and generally misconduct themselves, like
+a workman conscious of his ill-fitting Sunday finery.
+
+One or two carriages drove up to the gate and stopped.
+
+"Who are those people, Mr. Waring?" said the judge, dropping into his
+ordinary tone.
+
+Mr. Waring put on his eye-glasses. He knew everybody, and had as keen
+an eye and strong an antipathy for eccentric characters in conventional
+Philadelphia as a proof-reader for false type. "There is Dehr, the
+German homoeopath and Spiritualist," he said in a little mild voice,
+which oddly reminded Miss Fleming of the gurgling flow of new milk.
+"That woman marching before him is his wife."
+
+"I know," muttered the judge--"strong-minded. Most extraordinary women
+turn up every day here. This one lectures on hygiene. Mad, undoubtedly."
+
+"Oh no," said Waring--"very dull, good people, both of the Dehrs. Not
+two ideas to share between them. But there are a dozen tow-headed
+youngsters at home: they drive the old people into such out-of-the-way
+courses to scratch for a living. That man in white is the great
+Socialist, Schaus. The others are scientific fellows from New York and
+Boston."
+
+"I wish Van Ness was here," said the judge, nodding ponderously. "Van
+Ness is better known in Richmond than any other Philadelphian, sir. Most
+remarkable man. Science is well enough as far as it goes, but for clear
+intelligence, give me Pliny Van Ness."
+
+"No doubt," said Mr. Waring gravely. "Great reformer, I hear. Don't meet
+him in society. Of a new family."
+
+"Mr. Laidley objected to his coming," said Cornelia.
+
+"He did, eh? I'm astonished at that," said the judge. "I consider Van
+Ness--But Laidley had the right to object, of course. The meeting is one
+of the captain's famous schemes--to amuse Laidley. But they tell me that
+he knows he is dying, and has determined to bring a certain spirit out
+of the other world to ask an important question."
+
+"I should think," said Miss Fleming dryly, "Mr. Laidley would always
+require supernatural aid to make up his mind for him. After I talk to
+him I have the feeling that I have been handling froth. Not clean froth
+either." When Miss Fleming made the men and women about her the subjects
+of her skill in dissection, her voice took a neat incisive edge,
+suggestive of the touch of a scalpel. Little Mr. Waring, pulling his
+moustache thoughtfully, studied her for a moment without reply.
+
+"Hoh!" laughed the judge. "You have a keen eye! There can be no doubt,"
+suddenly sobering, "that Laidley has been uncommonly fast. But his blood
+is good--none better in Maryland. High-toned family, the Laidleys. Mr.
+Waring here could give you his life chapter by chapter if he would. But
+he would skip over the dirty bits as carefully as he is doing in the
+road."
+
+"Laidley's life is so very nearly over," suggested Mr. Waring quietly.
+
+There was an awkward silence of a moment.
+
+"Now, I can't understand," blustered the judge, "how Captain Swendon can
+nurse that fellow as tenderly as he is doing. I've got my share of
+humanity and forgiveness, and all that. But if any man had thrust my
+wife and child out of their property, as he has done, he had better have
+kept out of my sight, sir. I know all about them, you see, for two
+generations. Captain's wife was a New Orleans girl--Virginia Morot. It
+wasn't a matter of property: it was starvation. Poor little
+Virginie--pretty creature she was too!--would have been alive to-day,
+there's no doubt of it, if she could have had proper food and medicines.
+And there's his daughter! What kind of a life has she had for a girl
+with such blood in her veins? Why, if I should tell you the sum on which
+that child has supported herself and her father in Baltimore and here
+since her mother died, you wouldn't believe me. And Laidley did nothing
+for them. Not a penny! Under the circumstances it was a crime for him to
+be alive."
+
+"What were the circumstances?" asked Miss Fleming.
+
+"The property, you understand, was old Morot's--Morot of New Orleans.
+Virginie was his only child: she married Swendon, and her father came to
+live with them in Baltimore. The two men were at odds from the first
+day. Old Morot was a keen, pig-headed business-man: he knew nothing
+outside of the tobacco-trade; worked in the counting-house all day; his
+one idea of pleasure was to swill port and terrapin half the night.
+Swendon--Well, you know the captain. He was a brilliant young fellow in
+those days, full of ideas that never came to anything--an invention
+every month which was to make his fortune. They quarreled, of course the
+wife sided with her husband, and Morot, in a fit of rage, left the whole
+property to his nephew, Will Laidley. When he was on his deathbed,
+however, the old man relented and sent for Laidley. It was too late to
+alter the will, but he charged him to do justice to his daughter.
+Laidley has told me that much himself. But it never occurred to him that
+justice meant anything more than to keep the estate, and allow it at his
+death to revert to Jane and her father."
+
+"Well, well!" cried Mr. Waring hastily, "that cannot be far off now.
+Laidley is so nearly a thing of the past, judge, that we might afford to
+bury his faults with him, decently out of sight."
+
+"I can't put out of sight the years of want for Virginie and her child
+while he was throwing their money to the dogs in every gambling-hell in
+Baltimore and New York. Why, the story was so well known that when he
+came down to Richmond he was not recognized, sir! Not recognized. He
+felt it. Left the county like a whipped cur."
+
+"Yet, legally, the money was his own," remarked Cornelia.
+
+"Oh, legally, I grant you! But morally, now--" The judge had counted on
+Miss Fleming's sympathy in his story. Only the day before he had seen
+the tears come to her eyes over his hurt hound. He was disappointed that
+she took little Jane's misfortunes so coolly. "Of course this sort of
+crime is unappreciable in the courts. But society, Virginia society,
+knows how to deal with it."
+
+"I happen to know," said Waring, "that Laidley's will was made a year
+ago, leaving the whole property to Miss Swendon."
+
+"And he knows that in the mean time she is barely able to keep herself
+and her father alive. Pah-h!"
+
+"Really, Jane has quite a dramatic history, and you are precisely the
+person to tell it with effect, judge," said Miss Fleming, smiling
+good-humoredly, with that peculiar affable intonation which always numbs
+the hearer into a conviction that his too excessive emotion is being
+humored as the antics of an ill-disciplined child.
+
+The judge grew red.
+
+"Yes," continued Miss Fleming, her eyes upon him, "Jane _is_ pretty.
+Your zeal is excusable." The road was muddy at this point, and she
+passed on in front of them, picking her steps.
+
+"Damn it!" said the judge, "they're all alike! No woman can be just to a
+pretty face. I thought this girl had sense enough to lift her above such
+petty jealousy."
+
+"She is not jealous," said Waring, looking critically at her back as he
+arranged his thin tow-colored moustache. "She is an Arab among her own
+sex. It's a common type in this part of the country. She fraternizes
+with men, horses and Nature, and sneers at other women as she would at
+artificial flowers and perfumery. I don't know Miss Fleming, but I know
+her class very well."
+
+The Virginian, whose blood revolted at this censure of a lady, rushed to
+the rescue: "She's honest, at any rate. No mean feminine tricks about
+her. She's offensively truthful. And, after all, she's right: Swendon is
+a good-for-nothing, a well-born tramp; and Jane is hardly a subject for
+pity. She's a remarkably healthy girl; a little dull, but with more
+staying power in her than belongs to a dozen of those morbid,
+strong-minded women of yours in the North. I suppose I do let my
+sympathy run away with me."
+
+They joined Cornelia and entered the broken gate. The door of the house
+swung open at a touch. Within were bare halls and rooms covered with
+dust, the floors of which creaked drearily under their tread. Following
+the sound of stifled voices, they went up to a large upper chamber. The
+walls of this room were stained almost black; a thick carpet deadened
+the floor; the solid wooden shutters were barred and heavily curtained.
+They made their way to the farther end of the room, a little apart from
+a group of dark figures who talked together in whispers. Miss Fleming
+noticed a nervous trepidation in the manner of both men, and instantly
+became grave, as though she too were more deeply moved than she cared to
+show.
+
+The whispers ceased, and the silence was growing oppressive when steps
+were heard upon the stairs.
+
+"Hoh!" puffed the judge. "Here is Laidley at last."
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+It was not Laidley who entered, but Mrs. Combe, then the most-famous
+clairvoyant in the United States. According to statements of men both
+shrewd and honest she had lately succeeded in bringing the dead back to
+them in actual bodily presence. The voice was heard, then the spirit
+slowly grew into matter beside them. They could feel and see its warm
+flesh, its hair and clothing, and even while they held it it melted
+again into the impalpable air, and was gone. The account was attested by
+persons of such integrity and prominence as to command attention from
+scientific men. They knew, of course, that it was a trick, but the trick
+must be so well managed as to be worth the trouble of exposure. Hence,
+Mrs. Combe upon her entrance was received with silent, keen attention.
+
+She was a tall pillar-like woman, with some heavy drapery of black
+velvet or cloth about her: there were massive coils of coarse black
+hair, dead narrow eyes of the same color, a closely-shut jaw: no point
+of light in the figure, but a rope of unburnished gold about her neck.
+She stood with her hands dropped at her sides, immovable, while her
+husband, a greasy little manikin with a Jewish face, turned on the light
+and waved the attention of the audience to her: "This is Miriam Combe,
+the first person since the Witch of Endor who has succeeded in
+materializing the shpirits of the dead. Our meeting here to-day is under
+peculiar shircumstances. A zhentleman unknown to me and Mrs. Combe, but
+who, I am told, is near death, desires to recall the shpirit of a dead
+friend. Zhentlemans will reconize the fact that the thing we propose to
+do depends upon the states of minds and matters about us. If these
+elements are disturbed by unbelief or by too much light or noise when
+the soul shtruggling to return wants silence and darkness, why--it
+cannot make for itself a body--dat's all."
+
+"You compel belief, in a word, before you prove to us that we ought to
+believe," said a professor from a Baptist college in New Jersey, smiling
+blandly down upon him. "Scientifically--"
+
+"I knows noting of scientifics. I knows dat my wife hash de power to
+ashist de souls to clode demselves wid matter. I don't pretend to
+explain where she got dat power, I don't know what ish dat power: I only
+know she hash it. If zhentlemans will submit to the conditions, they
+shall zhoodge for demselves."
+
+"Now, the ignorance of this man impresses me favorably," said the
+professor to his friends. "He is evidently incapable of inventing a
+successful trick even of conjuring. If any great unknown force of Nature
+has chosen him or his wife as tools, we should not despise the
+manifestation because the tools are very gross matter. They are the
+steel wire charged with the lightning, perhaps."
+
+Dr. Dehr came forward and touched the motionless woman, shaking his head
+solemnly: "She is highly charged with electricity now, sir. The air is
+vital, as I might say, with spiritual presences. I have no doubt,
+gentlemen, before we part, that we shall see one of the most remarkable
+phenomena of the nineteenth century."
+
+"How well she poses!" whispered Miss Fleming to the judge. "But the
+stage-properties are bad: the velvet is cotton, and the gold
+brass-gilt."
+
+"Now, to me," said the judge emphatically, "there is a dreadful reality,
+a dead look, in her face. What Poe would have made of this scene! There
+was a man who could grapple with these supreme mysteries! No! that woman
+undoubtedly has learned the secret of life and of death. She can afford
+to be passive." The judge's very whisper was judicial, though pulpy.
+
+It was not possible that the woman should have heard them, yet a moment
+after she lifted her eyes and motioned slowly toward them.
+
+"God bless my soul, ma'am! You don't want me!" cried the judge.
+
+Waring half rose, laughing, but with cold chills down his backbone, and
+then dropped into his seat, relieved: "You are the chosen victim, Miss
+Fleming."
+
+Cornelia went up to the medium. She was confident the whole affair was a
+vulgar trick, but there was a stricture at her heart as if an iron hand
+had been laid upon it. The energy went out of her step, the blood from
+her face.
+
+The woman laid her hand on her arm. "I need you," she said in a deep
+voice. "You have great magnetic force: you can aid this soul to return
+to life if you will. Sit there." She placed both her hands lightly on
+Cornelia's forehead. Miss Fleming dropped into the seat: she could not
+have done otherwise.
+
+"Before we opens the seance," proceeded Combe, "zhentlemans can examine
+de cabinet and convince demselves dere is no trick."
+
+The cabinet was a light triangular structure of black walnut, about
+seven feet in height, placed in one corner of the room, though with an
+open space between it and the wall. It moved on casters: the door was on
+the side facing the audience. Miss Fleming observed with amusement that
+the seat given her removed her to the farthest distance from this door.
+
+"You will notish dat dere is absolutely noting in de cabinet but a
+chair--zhoost de walls and de floor and de chair. Miriam will sit there,
+and de door will be closed. When it opens you will see de embodied
+spirit beside her."
+
+"Hillo!" cried the judge, "what's this behind the cabinet?"
+
+"It is a window overlooking de garden: I had it boarded up to prevent
+you sushpecting me of trickery. But you sushpect mine boards, mein
+Gott! Exshamine dem, exshamine dem! Go outside."
+
+The judge did so. "They are screwed on honestly enough," he said to the
+spectators. "A ghost had need of a battering-ram to come through that
+window. It opens on an area thirty feet deep."
+
+The woman went into the cabinet and the door was closed. Steps were
+heard upon the stairs.
+
+"It ish de zhentleman who calls for de shpirit to appear," said Combe in
+a whisper.
+
+The door opened, and Laidley, supported by Captain Swendon, entered,
+giving a quick appealing look about him as he halted for a moment on the
+threshold. The dignity of approaching death was in his weak, ghastly
+face, and the judge rose involuntarily, just as he would have stood
+uncovered if a corpse had gone by. Laidley took the seat which the
+captain with his usual bluster placed for him opposite the door of the
+cabinet. Combe turned out the lights: the room was in absolute darkness.
+The judge moved uneasily near to Waring: "Don't laugh at me, Mr. Waring.
+But I really feel that there is a Presence in this room which is not
+human. I wish I had listened to my wife. She does not approve of this
+sort of thing at all: she thinks no good churchman should meddle with
+it. But there is _something_ in the room."
+
+"Yes, I am conscious of what you mean. But it is a physical force, not
+spiritual. Not electricity, either. It is something which has never
+affected my senses before. Whatever it is, it is the stock in trade of
+these people."
+
+They were ordered by Combe to join hands, and everybody obeyed excepting
+the captain's daughter, who stood unnoticed by one of the curtained
+windows.
+
+A profound silence followed, broken by a stifled sob from some
+over-nervous woman. The low roll of an organ filled the void and died.
+After that there was no complete sound but at intervals the silence took
+breath, spoke in a half-articulate wail, and was dumb again.
+
+Pale nebulous light shone in the cabinet and faded: then a single ray
+fell direct on Laidley's face. It stood out from the night around like
+a bas-relief--livid, commonplace, a presentment of every-day death. Each
+man present suddenly saw his own grave open, and the world beyond
+brought within reach through this insignificant man.
+
+"The spirits of many of the dead are present," said the sepulchral voice
+within the cabinet. "What do you ask of them?"
+
+Laidley's lips moved: he grasped the arms of his chair, half rose: then
+he fumbled mechanically in his pocket for his cigar-case, and not
+finding it sank back helplessly.
+
+"What do you ask of them? Their time is brief."
+
+"I'm a very ill man," he piped feebly: "the doctors give me no hope at
+all. I want advice about a certain matter before--before it's too late.
+It is a great wrong I have done that I want to set right."
+
+"Can any of the dead counsel you? Or do you summon one soul to appear?"
+
+"There is but one who knows."
+
+"Call for her, then."
+
+Laidley looked about him uncertainly: then he said in a hoarse whisper,
+"Virginie Morot!"
+
+The captain sprang to his feet: "My wife? No, no! for God's sake!"
+
+The light was swiftly drawn back into the cabinet and extinguished.
+After several minutes the voice was heard again: "The spirit summoned is
+present. But it has not the force to resume a material body unless the
+need is urgent. You must state the question you would have answered."
+
+"I must see Virginie here, in bodily presence, before I'll accept any
+answer," said Laidley obstinately. "I'll have no hocus-pocus by mediums
+or raps. If the dead know anything, she knows why I need her. I have had
+money to which she had a--well, a claim. I've not spent it, perhaps, in
+the best way. I have a mind now to atone for my mistake by leaving it to
+a charity where I know it will do great good."
+
+An amazed whistle broke through the darkness from the corner where the
+judge sat. The captain caught Laidley's shoulder. "William," he
+whispered, "surely you forget Jane."
+
+Laidley shook him off. "The money is my own," he said loudly, "to do
+with as I choose. But if Virginie can return from the dead, she shall
+decide for me."
+
+"It's enough to bring her back," muttered the judge. "Do you hear that?"
+thumping Waring's knee--"that miserable shrimp swindling her child in
+order to buy God's good-will for himself!"
+
+There was a prolonged silence. At last a voice was heard: "She will
+appear to you."
+
+The organ rolled heavily, low soft thunders of music rose and fell, a
+faint yellowish vapor stole out from under the cabinet and filled the
+darkness with a visible haze. Captain Swendon stumbled to his feet and
+went back to his daughter: "I can't bear it, child! I can't bear it!"
+dropping into a chair.
+
+She took his hand in her own, which were quite cool, and stroked and
+kissed it. But she did not speak nor take her eyes from the door of the
+cabinet.
+
+It opened. Within sat Miriam, immovable, her eyes closed. Beside her
+stood a shadowy luminous figure covered with a filmy veil. It moved
+forward into the room. So thick was the vapor that the figure itself
+appeared but a shade.
+
+Laidley stooped forward, his hands on his knees, his lips apart, his
+eyes dilated with terror.
+
+The veil slowly fell from the face of the spirit, and revealed,
+indistinctly as the negative of a photograph, a small thin woman with
+eager, restless eyes, and black hair rolled in puffs high on the head in
+the fashion of many years ago.
+
+"Virginie!" gasped Laidley.
+
+The captain shuddered, and hid his face. His daughter, with a quick step
+backward, threw aside the curtains and flung open the shutters. The
+broad daylight streamed in.
+
+Combe sprang toward her with an oath.
+
+The young girl held back the curtain steadily. "We need fresh air," she
+said smiling resolutely in his face.
+
+The rush of air, the daylight, the cheerful voice wakened the room as
+out of a vision of death. The men started to their feet; there was a
+tumult of voices and laughter; the materialized soul staggered back to
+reach the cabinet. The whole of the cheap trickery was bared: her hair
+was an ill-fitting wig, the chalk lay in patches on her face, the vapor
+of Hades was only salt burning in a dish: the boards removed from the
+window showed her snug hiding-place inside.
+
+Dr. Dehr's fury made itself heard above the confusion: "You have brought
+Spiritualism into disrepute by your infernal imposture!" clutching the
+poor wretch by the shoulder, while another intemperate disciple called
+loudly for the police. The woman began to sob, but did not utter a word.
+
+"Let her go, doctor," said Mr. Waring, coming up. "We paid to see a
+farce, and it was really a very nice bit of acting. This poor girl was
+hired, no doubt: she is only earning her living."
+
+"What has she done?" cried Dehr. "Spiritualism in Philadelphia never has
+attracted the class of investigators that are here to-day, and she--"
+shaking her viciously--"she's an impostor!"
+
+"Damnation! she's a woman!" wrenching his hand from her. She gave Waring
+a keen furtive glance, and drew quickly aside. While some of the seekers
+after truth demanded their five dollars back with New England obstinacy,
+and Combe chattered and screeched at them, she stood in the middle of
+the room, immovable, her sombre sallow face set, her tawdry
+stage-properties about her--the crown of false black hair, the sweeping
+drapery, the smoking dish with fumes of ghastly vapor.
+
+Mr. Waring went up to a short, broadly-built man in gray who had been
+seated in the background during the seance. "I did not know that you
+were in town or here, Mr. Neckart," he said with a certain marked
+respect. "That is not an unpicturesque figure, I think. She would serve
+as a study of Night, now--a stormy, muggy town-night, full of ooze and
+slime." Mr. Waring's manner and rhetoric were uneasy and deferential.
+Mr. Neckart was a power in a region quite outside of the little
+fastidious gossiping club of men and women whom he was wont to call the
+World.
+
+"Your Night, apparently, has little relish for the morning," he said.
+
+The woman's threatening eyes, in fact, were fixed on the tall fair girl,
+the captain's daughter, who stood in the window, busied with buttoning
+her father's overcoat and pinning his empty sleeve to his breast. She
+was looking up at him, and talking: the wind stirred her loose pale-gold
+hair; behind her branches of white roses from a vine outside thrust
+themselves in at the window: the birds chirped in the rustling maples
+beyond.
+
+"What a wonderful effect of light and color!" said Waring, who had
+lounged through studios and galleries enough to enable him to parcel out
+the world into so many bits of palette and brush-work. "Observe the
+atmosphere of sunshine and youth. Cabanel might paint the girl's face
+for the Dawn. Eyes of that profound blue appear to hold the light
+latent."
+
+"There seems to be unusual candor in them," said Mr. Neckart, glancing
+carelessly at Jane again, and drawing on his gloves. "A lack of
+shrewdness remarkable in an American woman."
+
+"The Swendons are Swedes by descent, you know. A little phlegm, a lack
+of passion, is to be expected, eh? Now, my own taste prefers the
+American type--features animated by a nimbler brain; as there, for
+example," looking toward Miss Fleming. "Ugly beyond apology. But there
+is a subtle attraction in it."
+
+"No doubt you are right. I really know very little about women,"
+indifferently. He nodded good-evening, glancing at his watch as he went
+out.
+
+The captain was conscious of some malignant influence at his back, and
+turning, saw the woman, who had gradually approached, and now stood
+still. He hastily stepped between her and his daughter: "Good God! Stand
+back, Jane! This woman is following you."
+
+"She looks as if she had the evil eye. But they are very fine eyes,"
+said the young girl, inspecting her quietly, as if she had been a toad
+that stood suddenly upright in her way.
+
+"I owe you an ill turn, and I shall pay it," said the woman with a
+tragic wave of the arms. "I had a way to support myself and my boy for
+a year, and you have taken it from me."
+
+"It was such a very poor way! Such a shabby farce! And it was my mother
+that--" She stopped, a slight tremor on the fair, quiet face.
+
+"Oh, I shall pay you!" The woman gathered her cheap finery about her and
+swept from the room.
+
+In the confusion Judge Rhodes had sought out Laidley, full of righteous
+wrath on behalf of his friend the captain, against this limp fellow who
+was going to enter heaven with a paltering apology for dishonesty on his
+lips. Laidley, however, was reclining in the easy-chair with his eyes
+closed, and the closed eyes gave so startling an appearance of death to
+the face that the judge was thrown back in his headlong charge. "Why,
+why, William! I'm sorry to see you looking so under the weather," he
+said kindly.
+
+Laidley's eyes began to blink: he smiled miserably: "It's too late to
+throw the blame on the weather, judge. Though I'm going back to Aiken
+next week. I came North too soon."
+
+"This affair has turned out a more palpable humbug than I expected,"
+trying to approach the point at issue by a gentle roundabout ascent. "I
+wish Van Ness had been here--Pliny Van Ness. There's a man whose advice
+I seek since I came to Philadelphia on all important matters. A man
+whose integrity, justice--God bless me, William! You must know Pliny Van
+Ness. Why don't you take his counsel, instead of meddling with these
+wretched mediums? Raising the dead to tell you what to do? Bah! If you
+had asked me, now--"
+
+Laidley had drawn himself up in the chair, his watery eyes gathering a
+faint eagerness: "Sit down. Here. I wish to speak to you, judge. Nobody
+will hear us."
+
+"Certainly. As you ask me now--I know the whole case. Don't try to talk:
+it only makes you cough. You want to say that the property--"
+
+"I want to say nothing about the property. My will was made last week. I
+am determined to throw my means into that channel where it will best
+contribute to God's service. He will not scorn a late repentance. But
+Van Ness--it was about Van Ness I wanted to talk to you."
+
+"If your will was made last week, why did you try to bring back poor
+dead Virginie to advise you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Laidley, coughing nervously--"I don't know. I
+thought she would confirm me--I--I want to be just to her daughter, God
+knows!"
+
+"What is your idea of justice?"
+
+"Why this--this," eagerly, catching the judge's red, fat hand in his
+cold fingers. "Jane will be a woman whom Van Ness would be apt to
+approve. I know he's fastidious. But she's very delicate and fair--as
+fine a bit of human flesh as I ever saw. As for mind, she has none. A
+mere child. He could mould her--mould her. Eh? I think I could throw out
+an inducement which would lead him to look favorably on her--when she's
+of a marriageable age, that is. If the girl were married to such a man
+as Van Ness, surely she would be well placed for life. Nobody could
+blame me for not making an heiress of her."
+
+"Jane? Van Ness?" said the judge thoughtfully. "Well, Van Ness is a man
+whom any woman in the country should be proud to marry. But he is
+impregnable to that sort of thing. And Jane is but a child, as you say.
+The scheme seems to me utterly unfeasible, Laidley. Besides, what has it
+to do with her claims on you?"
+
+"It has everything to do with them. I give her instead of money a home
+and husband such as no money can buy. They must be brought together,
+judge. You must do it. I have a word to say to Van Ness that will open
+his eyes to her merits. I will plant the seed, as I might say. It will
+grow fast enough."
+
+The judge was silent as he helped Laidley, still talking eagerly, down
+the stairs and into his carriage. The whole fantastic scheme was, as he
+saw, the cowardly device of the dying man to appease his conscience.
+That this poor creature should have any power to influence Van Ness, the
+purest and strongest of men, was a mere bit of braggadocio, which surely
+did not deceive even Laidley himself.
+
+But what could he do? To stab with reproach, even to argue with this
+nerveless, worn-out man, flaccid in mind and body, seemed to the kindly
+old fellow as cruel as to torture a dying fish or other cold-blooded
+creature of whose condition or capacity for suffering he could have no
+just idea.
+
+                                          REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.
+
+[TO BE CONTINUED.]
+
+
+
+
+THE SWEETENER.
+
+
+    Spring blossom, rose of June and autumn-cluster
+      Appeal alike unto the bloom of health,
+    In whose spontaneous, overflowing lustre
+      Is half the secret of the season's wealth.
+
+    The pallid cheek may warm to apple-flushes,
+      The fevered lip kiss fondly sweets of June,
+    The languid palate leap to fruitage luscious,
+      Yet weary of their day before the noon.
+
+    'Tis laughing Health, with an unhindered fountain
+      Of joy upbubbling from her being's core,
+    Whose lavish life embraces vale or mountain,
+      And drains delight at every opened door.
+
+                               MARY B. DODGE.
+
+
+
+
+AN ENGLISH EASTER.
+
+
+It may be said of the English as is said of the council of war in
+Sheridan's farce of _The Critic_ by one of the spectators of the
+rehearsal, that when they _do_ agree their unanimity is wonderful. They
+differ among themselves greatly just now as regards the machinations of
+Russia, the derelictions of Turkey, the propriety of locking up the
+Reverend Arthur Tooth for his Romanizing excesses, the histrionic merits
+of Mr. Henry Irving, and a good many other matters; but neither just now
+nor at any other time do they fail to conform to those social
+observances on which Respectability has set her seal. England is a
+country of curious anomalies, and this has much to do with her being so
+interesting to foreign observers. The English individual character is
+very positive, very independent, very much made up according to its own
+sentiment of things, very prone to startling eccentricities; and yet at
+the same time it has beyond any other this peculiar gift of squaring
+itself with fashion and custom. In no other country, I imagine, are so
+many people to be found doing the same thing in the same way at the same
+time--using the same slang, wearing the same hats and cravats,
+collecting the same china-plates, playing the same game of lawn-tennis
+or of "polo," flocking into the same skating-rinks. The monotony of this
+spectacle would soon become oppressive if the foreign observer were not
+conscious of this latent capacity in the performers for the free play of
+character; he finds a good deal of entertainment in wondering how they
+reconcile the traditional insularity of the individual with this
+perpetual tribute to custom. Of course in all civilized societies the
+tribute to custom is being constantly paid; if it is less observable in
+America than elsewhere the reason is not, I think, because individual
+independence is greater, but because custom is more sparsely
+established. Where we have customs people certainly follow them; but for
+five American customs there are fifty English. I am very far from having
+discovered the secret; I have not in the least learned what becomes of
+that explosive personal force in the English character which is
+compressed and corked down by social conformity. I look with a certain
+awe at some of the manifestations of the conforming spirit, but the
+fermenting idiosyncrasies beneath it are hidden from my vision. The most
+striking example, to foreign eyes, of the power of custom in England is
+of course the universal church-going. In the sight of all England
+getting up from its tea and toast of a Sunday morning and brushing its
+hat and drawing on its gloves and taking its wife on its arm and making
+its offspring march before, and so, for decency's, respectability's,
+propriety's sake, making its way to a place of worship appointed by the
+State, in which it respects the formulas of a creed to which it attaches
+no positive sense and listens to a sermon over the length of which it
+explicitly haggles and grumbles,--in this great exhibition there is
+something very striking to a stranger, something which he hardly knows
+whether to pronounce very sublime or very puerile. He inclines on the
+whole to pronounce it sublime, because it gives him the feeling that
+whenever it may become necessary for a people trained in these
+manoeuvres to move all together under a common direction, they will
+have it in them to do so with tremendous force and cohesiveness. We hear
+a good deal about the effect of the Prussian military system in
+consolidating the German people and making them available for a
+particular purpose; but I really think it not fanciful to say that the
+military punctuality which characterizes the English observance of
+Sunday ought to be appreciated in the same fashion. A nation which has
+passed through the mill will certainly have been stamped by it. And
+here, as in the German military service, it is really the whole nation.
+When I spoke just now of paterfamilias and his _entourage_ I did not
+mean to limit the statement to him. The young unmarried men go to
+church; the gay bachelors, the irresponsible members of society. (That
+last epithet must be taken with a grain of allowance. No one in England
+is irresponsible, that perhaps is the shortest way of describing the
+country. Every one is free and every one is responsible. To say what it
+is people are responsible to is of course a great extension of the
+question: briefly, to social expectation, to propriety, to morality, to
+"position," to the classic English conscience, which is, after all, such
+a considerable affair.)
+
+The way in which the example of the more comfortable classes imposes
+itself upon the less comfortable may of course be noticed in smaller
+matters than church-going; in a great many matters which it may seem
+trivial to mention. If one is bent upon observation nothing, however, is
+trivial. So I may cite the practice of keeping the servants out of the
+room at breakfast. It is the fashion, and so, apparently, through the
+length and breadth of England, every one who has the slightest
+pretension to standing high enough to feel the way the social breeze is
+blowing conforms to it. It is awkward, unnatural, troublesome for those
+at table, it involves a vast amount of leaning and stretching, of
+waiting and perambulating, and it has just that vice against which, in
+English history, all great movements have been made--it is arbitrary.
+But it flourishes for all that, and all genteel people, looking into
+each other's eyes with the desperation of gentility, agree to endure it
+for gentility's sake. Another arbitrary trifle is the custom of
+depriving the unhappy visitor of a napkin at luncheon. When it is
+observed that the English luncheon differs from dinner only in being
+several degrees more elaborate and copious, and that in the London
+atmosphere it is but common charity, at any moment, to multiply your
+guest's opportunities if not for ablution at least for a "dry polish,"
+it will be perceived that such eccentricities are the very wantonness
+and pedantry of fashion. But, as I say, they flourish, and they form
+part of an immense body of prescriptive usages, to which a society
+possessing in the largest manner, both by temperament and education, the
+sense of the "inalienable" rights and comforts of the individual,
+contrives to accommodate itself. I do not mean to say that usage in
+England is always uncomfortable and arbitrary. On the contrary, few
+strangers can be unfamiliar with that sensation (a most agreeable one)
+which consists in perceiving in the excesses of a custom which has
+struck us at first as a mere brutal invention, a reason existing in the
+historic "good sense" of the English race. The sensation is frequent,
+though in saying so I do not mean to imply that even superficially the
+presumption is against the usages of English society. It is not, for
+instance, necessarily against the custom of which I had it more
+especially in mind to speak in writing these lines. The stranger in
+London is forewarned that at Easter all the world goes out of town, and
+that if he has no mind to be left as lonely as Marius on the ruins of
+Carthage, he, too, had better make arrangements for a temporary absence.
+It must be admitted that there is a sort of unexpectedness in this
+vernal exodus of a body of people who, but a week before, were
+apparently devoting much energy to settling down for the season. Half of
+them have but lately come back from the country, where they have been
+spending the winter, and they have just had time, it may be supposed, to
+collect the scattered threads of town-life. Presently, however, the
+threads are dropped and society is dispersed, as if it had taken a false
+start. It departs as Holy Week draws to a close, and remains absent for
+the following ten days. Where it goes is its own affair; a good deal of
+it goes to Paris. Spending last winter in that city I remember how, when
+I woke up on Easter Monday and looked out of my window, I found the
+street covered, overnight, with a sort of snow-fall of disembarked
+Britons. They made, for other people, an uncomfortable week of it. One's
+customary table at the restaurant, one's habitual stall at the Theatre
+Francais, one's usual fiacre on the cab-stand, were very apt to have
+suffered pre-emption. I believe that the pilgrimage to Paris was this
+year of the usual proportions: and you may be sure that people who did
+not cross the Channel were not without invitations to quiet old places
+in the country, where the pale, fresh primroses were beginning to light
+up the dark turf and the purple bloom of the bare tree-mosses to be
+freckled here and there with verdure. In England country-life is the
+obverse of the medal, town-life the reverse, and when an occasion comes
+for quitting London there are few members of what the French call the
+"easy class" who have not a collection of dull, moist, verdant resorts
+to choose from. Dull I call them, and I fancy not without reason, though
+at the moment I speak of their dullness must have been mitigated by the
+unintermittent presence of the keenest and liveliest of east winds. Even
+in mellow English country homes Easter-tide is a period of rawness and
+atmospheric acridity--the moment at which the frank hostility of winter,
+which has at last to give up the game, turns to peevishness and spite.
+This is what makes it arbitrary, as I said just now, for "easy" people
+to go forth to the wind-swept lawns and the shivering parks. But nothing
+is more striking to an American than the frequency of English holidays
+and the large way in which occasions for change and diversion are made
+use of. All this speaks to Americans of three things which they are
+accustomed to see allotted in scantier measure. The English have more
+time than we, they have more money, and they have a much higher relish
+for holiday taking. (I am speaking of course always of the "easy
+classes.") Leisure, fortune and the love of sport--these things are
+implied in English society at every turn. It was a very small number of
+weeks before Easter that Parliament met, and yet a ten days' recess was
+already, from the luxurious Parliamentary point of view, a necessity. A
+short time hence we shall be having the Whitsuntide Holidays, which I am
+told are even more of a festival than Easter, and from this point to
+midsummer, when everything stops, it is an easy journey. The business
+men and the professional men partake in equal measure of these agreeable
+diversions, and I was amused at hearing a lady whose husband was an
+active member of the bar say that, though he was leaving town with her
+for ten days and though Easter was a very nice bit of idleness, they
+really amused themselves with more gusto in the later recess, which
+would come on toward the end of May. I thought this highly probable, and
+admired so picturesque a chiaroscuro of work and play. If my phrase has
+a slightly ironical sound this is purely accidental. A large appetite
+for holidays, the ability not only to take them but to know what to do
+with them when taken, is the sign of a robust people, and judged by this
+measure we Americans are rather ill-conditioned. Such holidays as we
+take are taken very often in Europe, where it is sometimes noticeable
+that our privilege is rather heavy in our hands. Tribute rendered to
+English industry, however (our own stands in no need of compliments), it
+must be added that for those same easy classes I just spoke of things
+are very easy indeed. The number of persons available for purely social
+purposes at all times and seasons is infinitely greater than among
+ourselves; and the ingenuity of the arrangements permanently going
+forward to disembarrass them of their superfluous leisure is as yet in
+America an undeveloped branch of civilization. The young men who are
+preparing for the stern realities of life among the gray-green cloisters
+of Oxford are obliged to keep their terms but one half the year; and the
+rosy little cricketers of Eton and Harrow are let loose upon the
+parental home for an embarrassing number of months. Happily the parental
+home is apt to be an affair of gardens, lawns and parks.
+
+Passion Week, in London, is distinctly an ascetic period; there is
+really an approach to sackcloth and ashes. Private dissipation is
+suspended; most of the theatres and music-halls are closed; the huge
+dusky city seems to take on a still sadder coloring and a sort of hush
+steals over its mighty uproar. At such a time, for a stranger, London is
+not cheerful. Arriving there, during the past winter, about
+Christmas-time, I encountered three British Sundays in a row--a
+spectacle to strike terror into the stoutest heart. A Sunday and a
+"bank-holiday," if I remember aright, had joined hands with a Christmas
+Day and produced the portentous phenomenon to which I allude. I
+betrayed, I suppose, some apprehension of its oppressive character, for
+I remember being told in a consolatory way that I needn't fear; it would
+not come round again for another year. This information was given me
+apropos of that surprising interruption of one's relations with the
+laundress which is apparently characteristic of the period. I was told
+that all the washerwomen were drunk, and that, as it would take them
+some time to revive, I must not look for a speedy resumption of these
+relations. I shall not forget the impression made upon me by this
+statement; I had just come from Paris and it almost sent me spinning
+back. One of the incidental _agrements_ of life in the latter city had
+been the knock at my door on Saturday evenings of a charming young woman
+with a large basket covered with a snowy napkin on her arm, and on her
+head a frilled and fluted muslin cap which was an irresistible
+advertisement of her art. To say that my admirable _blanchisseuse_ was
+_sober_ is altogether too gross a compliment; but I was always grateful
+to her for her russet cheek, her frank, expressive eye, her talkative
+smile, for the way her charming cap was poised upon her crisp, dense
+hair and her well-made dress was fitted to her well-made waist. I talked
+with her; I _could_ talk with her; and as she talked she moved about and
+laid out her linen with a delightful modest ease. Then her light step
+carried her off again, talking, to the door and with a brighter smile
+and an "Adieu, monsieur!" she closed it behind her, leaving one to think
+how stupid is prejudice and how poetic a creature a washerwoman may be.
+London, in December, was livid with sleet and fog, and against this
+dismal background was offered me the vision of a horrible old woman in
+a smoky bonnet, lying prone in a puddle of whisky! She seemed to assume
+a kind of symbolic significance, and she almost frightened me away.
+
+I mention this trifle, which is doubtless not creditable to my
+fortitude, because I found that the information given me was not
+strictly accurate and that at the end of three months I had another
+array of London Sundays to face. On this occasion however nothing
+occurred to suggest again the dreadful image I have just sketched,
+though I devoted a good deal of time to observing the manners of the
+lower orders. From Good Friday to Easter Monday, inclusive, they were
+very much _en evidence_, and it was an excellent occasion for getting an
+impression of the British populace. Gentility had retired to the
+background and in the West End all the blinds were lowered; the streets
+were void of carriages and well-dressed pedestrians were rare; but the
+"masses" were all abroad and making the most of their holiday, and I
+strolled about and watched them at their gambols. The heavens were most
+unfavorable, but in an English "outing" there is always a margin left
+for a drenching, and throughout the vast smoky city, beneath the
+shifting gloom of the sky the grimy crowds trooped about with a kind of
+weather-proof stolidity. The parks were full of them, the railway
+stations overflowed and the Thames embankment was covered. The "masses,"
+I think, are usually an entertaining spectacle, even when observed
+through the glutinous medium of London bad weather. There are indeed few
+things in their way more impressive than a dusky London holiday; it
+suggests a variety of reflections. Even looked at superficially the
+British capital is one of the most interesting of cities, and it is
+perhaps on such occasions as this that I have most felt its interest.
+London is ugly, dusky, dreary, more destitute than any European city of
+graceful and decorative incident; and though on festal days, like those
+I speak of, the populace is massed in large numbers at certain points,
+many of the streets are empty enough of human life to enable you to
+perceive their intrinsic hideousness. A Christmas Day or a Good Friday
+uncovers the ugliness of London. As you walk along the streets, having
+no fellow-pedestrians to look at, you look up at the brown brick
+house-walls, corroded with soot and fog, pierced with their straight
+stiff window-slits and finished, by way of a cornice, with a little
+black line resembling a slice of curb-stone. There is not an accessory,
+not a touch of architectural fancy, not the narrowest concession to
+beauty. If I were a foreigner it would make me rabid; being an
+Anglo-Saxon I find in it what Thackeray found in Baker street--a
+delightful proof of English domestic virtue, of the sanctity of the
+British home. There are miles and miles of these edifying monuments, and
+it would seem that a city made up of them should have no claim to that
+larger effectiveness of which I just now spoke. London, however, is not
+made up of them; there are architectural combinations of a statelier
+kind, and the impression moreover does not rest on details. London is
+picturesque in spite of details--from its dark-green, misty parks, the
+way the light comes down leaking and filtering from its cloudy skies,
+and the softness and richness of tone which objects put on in such an
+atmosphere as soon as they begin to recede. Nowhere is there such a play
+of light and shade, such a struggle of sun and smoke, such aerial
+gradations and confusions. To eyes addicted to the picturesque this is a
+constant entertainment, and yet this is only part of it. What completes
+the effect of the place is its appeal to the feelings, made in so many
+ways, but made above all by agglomerated immensity. At any given point
+London looks huge; even in narrow corners you have a sense of its
+hugeness, and petty places acquire a certain interest from their being
+parts of so mighty a whole. Nowhere, else is so much human life gathered
+together and nowhere does it press upon you with so many suggestions.
+These are not all of an exhilarating kind; far from it. But they are of
+every possible kind, and this is the interest of London. Those that were
+most forcible during the showery Easter season were certain of the more
+perplexing and depressing ones; but even with these was mingled a
+brighter strain.
+
+I walked down to Westminster Abbey on Good Friday afternoon--walked from
+Piccadilly across the Green Park and through St. James's Park. The parks
+were densely filled with the populace--the elder people shuffling about
+the walks and the poor little smutty-faced children sprawling over the
+dark damp turf. When I reached the Abbey I found a dense group of people
+about the entrance, but I squeezed my way through them and succeeded in
+reaching the threshold. Beyond this it was impossible to advance, and I
+may add that it was not desirable. I put my nose into the church and
+promptly withdrew it. The crowd was terribly compact and, beneath the
+Gothic arches, the odor was not that of incense. I slowly eliminated
+myself, with that very modified sense of disappointment that one feels
+in London at being crowded out of a place. This is a frequent
+disappointment, for you very soon find out that there are, selfishly
+speaking, too many people. Human life is cheap; your fellow-mortals are
+too plentiful. Whereever you go you make the observation. Go to the
+theatre, to a concert, to an exhibition, to a reception; you always find
+that, before you arrive, there are people enough on the field. You are a
+tight fit in your place wherever you find it; you have too many
+companions and competitors. You feel yourself at times in danger of
+thinking meanly of the human personality; numerosity, as it were,
+swallows up quality, and such perpetual familiarity contains the germs
+of contempt. This is the reason why the perfection of luxury in England
+is to own a "park"--an artificial solitude. To get one's self into the
+middle of a few hundred acres of oak-studded turf and to keep off the
+crowd by the breadth, at least, of this grassy cincture, is to enjoy a
+comfort which circumstances make peculiarly precious. But I walked back
+through the parks in the midst of these "circumstances," and I found
+that entertainment which I never fail to derive from a great English
+assemblage. The English are, to my eyes, so much the handsomest people
+in Europe that it takes some effort of the imagination to believe that
+the fact requires proof. I never see a large number of them without this
+impression being confirmed; though I hasten to add that I have sometimes
+felt it to be woefully shaken in the presence of a small number. I
+suspect that a great English crowd would yield a larger percentage of
+handsome faces and figures than any other. With regard to the upper
+class I imagine this is generally granted; but I should extend it to the
+whole people. Certainly, if the English populace strike the observer by
+their good looks they must be very good-looking indeed. They are as
+ill-dressed as their betters are well-dressed, and their garments have
+that sooty-looking surface which has nothing in common with some forms
+of ragged picturesqueness. It is the hard prose of misery--an ugly and
+hopeless imitation of respectable attire. This is especially noticeable
+in the battered and bedraggled bonnets of the women, which look as if
+their husbands had stamped on them in hobnailed boots, as a hint of what
+is in store for their wearers. Then it is not too much to say that
+two-thirds of the London faces, among the "masses," bear in some degree
+or other the traces of liquor, which is not a beautifying fluid. The
+proportion of flushed, empurpled, eruptive countenances is very
+striking; and the ugliness of the sight is not diminished by the fact
+that many of the faces thus disfigured were evidently once handsome. A
+very large allowance is to be made, too, for the people who bear the
+distinctive stamp of that physical and mental degradation which comes
+from the slums and purlieus of this dusky Babylon--the pallid, stunted,
+misbegotten and in every way miserable figures. These people swarm in
+every London crowd, and I know of none in any other place that suggest
+an equal degree of misery. But when these abatements are made, the
+observer is still liable to be struck by the frequency of well-modeled
+faces and bodies well put together; of strong, straight brows and
+handsome mouths and noses, of rounded, finished chins and well-poised
+heads, of admirable complexions and well-disposed limbs.
+
+All this, I admit, is a description of the men rather than of the women;
+but to a certain extent it includes the women. There is much more beauty
+among English women of the lower class than strangers who are accustomed
+to dwell upon their "coarseness" recognize. Pretty heads, pretty mouths
+and cheeks and chins, pretty eyes too, if you are content with a
+moderate brilliancy, and at all events charming complexions--these seem
+to me to be presented in a very sufficient abundance. The capacity of an
+Englishwoman for being handsome strikes me as unlimited, and even if (I
+repeat) it is in the luxurious class that it is most freely exercised,
+yet among the daughters of the people one sees a great many fine points.
+Among the men fine points are strikingly numerous--especially among the
+younger ones. Now the same distinction is to be made--the gentlemen are
+certainly handsomer than the vulgarians. But taking one young Englishman
+with another, they are physically very well appointed. Their features
+are finished, composed, as it were, more harmoniously than those of many
+of their nearer and remoter neighbors, and their figures are apt to be
+both powerful and compact. They present to view very much fewer
+accidental noses and inexpressive mouths, fewer sloping shoulders and
+ill-planted heads of hair, than their American kinsmen. Speaking always
+from the sidewalk, it may be said that as the spring increases in London
+and the symptoms of the season multiply, the beautiful young men who
+adorn the West-End pavements, and who advance before you in couples,
+arm-in-arm, fair-haired, gray-eyed, athletic, slow-strolling, ambrosial,
+are among the most brilliant features of the brilliant period. I have it
+at heart to add that if the English are handsomer than ourselves, they
+are also very much uglier. Indeed I think that all the European peoples
+are uglier than the American; we are far from producing those
+magnificent types of facial eccentricity which flourish among older
+civilizations. American ugliness is on the side of physical poverty and
+meanness; English on that of redundancy and monstrosity. In America
+there are few grotesques; in England there are many--and some of them
+are almost handsome!
+
+The element of the grotesque was very noticeable to me in the most
+striking collection of the shabbier English types that I had seen since
+I came to London. The occasion of my seeing them was the funeral of Mr.
+George Odger, which befell some four or five weeks before the Easter
+period. Mr. George Odger, it will be remembered, was an English radical
+agitator, of humble origin, who had distinguished himself by a perverse
+desire to get into Parliament. He exercised, I believe, the useful
+profession of shoemaker, and he knocked in vain at the door that opens
+but to golden keys. But he was a useful and honorable man, and his own
+people gave him an honorable burial. I emerged accidentally into
+Piccadilly at the moment they were so engaged, and the spectacle was one
+I should have been sorry to miss. The crowd was enormous, but I managed
+to squeeze through it and to get into a hansom cab that was drawn up
+beside the pavement, and here I looked on as from a box at the play.
+Though it was a funeral that was going on I will not call it a tragedy;
+but it was a very serious comedy. The day happened to be
+magnificent--the finest of the year. The funeral had been taken in hand
+by the classes who are socially unrepresented in Parliament, and it had
+the character of a great popular "manifestation." The hearse was
+followed by very few carriages, but the cortege of pedestrians stretched
+away in the sunshine, up and down the classic gentility of Piccadilly,
+on a scale that was highly impressive. Here and there the line was
+broken by a small brass band--apparently one of those bands of itinerant
+Germans that play for coppers beneath lodging-house windows; but for the
+rest it was compactly made up of what the newspapers call the dregs of
+the population. It was the London rabble, the metropolitan mob, men and
+women, boys and girls, the decent poor and the indecent, who had
+scrambled into the ranks as they gathered them up on their passage, and
+were making a sort of solemn spree of it. Very solemn it all
+was--perfectly proper and undemonstrative. They shuffled along in an
+interminable line, and as I looked at them out of the front of my hansom
+I seemed to be having a sort of panoramic view of the under side, the
+wrong side, of the London world. The procession was filled with figures
+which seemed never to have "shown out," as the English say, before; of
+strange, pale, mouldy paupers who blinked and stumbled in the Piccadilly
+sunshine. I have no space to describe them more minutely, but I found in
+the whole affair something memorable. My impression rose not simply from
+the radical, or as I may say for the sake of color, the revolutionary,
+emanation of this dingy concourse, lighted up by the ironical sky; but
+from the same causes that I had observed a short time before, on the day
+the queen went to open Parliament, when in Trafalgar Square, looking
+straight down into Westminster and over the royal cortege, were gathered
+a group of banners and festoons, inscribed in big staring letters with
+mottoes and sentiments which a sensitive police-department might easily
+have found seditious. They were mostly in allusion to the Tichborne
+claimant, whose release from his dungeon they peremptorily demanded, and
+whose cruel fate was taken as a pretext for several sweeping reflections
+on the social arrangements of the time and country. These portentous
+standards were allowed to sun themselves as freely as if they had been
+the manifestoes of the Irish Giant or the Oriental Dwarf at a fair. I
+had lately come from Paris, where the police-department _is_ sensitive,
+and where revolutionary placards are not observed to adorn the base of
+the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. I was, therefore, the more
+struck on both of the occasions I speak of with the admirable English
+practice of letting people alone--with the good sense and the good humor
+and even the good promise of it. It was this that I found impressive as
+I watched the "manifestation" of Mr. Odger's underfed partisans--the
+fact that the mighty mob could march along and do its errand, while the
+excellent quiet policemen stood by simply to see that the channel was
+kept clear and comfortable.
+
+When Easter Monday came it was obvious that every one (save Mr. Odger's
+friends--three or four million or so) had gone out of town. There was
+hardly a pair of shutters in the West End that was not closed; there was
+not a bell that it was any use to pull. The weather was detestable, the
+rain incessant, and the fact that all one's friends were away gave one
+plenty of leisure to reflect that the country must be the reverse of
+enlivening. But all one's friends had gone thither (this is the
+unanimity I began by talking about), and to keep down as much as
+possible the proportions of that game of hide-and-seek of which, at the
+best, so much of London social life consists, it seemed wise to bring
+within the limits of the dull season any such excursion as one might
+have projected in commemoration of the first days of spring. After due
+cogitation I paid a little visit to Canterbury and Dover, taking
+Rochester by the way, and it was of this momentous journey that I
+proposed, in beginning these remarks, to give an account. But I have
+dallied so much by the way that I have come almost to my rope's end
+without reaching my first stage. I should have begun, artistically, by
+relating that I put myself in the humor for remote adventure by going
+down the Thames on a penny steamboat to--the Tower! This was on the
+Saturday before Easter and the City was as silent as the grave. The
+Tower was a memory of my childhood, and having a theory, that from such
+memories the dust of the ages had better not be shaken, I had not
+retraced my steps to its venerable walls. But the Tower is very
+good--much less cockneyfied than I supposed it would seem to my maturer
+vision; very vast and grand, historical and romantic. I could not get
+into it, as it had been closed for Passion Week, but I was thus relieved
+from the obligation to march about with a dozen fellow-starers in the
+train of a didactic beef-eater, and I strolled at will through the
+courts and the garden, sharing them only with the lounging soldiers of
+the garrison, who made the place more picturesque. At Rochester I
+stopped for the sake of its castle, which I spied from the
+railway-train, perched on a grassy bank beside the widening Medway.
+There were other reasons as well; the place has a small cathedral, and
+one has read about it in Dickens, who lived during the latter years of
+his life at Gadshill, a couple of miles from the town. All this Kentish
+country, between London and Dover, figures indeed repeatedly in Dickens;
+he is to a certain extent, for our own time, the _genius loci_. I found
+this to be quite the case at Rochester. I had occasion to go into a
+little shop kept by a talkative old woman who had a photograph of
+Gadshill lying on her counter. This led to my asking her whether the
+illustrious master of the house often made his appearance in the town.
+"Oh, bless you, sir," she said, "we every one of us knew him to speak
+to. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday with a party of
+foreigners--as he was dead in his bed on the Friday. He 'ad on his black
+velvet suit, and it always made him look so 'andsome. I said to my
+'usband, 'I _do_ think Charles Dickens looks so nice in that black
+velvet suit.' But he said he couldn't see as he looked any way
+particular. He was in this very shop on the Tuesday, with a party of
+foreigners." Rochester consists of little more than one long street,
+stretching away from the castle and the river toward neighboring
+Chatham, and edged with low brick houses, of intensely provincial
+aspect, most of which have some small, dull quaintness of gable or
+casement. Nearly opposite to the shop of the old lady with the
+dissentient husband is a little dwelling with an inscribed slab set into
+its face, which must often have provoked a smile in the great master of
+laughter. The slab relates that in the year 1579 Richard Watts here
+established a charity which should furnish "six poor travelers, not
+rogues or proctors," one night's lodging and entertainment gratis and
+four pence in the morning to go on their way withal, and that in memory
+of his "munificence" the stone has lately been renewed. The inn at
+Rochester was poor, and I felt strongly tempted to knock at the door of
+Mr. Watts's asylum, under plea of being neither a rogue nor a proctor.
+The poor traveler who avails himself of the testamentary four pence may
+easily resume his journey as far as Chatham without breaking his
+treasure. Is not this the place where little Davy Copperfield slept
+under a cannon on his journey from London to Dover, to join his aunt,
+Miss Trotwood? The two towns are really but one, which forms an
+interminable crooked thoroughfare, crowded, in the dusk, as I measured
+it up and down, with specimens of the British soldier from the large
+garrison at Chatham; those trim and firmly-pacing red-coats who seem, to
+eyes accustomed to the promiscuous continental levies, so picked and
+disciplined, polished and pomatumed, such ornamental and yet after all,
+such capable warriors.
+
+The cathedral at Rochester is small and plain, hidden away in rather an
+awkward corner, without a verdant close to set it off. It is dwarfed and
+effaced by the great square Norman keep of the adjacent castle. But
+within it is very charming, especially beyond the detestable wall, the
+vice of almost all the English cathedrals, which shuts in the choir and
+breaks that long vista so properly of the very essence of a great
+church. Here, as at Canterbury, you ascend a high range of steps to pass
+through the small door in this wall. When I speak slightingly, by the
+way, of the outside of Rochester cathedral, I intend my faint praise in
+a relative sense. If we were so happy as to possess this inferior
+edifice in America, we should go barefoot to see it; but here it stands
+in the great shadow of Canterbury, and that makes it humble. I remember,
+however, an old priory gateway which leads you to the church, out of the
+main street; I remember something in the way of a quiet, weird deanery
+or canonry, at the base of the eastern walls; I remember a fluted tower
+that took the afternoon light and let the rooks and the swallows come
+circling and clamoring around it. Better than these things, however, I
+remember the ivy-draped mass of the castle--a most noble and imposing
+ruin. The old walled precinct has been converted into a little public
+garden, with flowers and benches, and a pavilion for a band, and the
+place was not empty, as such places in England never are. The result is
+agreeable, but I believe the process was barbarous, involving the
+destruction and dispersion of many interesting portions of the ruin. I
+sat there for a long time, however, looking in the fading light at what
+was left. This rugged pile of Norman masonry will be left when a great
+many solid things have departed; it is a sort of satire on destruction
+or decay. Its walls are fantastically thick; their great time-bleached
+expanses and all their rounded roughnesses, their strange mixture of
+softness and grimness, have an indefinable fascination for the eye.
+English ruins always come out peculiarly when the day begins to fade.
+Weather-bleached, as I say they are, they turn even paler in the
+twilight and grow consciously solemn and spectral. I have seen many a
+mouldering castle, but I remember no single mass of ruin more impressive
+than this towering square of Rochester.
+
+It is not the absence of a close that damages Canterbury; the cathedral
+stands amid grass and trees, with a great garden sweep all round it, and
+is placed in such a way that, as you pass out from under the gate-house,
+you appreciate immediately its grand feature--its extraordinary and
+magnificent length. None of the English cathedrals seems more
+beautifully isolated, more shut up to itself. It is a long walk beneath
+the walls from the gateway of the close to the far outer end of the last
+chapel. Of all that there is to observe in this upward-gazing stroll I
+can give no detailed account; I can speak only of the general
+impression. This is altogether delightful. None of the rivals of
+Canterbury have a more complicated and elaborate architecture, a more
+perplexing intermixture of periods, a more charming jumble of Norman
+arches and English points and perpendiculars. What makes the side-view
+superb, moreover, is the double transepts, which produce a fine
+modification of gables and buttresses. It is as if two great churches
+had joined forces toward the middle--one giving its nave and the other
+its choir, and each keeping its own great cross-aisles. Astride of the
+roof, between them, sits a huge Gothic tower, which is one of the latest
+portions of the building, though it looks like one of the earliest, so
+crumbled and blunted and mellowed is it by time and weather. Like the
+rest of the structure it has a magnificent color--a sort of rich dull
+yellow, a something that is neither brown nor gray. This is particularly
+appreciable from the cloister on the farther side of the church--the
+side, I mean, away from the town and the open garden-sweep I spoke of;
+the side that looks toward a damp old deanery lurking behind a brown
+archway, through which you see young ladies in Gainsborough hats playing
+something on a patch of velvet turf; the side, in short, that is somehow
+intermingled with a green quadrangle which serves as a play-ground to a
+King's School, which is adorned externally with a most precious and
+picturesque old fragment of Norman staircase. This cloister is not "kept
+up;" it is very dusky and mouldy and dilapidated, and of course very
+picturesque. The old black arches and capitals are various and handsome,
+and in the centre are tumbled together a group of crooked gravestones,
+themselves almost buried in the deep soft grass. Out of the cloister
+opens the chapter-house, which is not kept up either, but which is none
+the less a magnificent structure; a noble lofty hall, with a beautiful
+wooden roof, simply arched like that of a tunnel, and very grand and
+impressive from its great sweep and its absence of columns, brackets or
+supports of any kind. The place is now given up to dust and echoes; but
+it looks more like a banqueting-hall than a council-room of priests, and
+as you sit on the old wooden bench, which, raised on two or three steps,
+runs round the base of the four walls, you may gaze up and make out the
+faint, ghostly traces of decorative paint and gold upon the noble
+ceiling. A little patch of this has been restored, "to give an idea."
+From one of the angles of the cloister you are recommended by the verger
+to take a view of the great tower, which indeed detaches itself with
+tremendous effect. You see it base itself upon the roof as broadly as if
+it were striking roots in earth, and then pile itself away to a height
+which seems to make the very swallows dizzy, as they fall twittering
+down its shafted sides. Within the cathedral you hear a great deal, of
+course, about poor Thomas A'Becket, and the great sensation of the place
+is to stand on the particular spot where he was murdered and look down
+at a small fragmentary slab which the verger points out to you as a bit
+of the pavement that caught the blood-drops of the struggle. It was late
+in the afternoon when I first entered the church; there had been a
+service in the choir, but it was well over and I had the place to
+myself. The verger, who had some pushing about of benches to attend to,
+turned me into the locked gates and left me to wander through the
+side-aisles of the choir and into the great chapel beyond it. I say I
+had the place to myself; but it would be more decent to affirm that I
+shared it, in particular, with another gentleman. This personage was
+stretched upon a couch of stone, beneath a quaint old canopy of wood;
+his hands were crossed upon his breast and his pointed toes rested upon
+a little griffin or leopard. He was a very handsome fellow and the image
+of a gallant knight. His name was Edward Plantagenet and his sobriquet
+was the Black Prince. "_De la mort ne pensai-je mye_," he says in the
+beautiful inscription embossed upon the bronze base of his image; and I
+too, as I stood there, thought not a whit of death. His bones were in
+the pavement beneath my feet, but within his rigid bronze his life
+burned fresh and strong. Simple, handsome and expressive, it is a
+singularly striking and even touching monument, and in the silent, empty
+chapel which had held together for so many ages this last remnant of his
+presence it was possible to feel a certain personal nearness to him.
+One had been farther off, after all, from other examples of that British
+valor of which he is the most picturesque type. In this same chapel for
+many a year stood the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury, one of the
+richest and most potent in Christendom. The pavement which lay before it
+has kept its place, but Henry VIII. swept everything else away into the
+limbo of his ransacked abbeys and his murdered wives. Becket was
+originally buried in the crypt of the church; his ashes lay there for
+fifty years, and it was only little by little that his martyrdom was, as
+the French say, "exploited." Then he was transplanted into the Lady
+Chapel; every grain of his dust became a priceless relic and the
+pavement was hollowed by the knees of pilgrims. It was on this errand of
+course that Chaucer's story-telling cavalcade came to Canterbury. I made
+my way down into the crypt, which is a magnificent maze of low, dark
+arches and pillars, and groped about till I found the place where the
+frightened monks had first shuffled the inanimate victim of Moreville
+and Fitzurse out of the reach of further desecration. While I stood
+there a violent thunder-storm broke over the cathedral; great rumbling
+gusts and rain-drifts came sweeping through the open sides of the crypt,
+and, mingling with the darkness which seemed to deepen and flash in
+corners, and with the potent mouldy smell, made me feel as if I had
+descended into the very bowels of history. I emerged again, but the
+rain had settled down and spoiled the evening, and I splashed back to my
+inn and sat in a chair by the coffee-room fire, reading Dean Stanley's
+agreeable "Memorials" of Canterbury, and wondering over the musty
+appointments and meagre resources of English hostels. This establishment
+had entitled itself (in compliment to the Black Prince, I suppose), the
+"Fleur-de-Lis." The name was very pretty (I had been foolish enough to
+let it take me to the inn), but the lily was sadly deflowered. I found
+compensation at Dover, however, where the "Lord Warden" Hotel struck me
+as the best inn I had encountered in England. My principal errand at
+Dover was to look for Miss Betsey Trotwood's cottage, but I am sorry to
+say I failed to discover it. Was it not upon the downs, overlooking the
+town and the sea? I saw nothing on the downs but Dover Castle, which, in
+default of Miss Trotwood's stronghold, I zealously visited. It is an
+establishment of quite the same character, bristling with offensive and
+defensive machinery. More seriously speaking, it is a magnificent
+fortress--a bequest of the Middle Ages turned to excellent account by
+modern engineers. The day was clear and beautiful, and I walked about
+for a while among the towers and the grassy bastions; then I stood and
+gossiped with an amiable gunner who talked to me of Malta, leaning
+against the rampart and looking across the wrinkled sea to the
+glimmering cliffs of France.
+
+                                    HENRY JAMES, JR.
+
+
+
+
+THE ELIXIR.
+
+
+    "Oh brew me a potion strong and good!
+      One golden drop in his wine
+    Shall charm his sense and fire his blood,
+      And bend his will to mine."
+
+    Poor child of passion! ask of me
+      Elixir of death or sleep,
+    Or Lethe's stream; but love is free,
+      And woman must wait and weep.
+
+                      EMMA LAZARUS.
+
+
+
+
+LEONIE REGNAULT: A STUDY FROM FRENCH LIFE.
+
+
+In the pretty town of Macon, on the banks of the Saone, lived Leonie
+Regnault. She remembered no other home than the gray stone house with
+its balconied windows that overlooked the beautiful river and the long,
+somewhat formal promenades that stretch along its banks, with their
+green trees and many seats, but never a blade of grass--all dry,
+hard-beaten gravel, after the ugly French fashion, convenient enough, it
+must be confessed, for the evening loungers, gay or tired, whom the dewy
+green of Nature might incommode.
+
+Leonie's father lived in Paris, and he had brought her when only three
+years old to the gray stone house and the care of his only sister,
+Madame Perrin, a childless widow, who gladly received the beautiful
+little girl to the large shelter of a loving heart. But Leonie never
+forgot her father. The little creature would sit on her low-cushioned
+chair and sing to herself, "Mon beau papa! mon beau papa! O comme je
+t'aime, mon beau papa!" I suppose every tender father appears beautiful
+to his little child, but Colonel Regnault was indeed a strikingly
+handsome man, with a perfect grace and dignity of manner which rendered
+him indispensable to the court of Louis Napoleon, where he had a
+prominent position on all days of ceremony. Once or twice a year he made
+his escape from court duties for a brief visit to Leonie, whose love for
+him grew more intense with years, concentrating in itself all the
+romance of her enthusiastic nature.
+
+Madame Perrin saw few visitors, and scarcely ever went out except to
+mass. Every morning her good Louise took Leonie to the girls' school in
+the old stone mansion which had once been the home of Lamartine, and
+went every evening to conduct her home again. Of course, Leonie had her
+inseparable friend, as what school-girl has not, and few lovers are so
+devoted to each other as were Leonie Regnault and Helene Dupres. They
+sat side by side every day in school, and out of school wrote each other
+long letters, of which they were generally themselves the bearers. Life
+seems so rich and inexhaustible when it is new--the merest nothing has
+its poem and history. They had made their first communion together,
+which was the most important incident hitherto in Leonie's uneventful
+life. Her father had come down on this occasion, and when she came from
+the altar he had put aside her white veil and kissed her with tears in
+his eyes.
+
+Leonie had completed her fifteenth year when she was thrown into great
+excitement by an unexpected piece of news. Her father was about to
+marry. The future Madame Regnault was a young widow of good family and
+large fortune. He had taken this step, he said, for Leonie's sake even
+more than for his own. He wished to have his daughter with him and to
+cultivate her talents; and how could this be done without a home in
+Paris? The marriage would take place early in September, and the first
+week in October he would come for Leonie. He looked forward with delight
+to having a home for his beautiful beloved child.
+
+It was the last week in September. The rain was falling in a dull dreary
+way, as it had been falling all day and almost a week of days.
+
+"I wish it would clear up," said Leonie. "I hate to have everything look
+so dreary just the last week I have to stay."
+
+"Do you ever think, cherie, how dull it will be for me when you are
+gone? What shall I do without ma chere petite?" asked Madame Perrin
+tenderly.
+
+"And what shall I do without you, chere maman? I am afraid I shall not
+like the new mamma that papa has given me. Or perhaps I am only afraid
+that she will not like me. You are my real mother," taking her hand
+caressingly. "I wish I could remember my own mother. Why have you never
+told me anything about her? I have asked you so many times."
+
+"I never was acquainted with your mother. She lived in Paris, you know,
+and I lived here."
+
+"But you have seen her. Was she beautiful? Am I like her?"
+
+"Yes," said Madame Perrin with a little start--"so much like her that it
+frightens me." Then more deliberately, in reply to Leonie's astonished
+eyes, "I mean that it is sad to be reminded of one who is dead."
+
+"Papa must have loved her very much. I remember when I was a little
+girl, and began to wonder why I had not a mother like Helene, you said I
+must never ask papa about her, it would give him so much pain. But now I
+may, now that he has given her place to somebody else."
+
+"By no means, Leonie--less than ever. If your poor father has at last
+succeeded in leaving his sorrow behind him, do you wish to drag him back
+to it, you thoughtless child?"
+
+"Then you must tell me yourself, ma tante. It is very strange that you
+are so unwilling to tell me anything about my pretty mother who died
+when I was almost a baby."
+
+"Why will you be so persistent? I do not like to give you so much pain."
+
+"Why, dear aunt, I shall like to hear about her. It is very sad not to
+have any mother, but I can't feel as distressed about it as if I had
+known and loved her. She is only a beautiful dream to me. I cannot feel
+as I should if you were to die and leave me. You must tell me. I shall
+not let you have any peace till you do. You can't refuse me now, just
+when I am going away."
+
+"Well, if I must, I must," said Madame Perrin with trembling voice.
+"What do I know? It may be for your salvation. The Blessed Virgin grant
+it! Your mother, Leonie, was a great beauty."
+
+"I was sure of it. If I could only have seen her with my dear papa! He
+is so handsome always."
+
+"She was a great singer too."
+
+"I am glad of it. I shall be a singer when I have learned in Paris. I
+care more for the lessons in singing than for anything else in the great
+beautiful city, except being with my own papa."
+
+"But, Leonie, your mother sang in the Grand Opera. She was the best
+singer in France, or in the world perhaps, and everybody was crazy about
+her."
+
+"And so papa married an opera-singer? It is quite a romance."
+
+"He did not marry her."
+
+"Not marry her?" said Leonie with white face and great black, wide-open
+eyes.
+
+"She was married already to one of the singers in the opera, and she
+left him to live with your father."
+
+Leonie's white lips shaped rather than uttered the question, "What did
+he do, the husband?"
+
+"He challenged your father, and, though he was so much his inferior,
+Leon was too generous to hurt his feelings by refusing to fight with him
+after doing him such an injury. He was so good a swordsman that he
+easily disarmed him with only a slight wound."
+
+"This is terrible!" said Leonie. "My father such a wicked man!"
+
+"That is not the way the world looked at it. All the men envied Leon,
+and the women flattered and spoiled him more than ever."
+
+"I hate my father!" cried Leonie with quick, passionate sobs. "No wonder
+my poor mother died. I shall be her avenger: I feel it."
+
+"You do not know what you are saying. Your mother avenged herself. She
+deserted him as she deserted her husband, and you too, my poor child,
+when you were just learning to say 'Mamma.' Poor Leon! he sinned, but he
+suffered too. Be merciful to him, Leonie, as you pray God to be merciful
+to you."
+
+"Is my mother alive?" asked Leonie, shivering.
+
+"No: she died three years ago. Your father never would see her again,
+but when he heard that she was sick and in want (she had entirely lost
+her wonderful voice), he gave her an annuity because she was your
+mother. Father Aubrey used to see her from time to time, and he said
+she was truly penitent before she died."
+
+"Oh, what shall I do? I shall never be happy again--never, never! What
+made you tell me? How could you?" said poor Leonie, wringing her little
+hands and burying her face in the cushions.
+
+"My child, you would hear it sooner or later in that great, wicked city,
+and it is better that you should be prepared. You are beautiful like
+your mother, you will sing like her, and I am so afraid--" here the poor
+little woman broke down and began to cry like Leonie, but less
+violently--"I am so afraid that you will go on the stage and be tempted
+and fall like her. Promise me that you will never sing in the opera,
+Leonie, no matter who urges it, even if it is your father himself."
+
+"I will die first," answered Leonie. "I wish I had never been born."
+
+"Don't tell your father, Leonie," sobbed Madame Perrin; and here the
+conversation ended.
+
+"What's the matter with Leonie?" asked Colonel Regnault the night after
+his arrival. "She looks so pale and languid, and hardly gives me a
+welcome. What ails the child?"
+
+"She has not been quite well for a few days, and I dare say she feels
+sad at leaving Helene and me," replied his sister.
+
+"She'll brighten up when she gets to Paris," said the colonel.
+
+The sorrow of early youth, however violent, is seldom proof against new
+impressions, and this was especially true of one so susceptible and
+mobile as Leonie Regnault. She entered enthusiastically upon her musical
+studies, taking lessons of Madame Viardot and also at the Conservatoire.
+Madame Regnault was a sweet and quiet woman, devotedly attached to her
+husband, and not a little afraid of him. Colonel Regnault, with all his
+urbanity, had a despotic will, extending to the most minute and
+seemingly indifferent things: he was just the kind of man to graduate a
+gentle, loving woman into a saint. The only time I ever dined with
+Madame Regnault I was forced to eat under the cold steel of his clear
+blue eye a plate of those small red shrimps which Parisians think so
+delicious (I could have swallowed spiders with as little effort), and
+afterward quaff a cup of black coffee with its cap of blue flame, which
+reminded me of "Deacon Giles's Distillery," in spite of protest and
+direful headache _in terrorem_; and the colonel thought he was polite to
+me. He chose all madame's gowns: the poor little woman did not venture
+to buy even a ribbon for herself; and from having been one of the most
+elegant women in Paris, she grew at length almost dowdyish; not but that
+her garments were as fresh and as costly as ever, but the brilliant
+colors and conspicuous styles which had suited the opera-singer, and
+which heightened the beauty of Leonie, extinguished the delicate color
+and soft blue eyes of Madame Regnault, and were so little in harmony
+with her person and character as to have almost the effect of a discord
+in music.
+
+A year passed, and her heart was made glad by a dear little son, who was
+named Leon for his father. The little fellow was six weeks old, and his
+mother had scarcely left the nursery, which was a bit of heaven to her,
+when Colonel Regnault startled her from her dream of bliss: "I have
+found just the nurse for the baby, the wife of a small farmer who lives
+close to Rosny Station. She will wean her child and take him. She is
+such a fresh, healthy-looking woman, and everything is so clean and tidy
+in her cottage, that you will be delighted with her, I am sure."
+
+"Oh, Leon, may I not nurse him myself? I cannot give him up to anybody.
+Who will take so good care of my little precious darling as his own
+mother?"
+
+"It is not to be thought of, Clemence: it would wear you out. See, you
+are crying now: it shows how weak and nervous you are. Besides, Leonie
+needs you. She is losing already, for nobody plays her accompaniments so
+well as you, and I do not like to have her go to the Conservatoire with
+a bonne when it can be helped: a girl so striking is likely to be
+watched and followed. I never feel safe about her unless you are with
+her. Don't be silly: the baby will be better off in the country."
+
+Madame Regnault was very kind to Leonie: it was impossible for her to be
+otherwise to any one. She was devoted to her for her father's sake: she
+felt a thrill of delight in her beauty, in her wonderful talents; but
+she did not love her. She might have loved her perhaps--though there was
+not much in common between the ardent, high-spirited girl and the
+gentle, patient woman, except, indeed, the taste for music--but it is
+not in nature, and hardly in grace, for a woman thirsting for her
+husband's love to like being always postponed to some one else. Colonel
+Regnault seemed to have no perception of anything but his beautiful
+daughter: his ambition was centred in her even more than his affection.
+Leonie's talent developed rapidly, and his pride was fed by the praises
+of her masters and the more flattering compliments of friends and
+connoisseurs who were present at the musical soirees given from time to
+time at his own house.
+
+But Leonie did not contribute to the peace of the household. Her aunt
+had not found it out, Madame Regnault never would have discovered it,
+but her father's despotic will roused one equally defiant in her, and
+when they came in contact it was the collision of flint and steel.
+Leonie often carried her point against her father, and he admired her
+only the more for it. The contests were quick and sharp--not very
+frequent, but very unpleasant to Madame Regnault. She grew thin and pale
+and spiritless. She was not yet thirty, and she had aged by half a score
+of years in the year and a half of her marriage.
+
+Her mother, Madame Dumesnil, was indignant at what she considered the
+colonel's neglect of his wife, and mentally threatened to give him "a
+piece of her mind." She had not long to wait for an occasion.
+
+"I am sorry to see Clemence looking so ill," said she to him as he
+entered his wife's dressing-room one day a little before breakfast--that
+is to say, about noon.
+
+"I had not noticed that she was ailing," he rejoined with a quick glance
+at his wife.
+
+"It is well that somebody has eyes," continued Madame Dumesnil. "I did
+not expect that my daughter was to become a governess when she married
+you. Her previous life had not prepared her for such arduous duties."
+
+"My wife does not complain," said the colonel haughtily.
+
+"Clemence complain! She would not complain if she suffered martyrdom."
+Madame Regnault looked imploringly at her mother, but she went on more
+sternly than before: "If Clemence had a spark of spirit she would never
+have had Leonie in the house. It is a shame for her to be made a slave
+to the opera-singer's girl, and I am not the only one who thinks so."
+
+"Pardon me, madame," responded her son-in-law, "the conversation is too
+exciting for me. I have the honor to wish you a good-morning;" and he
+bowed himself out with the most exasperating courtesy.
+
+"Oh, mother, what have you done?" cried Madame Regnault, trembling and
+tearful. "How could you make him so angry?"
+
+"How _could_ I, indeed! I wish I were his wife a little while: he
+wouldn't find it so easy to tyrannize over me. I don't know where you
+got your disposition from: you didn't take it from me, that's certain."
+
+"Jacques," said Colonel Regnault to the porter as he left the house,
+"when Madame Dumesnil calls to see your mistress hereafter, let me know
+it, and remember that I am never at home."
+
+Leonie, though she felt a certain hardness in the manner of Madame
+Dumesnil when she happened to meet her, was wholly unaware of what was
+passing in the heart of Madame Regnault, who had a genuine sympathetic
+interest in the development of her remarkable powers, playing her
+accompaniments unweariedly for hours daily and giving her the benefit of
+her own delicate and highly-cultivated taste. They were happy years for
+Leonie. Her young soul, full of the inspiration and power of genius,
+felt its wings growing. There is an atmosphere of art in Paris which is
+powerfully stimulating to any one of aesthetic tendencies; and how
+exhilarating was this subtle atmosphere to Leonie! The Conservatoire,
+with its seventy professors and its thousand students, its competitions,
+concerts and public exercises, stimulated her zeal and inspired ever
+higher ideals that made close, hard study the play of her fresh and
+delighted faculties. Once a week her father took her to the opera. It
+happened that the first opera she heard was _Faust_, and she sat as if
+in a dream, white and scared, seeming to see in the scenes the spectre
+of her mother. But this impression wore away, and ere many weeks had
+passed her heart dilated, her eyes kindled with the triumphs of the
+singer, and she felt as Correggio when he looked on Raphael's _St.
+Cecilia_ and exclaimed, "I, too, am a painter!"
+
+Thus the days went on, not too slowly, till Leonie had entered her
+nineteenth year and approached the close of her studies. The finest
+concerts of Paris and the most exclusive are those of the Conservatoire,
+six in number, which occur once a fortnight from the middle of January
+to the middle of April. Leonie had often sung in the small concert-hall
+at examinations and private exercises, but now she was to sing in the
+Salle de Spectacle for the celebrated Societe des Concerts. This
+wonderful company is composed mostly of the professors and teachers at
+the Conservatoire, and it is a rare honor for a pupil to sing or play at
+these concerts; but Leonie was a rare pupil, and whatever may be said of
+the jealousy of artists, I hold that true genius always exults in the
+recognition of genius. Leonie sang in each of the six concerts of her
+last year at the Conservatoire, and her singing gave exquisite delight
+to the appreciative listeners: the applause was heart-felt,
+enthusiastic, inspiring. But on the last night her father's rapture and
+pride reached their height. The beautiful concert-hall, so refined and
+classic with its Pompeii-like decorations, was filled with the most
+brilliant audience of a most brilliant city. The symphony had ended, and
+Leonie was to sing some selections from the opera of _Fidelio_. The
+applause which greeted her as she advanced on the stage was perhaps a
+tribute to her superb beauty and perfect grace. She was paler than
+usual, her large black eyes were full of that intense light which only
+emotion gives, but she showed no embarrassment, and felt none. She saw
+not the faces, heard not the plaudits. She was alone with her art. Her
+soul went forth into the song, and one listened in rapture, touched with
+pain that aught so sweet should be so evanescent. When the wonderful
+voice seemed to die like a vanishing soul there was silence for a
+moment--silence most eloquent of eulogies--and then came a burst of
+applause, the most enthusiastic that ever relieved a listener's heart or
+charmed a singer's ear.
+
+The concert ended. Her father, proud and exultant, clasped her in his
+arms. Did he hear the whispers that Leonie's quick ear caught? "Colonel
+Regnault's daughter, the opera-singer's child. You remember that old
+story?"--"Ah, indeed! Wonderfully like her mother: more distinguished
+manner. Something of her father too. Will Regnault let her go on the
+stage, do you think?"--"I cannot tell. Il est fou d'elle. He brings her
+up in his own family."--"Vraiment? Good wife, Madame Regnault." Leonie
+shrank involuntarily from her father's embrace.
+
+The competitive examinations came, and naturally Leonie received the
+highest prize in singing.
+
+"I do not envy you, mademoiselle," said one of the unsuccessful
+candidates with a look and tone that accentuated the sneer: "there are
+other things that people inherit besides their musical talents."
+
+"There will be plenty of spitefulness for your children to inherit,
+whether there is any talent or not," retorted Leonie, her eyes flashing
+with resentful pride. It was the first time that any one had
+deliberately alluded to the taint upon her birth, and it stung.
+
+"I have something to tell you," said her father to Leonie a few days
+after. "The director of the opera has been talking to me about you. He
+is only waiting for my consent to bring you out at the Imperial Opera."
+
+Leonie's face lighted up with a quick gleam of surprise and pleasure,
+which was followed by a sudden terror.
+
+"You may think it strange that I felt any reluctance: you are so young
+that you do not know enough of society to appreciate the objections. Not
+that there are any insuperable objections. In an art-loving community
+like ours the career of a great artist is prouder than a queen's."
+
+The color had faded from Leonie's face, but her father did not notice
+it.
+
+"The empress condescended to speak to me about it to-day. Her Majesty
+has the welfare of the opera very much at heart, and, as she says, one
+is responsible for a talent like yours. It is the rarest of gifts. Why
+not consecrate it to the elevation of art and the delight of the world?
+A vocation for art is as sacred as one for religion, and it would be
+almost a crime in me to hold you back from so manifest a destiny as
+yours. Well, what have you to say, child?" and he looked full into his
+daughter's pale, agitated face. "It is too much for you, my darling: you
+are quite overcome. Think it over and tell me to-morrow night." And he
+kissed her trembling lips with unusual emotion.
+
+Leonie went to her room, but not to sleep. How short was that sleepless
+night, with its whirl of conflicting resolutions, its torrent of
+emotion, its ceaseless panorama of dissolving views! Opera after opera
+unrolled in magical splendor before her eyes, resounded in bursts of
+harmony in her ears and flowed in waves of delicious sweetness into her
+heart. And in all she was queen, and hearts rose and fell at her bidding
+as the ocean-waves beneath the strong and sweet compelling of the moon.
+It was intoxication, but underlying it was the deep satisfaction of a
+soul that has found the true outlet of its highest powers. "All the
+current of her being" surged and eddied into this one career that opened
+so invitingly before her. But she could not say "I will," though she
+wished to do so. The glories faded and another vision came. Her mother
+seemed to lie before her, dying, forsaken, remorseful, sinful. Was it
+her mother? was it herself? "Art thou stronger than I?" asked the
+voiceless lips.--"Yea, I am stronger," replied the soul of Leonie. And
+then a sudden revelation of incipient vanities and weaknesses and pride
+flashed across her consciousness as in the great light of God. Leonie
+shrank away self-abased. "Did my worship of art, which I thought so
+holy, hide all this?" she questioned.
+
+The morning light came faintly through the curtained windows. Leonie
+rose, dressed herself quickly, and calling a bonne went to the Madeleine
+to early mass. After mass she entered the confessional of the
+white-haired father who had been her spiritual guide for the three years
+and a half of her life in Paris. On her return she locked herself into
+her room and passed the day alone.
+
+"Well, my girl," inquired her father in the evening, "what am I to tell
+the director? Have you chosen the opera for your debut already?"
+
+"I shall never sing in the opera, father."
+
+"Why, what is this, Leonie? If I have got over my scruples, I do not see
+that you need have any. I thought it would be just what you were longing
+for."
+
+"I do long for it," said Leonie firmly, "and therefore I think it is not
+best."
+
+"Don't speak in riddles," rejoined her father angrily. "Do you
+mean to tell me that you are going to throw away your glorious
+possibilities--certainties, I might say--for a whim?"
+
+"Not for a whim, but because it is right."
+
+"It is incomprehensible!" cried the colonel, walking the floor
+excitedly. "Here have you been for years in one rhapsody of music,
+nothing else in life--your mother and I and everything given up to help
+you on--and now, when such a prospect opens before you, a career that a
+princess might envy, when even the empress condescends to solicit
+it--'No, I am not going to sing. I'll throw it all away--my talent, my
+father's wishes.' Oh, it is insufferable! It is just like the perverse
+willfulness of women;" and he turned upon her in a white rage.
+
+Leonie did not quail. "Father," said she, speaking very low, but with
+crystal clearness, "do you wish me to be like my mother?"
+
+Colonel Regnault staggered back. "My poor child," he whispered faintly,
+"who told you that story? Who could have the heart?"
+
+The next day Leonie, with her father's permission, went to Macon to
+spend some weeks with her aunt. Soon after her departure Madame Regnault
+asked, "Now that Leonie is gone, cannot we have the children home?"
+
+"We will bring Leon home," replied her husband. "He is a fine little
+fellow, and will make the house cheerful, but the baby will be better
+off in the country a year longer. We will have him in for a few days if
+you like, and the nurse can come with him."
+
+"I will go out this very afternoon," said the mother. "Jeanne will go
+with me."
+
+"No, my dear, it is too hard a jaunt for you: I will go to-morrow."
+
+"Let me go, Leon: I feel so uneasy about the children. I cannot tell
+why, but it seems as if something was going to happen to them."
+
+"What could happen to them? and what difference will a day make? I am
+glad I am not a woman, to be so anxious about nothing," said the
+colonel, smiling.
+
+About eleven o'clock on the morrow the colonel reached Rosny, and was
+startled as he approached the house by an appearance of unusual stir,
+persons going in and out in a hurried and excited way. He entered. The
+nurse rushed toward him in vehement anguish: "Oh, Colonel Regnault, you
+are here! John has told you. Where is he? Did he not return with you?"
+
+"I have not seen your husband, good woman. What is the matter? Are the
+children ill? I came out for them."
+
+"Oh, I cannot tell him! I cannot tell him!" sobbed the unhappy woman.
+"The dear beautiful babies! It breaks my heart!"
+
+"May God help you to bear it, sir: it is a heavy grief," said an aged
+woman. "The little boys are dead."
+
+"Dead!" cried the heartstricken father--"my children dead! One of them,
+you mean--not both, not both!"
+
+It was true. The baby, a dear little fellow six or seven months old,
+had had for several days a cold which the nurse did not think serious:
+during the night he had been attacked by croup, and about eight o'clock
+in the morning, almost before the doctor had arrived, the child was
+dead. Absorbed in the grief and terror of this sudden death, the nurse
+forgot to mind Leon, and the restless, active child slipped out of the
+house unheeded, and, playing on the railway-track, had been killed by a
+passing train not an hour before his father came for him.
+
+Colonel Regnault's grief was violent and remorseful. "I have killed my
+children," he would say to his pitying friends. "If I had but listened
+to my wife and had them brought up at home! What is the croup with a
+watchful, intelligent mother, and a skillful physician at the very door?
+and how could any accident have happened to Leon here? So many idle
+servants in my house, and my own child to die for lack of care!"
+
+Madame Regnault never knew how Leon died. The little body was not
+mangled: it had been caught and thrown aside by something attached to
+the engine--I do not know exactly how--and the mother was left to
+believe that he had died of sickness like the baby. She bore her sorrow
+with the still meekness consonant with her character, and with wifely
+tenderness exerted herself to soothe her husband's violent grief.
+
+A little later in the summer the war broke out. Colonel Regnault went
+gladly, even rashly, into danger, and found neither death nor wounds,
+but in his anguish for the desolation of his country he made a truce
+with his own remorse.
+
+The last time I was in Paris--which was in 1874--General and Madame
+Regnault called on me at my old friend's, Madame Le Fort's. A charming
+little girl about three years old was with them, a blue-eyed,
+fair-haired child--very beautiful, and as much like her father as a
+little girl can be like a man approaching fifty. I was not surprised to
+see that she was, as her mother said, "une petite fille gatee." I
+inquired for Leonie.
+
+"Can you believe that Leonie has not been in Paris since you saw her
+here?" replied her father. "She is a thorough little provincial. She has
+been married more than a year now."
+
+"Ah, I congratulate you! I hope her marriage was pleasing to you," I
+added, as he did not respond immediately.
+
+"Assez. Her husband is a very worthy young man for a
+provincial--Theophile Dupres, the brother of a little school-friend of
+hers. I went down to the wedding, not to grieve Leonie, but I shall
+never be reconciled to it--never! To think what that girl threw away!
+Such talent! and to have it lost, utterly lost! It is inexplicable.
+Every motive that could influence a girl on the one hand, and--But I
+give it up. Let us not talk of it," he concluded with a little wave of
+his hand, as if dismissing Leonie and all that pertained to her.
+
+But I could not turn my thoughts from her so quickly. Even now, when I
+am, so to speak, in another world, she causes me not a little
+perplexity. Was she right? was she wrong? Can one ever be happy in
+suppressing a great talent? How it strives and agonizes for some
+manifestation of itself! and when it slowly dies, stifled in its living
+grave, must not one feel a bitter regret for having slain the nobler
+part of one's self?
+
+But is it not heresy to doubt that a woman can sacrifice genius for
+love, and be content--yea, glad--with an infinite joy? And why not have
+love and genius too? Alas! most lives are opaque planets, like the earth
+on which they are evolved, and can have only one bright side at a time.
+
+Madame Regnault was little changed: she preserved the old sweet
+gentleness and quiet refinement of manner, but she seemed more at ease
+with her husband, and did not watch so timidly his least gesture.
+Colonel--or rather General--Regnault had changed more. He had grown
+quite gray: he was still a handsome, high-bred gentleman, with the same
+exquisite urbanity of manner, but the disappointment of his ambition for
+Leonie, the anguish which had smitten him for his children's death, and
+the great calamity which had almost crushed France, the idol of every
+Frenchman, had softened and humanized him. He was less like an Apollo
+exulting in his own divinity; and when I marked his tender
+thoughtfulness for his wife, his unwonted appreciation of her lovely
+character, and especially his indulgence of the caprices of little
+Aimee, who was almost always his companion, I was ready to believe in
+his entire conversion.
+
+But can the Ethiopian change his skin? One morning Madame Le Fort's
+little dressmaker came rushing in in a very excited way: "Mon Dieu! I am
+so glad to get here! Quel homme terrible!"
+
+"What is the matter?" asked madame.
+
+"I have just been trying on Madame Regnault's new costume, the gray
+faille and velvet, you know, that she selected when she came with you.
+It is a charming costume, and she looked sweetly in it. The general came
+in before I got through. 'Do you call that a costume?' he asked in a
+passion. 'It makes her look like a fright. Take it away: never let me
+see it again.' Poor little madame hurried me to get it off. 'Take it
+away! out of the house with it!' cried he as if he were commanding a
+regiment of dragoons.--'I can't take it away,' said I. 'It was made to
+order--madame selected it herself--and you cannot expect me to take it
+back.' I was frightened to death, but I couldn't lose the money, you
+know. The window was open: he seized the unlucky costume, and giving it
+a little whirl, sent it flying out of the window over the balustrade.
+Madame was going to send her maid for it, but no; the wind caught it,
+and away it went out of the court, and where it lighted or who picked it
+up is more than I know, or madame either. It may be a fine thing to be a
+general's wife, but I'd rather be a dressmaker."
+
+And the little dressmaker laughed till she cried to think of madame's
+handsome costume sailing out of the window over the Avenue Haussmann,
+and lighting like a balloon on the head of some lucky or luckless
+passer-by.
+
+                                          MARY E. BLAIR.
+
+
+
+
+PRIMARY AND SECONDARY EDUCATION IN FRANCE.
+
+
+For a long period, France, with her ancient university and her venerable
+scholastic institutions--which after the Renaissance drew to themselves
+the flower of the youth of Europe--may be said to have led the way as
+regards general education. It has only been in modern times that the
+progress made by the Anglo-Saxon and German nations has placed, at all
+events, primary instruction in France somewhat in the rear of other
+countries. As for her system of secondary and superior education, it has
+even within the last few years elicited many expressions of approval
+from foreigners competent to form a judgment on the subject. In the
+following pages we propose giving a succinct account of the actual
+system and position of primary and secondary education in France,
+speaking of what has been done since the close of the war in 1871, and
+of what yet remains to be done.
+
+
+PRIMARY EDUCATION.
+
+The great crying evil in France is the lack of education among the
+poorer classes, who nevertheless, by the democratic constitution of
+their country, are called upon, together with the rich and the middle
+classes, to take their share in the government. This evil is recognized
+in France, and each fresh Assembly meets at Versailles with the
+determination of having primary schools built and of having every child
+taught at least to read and write. But these good intentions are
+terribly hampered by the all-absorbing military appropriations, which,
+swallowing up some 500,000,000 francs annually, do not allow the
+ministers and deputies, well disposed as they are, to appropriate to the
+education of all France a sum much exceeding that expended by the single
+State of Pennsylvania in the same cause. Still, the acknowledgment of
+the existence of the evil is in itself a great step toward remedying it,
+and the France of to-day is making progress in this respect. Before the
+last war, instead of saying with Terence,
+
+    Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto,
+
+the French citizen might rather have cried, "I am a _Frenchman_, and
+that which is not French is foreign to me." A salutary reaction has set
+in since the war, and nothing is more common than to hear Frenchmen
+observe that their country was conquered not by Moltke or Krupp, but
+rather by the German _Schullehrer_.
+
+We shall not enter into the merits of the long-standing dispute in
+France as to the superiority of secular or of clerical education. The
+parable of the mote and the beam might probably be applicable to both
+parties, but no impartial observer can fail to recognize that the
+triumph of Romanism in France, consequent upon the Revocation of the
+Edict of Nantes, has formed one of the chief obstacles to the
+development of public education in that country. Huss, Luther,
+Calvin--in a word, all the leaders of the Reformation--inculcated the
+sacred duty devolving upon every man of reading the Bible for himself in
+his own tongue. Hence we now find education far more advanced in
+Protestant than in Catholic countries--a fact which has not a little
+contributed to the decadence of the Latin races. Richelieu, who held
+that a hungry people was the most submissive, was also of opinion that
+an ignorant people obeyed the most readily. Louis XIV. and Louis XV.,
+without saying as much, acted up to the cardinal's maxim, doing
+absolutely nothing for popular education. The instruction of the upper
+classes was at that time in the hands of religious societies or
+_congregations_. The Revolution, displaying its usual iconoclastic zeal,
+upset this system, without reflecting for a moment that it might be as
+well to substitute some other system for it, and that it takes time to
+organize a body of teachers fit to undertake such a work. The
+Convention decreed that those parents should be punished who did not
+send their children to school, overlooking the fact that there were no
+schools to send them to. It proclaimed gratuitous instruction, but made
+no provision for the salaries of the teachers. These hastily instituted
+reforms were eminently characteristic of the feverish excitement amidst
+which matters affecting the most serious interests of the nation were
+disposed of. The First Empire and the Restoration saw but little done on
+behalf of primary education. Under Louis Philippe the question of
+gratuitous instruction and compulsory attendance got no farther,
+notwithstanding the fact of such men being in power as Victor Cousin,
+Villemain and Guizot.
+
+The efforts of Jules Simon and of Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire to have the
+question settled by the Republican government in 1848 proved futile.
+Napoleon III., having found 44,000 schools in France at the commencement
+of his reign, left it with 54,000 at its close--a most insignificant
+rate of increase, as regards primary instruction, compared with the
+advances made in the same direction by foreign nations, and with the
+material progress of France itself during those eighteen eventful years.
+The Third Republic has, as was observed above, given to the question of
+education a prominent place among the reforms to be instituted. Scarcely
+had the most pressing financial and military questions been dealt with
+ere a searching examination into the educational system of the country
+was undertaken and its defects laid bare. In a report on primary and
+secondary education in different countries, read by M. Levasseur before
+the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences on the 29th of May, 1875, he
+establishes the fact that out of forty-five nations whose educational
+statistics he had examined, France only occupies the twentieth
+place--naturally a somewhat humiliating admission for a nation which has
+claimed to be the centre and radiating-point of modern civilization.
+
+The map on which the departments figure tinged with black
+proportionately with the illiteracy of their inhabitants is in mourning
+to a most lamentable extent. It might be taken for the geological map of
+Pennsylvania, with the coal-regions indicated by black patches; and most
+assuredly the Lehigh Valley would appear no darker on such a map than
+does on the chart of ignorance the unfortunate department of the Ariege,
+with 66 per cent. of its inhabitants absolutely illiterate. Happily,
+since this map was issued matters have somewhat mended; nevertheless,
+the lack of appreciation of the benefits of education is still very
+noticeable in a large number of the departments.
+
+The village schools are kept up by the communes, aided by contributions
+from the department and from the government. The total annual amount of
+the contributions from these three sources does not exceed 65,000,000
+francs for the whole of France. Deduct from this paltry sum of
+$13,000,000 a certain quota for the construction and keeping in repair
+of school-houses, and it will at once be seen that what remains to be
+divided among the 54,000 teachers is scarcely sufficient to afford them
+even the barest subsistence. The recent reduction of school-teachers'
+salaries throughout the United States has given rise to much unfavorable
+comment, but happy indeed would teachers in France consider themselves
+were they to receive even anything approaching the reduced pay of their
+Transatlantic brethren. Of the school-teachers above spoken of, 26,000
+receive 750 francs ($150) per annum, 14,000 receive 550 francs, and
+10,000 but 450 francs, or less than the common farm-laborer, who has at
+least food and lodging provided for him by his master. True it is that
+many of the teachers receive a slight additional salary for acting as
+secretary at the _mairie_; but a much larger number of them have to eke
+out a scanty subsistence by manual labor during certain hours of the
+day, especially in harvest-time.
+
+As for the school-houses, they are usually in such a dilapidated
+condition that the farmers would scarcely care to use them as
+cattle-sheds. We have visited schools--and they exist by the score, not
+to say by the hundred--without either benches or desks, blackboard or
+maps, and through the roofs of which the rain poured on teachers and
+pupils. On entering one of these schools and seeing the little fellows
+in their torn blouses, their feet simply encased in great wooden sabots,
+their lunch-baskets with coarse bread and a few nuts by their side, the
+stranger can hardly realize that he is in that country where there is a
+more even distribution of property, and where the peasantry are more
+prosperous and conservative, than anywhere else. Among the efforts made
+to improve things may be mentioned the frequent inspections, not only by
+government inspectors, but also by gentlemen called _delegues
+cantonaux,_ who are usually chosen from among the landed proprietary of
+the neighborhood by the prefects.
+
+"Paris is not France," is a remark frequently uttered by French
+conservatives, and one which certainly holds good as regards education.
+The department of the Seine actually expends some $6,000,000 annually on
+education, which is something over 46 per cent. of the total expenditure
+for all France under this head. Considering that the population of the
+department of the Seine does not exceed 2,400,000, it will be seen that
+the expenditure there for educational purposes is not inferior to that
+of our own representative States. At the Vienna Exhibition of 1873 it
+may be recollected that Paris, conjointly with Saxony and Sweden, was
+awarded the diploma of honor for primary instruction. This branch of
+education is absolutely gratuitous, and, in view of the experience of
+other countries, is likely to remain so, in spite of the outcry that
+parents able to contribute toward the education of their offspring
+should be compelled to do so. Ink, paper, pens, books, models and maps
+are supplied free of charge to each pupil. During 1876 not less than
+330,000 books, 1,490,000 copy-books and 1,440,000 steel pens were thus
+supplied in the primary schools of the capital. In Paris there are some
+260,000 children of both sexes old enough to go to school. Of this
+number, 104,000 get some kind of education, either at home or at the
+boarding-schools, and 134,000 attend the public schools--either under
+secular or clerical management--and the _salles d'asile_, of which we
+shall presently speak. The great capital thus contains some 22,000
+children who cannot read or write, and this will account for the fact of
+the educational status of the department of the Seine being inferior to
+that of many of the eastern departments, and occupying a far lower place
+on the list than might otherwise have been expected. Up to the age of
+two years the infants of parents too poor to watch over their offspring
+in the daytime are admitted into the _creches_. In these admirable
+private institutions--founded some thirty years ago by M. Marbeau--the
+infants are washed, fed and tended with maternal solicitude. Between the
+ages of two and six years the children are admitted into the _salles
+d'asile_, or children's homes, of which there are over a hundred in
+Paris. There it is first sought to develop the child's intellectual
+faculties, prepare it for school, inculcate habits of cleanliness and
+morality, and instruct it in the rudiments of reading and writing.
+Between the ages of six and fourteen children are admitted into the
+schools, and, nominally at least, go through the plan of study drawn up
+by the board of primary education, and which is as follows: Reading,
+writing, geography, spelling, arithmetic, compendium of sacred and
+French history, linear drawing, singing, the rudiments of physics,
+geometry and natural history, and calligraphy. Were this programme
+carried out in its integrity, education in France would, it need hardly
+be said, be considerably further advanced than it is at present. Even in
+Paris, however, the material obstacles are not slight. Most of the
+schools are far too cramped for space, especially in those wealthy and
+crowded parts of the city between the Rue de Rivoli and the Boulevards,
+for instance, where every foot of ground and every breathing-space are
+worth large sums of money. In a city where the people are so closely
+packed, and where a family is content to live on a flat, how is room to
+be found for spacious, airy school-buildings, with a detached seat and
+desk for each pupil, a large central hall and a play-ground adjoining?
+Such establishments must inevitably cost immense sums of money, but
+Paris, if we may judge by the annual increase in the educational
+appropriations, seems determined not to let this difficulty stand in the
+way of her children obtaining a good education.
+
+A word as to the teachers. The female lay teachers are, it must be
+acknowledged, very greatly inferior to the lady teachers in the United
+States. It is said that in England when a man has failed at everything
+else he becomes a coal-merchant. We should not dream of applying this
+remark to French ladies as regards school-teaching. At the same time, it
+is an established fact that the French girls' schools which are managed
+by nuns, and especially those of the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, are
+far above the other female educational establishments. Most of the male
+lay teachers are appointed from the primary normal schools which exist
+in the chief town of every department; and it is a noteworthy fact that
+the majority of them are ardent Republicans, notwithstanding the fact
+that during the Empire every effort was made to win them over to the
+imperial side. In every normal and primary school was the bust of
+Napoleon, and a liberal distribution took place of the famous _Journal
+des Instituteurs_, every paragraph of which, political or educational,
+was dressed up in Napoleonic attire. Possibly, some of the lay primary
+school-teachers may have adopted republicanism out of a spirit of
+natural opposition to their old adversaries and competitors, the
+_instituteurs congreganistes_. Of these, too, a word must be said. While
+in the secondary clerical schools most of the instructors are Jesuits,
+in the primary schools most of the teachers belong to the confraternity
+of the _Ecole Chretienne_, the members of which, without taking the vows
+and assuming a lifelong engagement, agree nevertheless to remain single,
+to submit to the discipline of the society and to wear the
+ecclesiastical dress. Strict Ultramontanists, these brethren have been
+somewhat unjustly nicknamed the _freres Ignorantins_. Living as they do
+in common, with but few wants, and receiving, whenever they require it,
+pecuniary aid from the wealthy party to which they belong, they are
+satisfied with a rate of pay less than one-half that of the lay
+teachers, and are thus preferred in a large number of communes on the
+simple ground of economy. Their plan of instruction is the same as that
+adopted in the secular primary schools, except that religious
+instruction and exercises of course play a larger part with them than
+with their lay brethren. The ultra radicals, who in a large measure
+control the educational appropriations in the town-council, are bitterly
+opposed to any portion of the public instruction remaining in the hands
+of the clerical element, and their most strenuous efforts are used to
+have all these _congregational_ schools of both sexes closed. They would
+concentrate the entire national educational system under the control of
+a body of lay teachers to be paid by the towns and by the state. In
+these views they are supported by the Republican party, while the clergy
+have on their side the majority of the Senate. Whether the absence of
+clerical competition would be likely to prove advantageous or not to the
+secular educational establishments, we shall not attempt to say, but
+certain it is that the long continuance of this bitter feud between the
+two parties has been anything but conducive to the educational progress
+of France.
+
+At the age of fourteen the Parisian youth not intended for one of the
+learned professions leaves school to learn a trade. Should he desire to
+increase his stock of knowledge and have a taste for study, he can,
+after passing an examination, enter the excellent Ecole Turgot, wherein
+the programme of the primary schools is somewhat extended, without,
+however, embracing the study of Latin and Greek. At the Turgot the
+course comprises mathematics, linear and ornamental drawing, physics and
+mechanics, chemistry, natural history, calligraphy, bookkeeping, French
+language and literature, history, geography, English and German. All the
+pupils are day scholars. There could probably be no better devised
+programme for developing and exercising the intellectual faculties of
+those who have gone through the primary schools, and it may
+unhesitatingly be affirmed that for most of the pupils the training
+received at the Ecole Turgot is of lifelong value.
+
+If a youth aim yet higher, he can apply for admittance at the College
+Chaptal, where he may eventually obtain gratuitously a classical
+education, and at its close a university degree. From the Chaptal
+school--the new building devoted to which forms a conspicuous feature on
+the Boulevard des Batignolles--the pupil may, on passing an examination,
+enter either of the two higher colleges, the Central or the Polytechnic.
+Then, too, the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers may be looked on in the
+light of a magnificent annex to the schools of primary instruction. The
+idea of such an institution originated with the celebrated mechanician
+of the last century, Vaucanson, who bequeathed to the government his
+splendid collection of models, drawings, tools, machines and automatons.
+The Convention decreed the establishment of the Conservatoire, which now
+contains some 12,000 models in its industrial museum. Among them may be
+mentioned Pascal's arithmetical machine, Lavoisier's instruments, the
+first highway locomotive constructed by Cugniot in 1770, a lock forged
+by Louis XVI., clocks and watches of historic interest, and those
+patents which have run out by lapse of time. The machinery is set in
+motion at certain hours of the day, during which the public is admitted
+free. The library, rich in works of science, art and industry, is always
+open. In the evening there are gratuitous lectures delivered by men of
+science on such subjects as geometry, mechanics and chemistry applied to
+the arts, industrial and agricultural chemistry, agriculture,
+spinning-looms, dyeing, etc. The Conservatoire turns out the best
+foremen and heads of workshops to be found in Paris. It occupies the
+fine old building once used as the abbey of St. Martin des Champs, which
+has been tastefully restored in the original style, and takes up one of
+the sides of a handsome square laid out with flowers and fountains.
+
+Nor must we pass over entirely unnoticed the admirable gratuitous
+lectures given by the Polytechnic Association--_not_ the Polytechnic
+School--on such subjects as hygiene, linear drawing, French grammar,
+bookkeeping and geometry. These lectures are held in some twenty
+different buildings, so as to be within the reach of the
+working-classes, no matter what part of Paris they may reside in. Among
+the lecturers in recent years are to be found such names as those of
+Ferdinand de Lesseps, Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Barral and Batbie.
+
+We have thus rapidly seen what Paris does for her poor youth. The city
+has often been called the focus of light and the centre of intelligence.
+Without going quite so far as this, it must nevertheless be acknowledged
+that with her public schools, her splendid libraries, her museums, her
+natural history and art collections, and her very numerous and valuable
+institutions open free to all, Paris affords unusual facilities for
+boys, taken even from the lowest strata of society, to rise by dint of
+hard study, a firm will and exemplary conduct to the very highest
+positions.
+
+
+SECONDARY EDUCATION.
+
+In France, children of parents in easy circumstances do not go to the
+primary schools at all. Every man occupying a higher social position
+than that of a mechanic does his utmost to procure for his children an
+education which shall place them above what the French call "the common
+people." Even a small farmer, with but a few thousand dollars at his
+command, strives to place his son in an institution where the higher
+cultivation of the intellectual faculties, the dress worn, and the very
+bearing, shall distinguish him from one of "the people." It need hardly
+be said that such a system as this, so diametrically opposed to that
+which prevails in the United States, tends to foster somewhat of
+jealousy and bitterness among the lower classes. As for those who have
+received this higher education, they would, as a general rule, consider
+it derogatory to their dignity ever in after life to perform any manual
+labor: this they leave to the illiterate and to those who have only
+attended the primary schools. The result may be imagined in the case of
+those whose parents, having paid their eight or nine years' schooling,
+are unable to do anything more for their offspring when they leave
+college. They cannot all earn their living in a professional capacity,
+or in the literary field, or as government employes, or, to be brief, in
+one of those situations which a graduate _can_ accept; and those who
+fail, insensibly and by degrees fall into the ranks of the _declasses_.
+The common workman may occasionally and for a short period suffer
+privation and want, but that becomes the chronic condition of the poor
+graduate. He becomes a misanthrope, hates his fellow-beings and resorts
+to petty shifts in order to live. Gradually his sense of honor and his
+moral feelings get weaker and weaker, and finally disappear altogether.
+Then he becomes one of those men who, like the conspirators denounced by
+Corneille,
+
+    Si tout n'est renverse ne sauraient subsister.
+
+These men take a prominent part in every _emeute_, haranguing the
+populace, propagating socialistic theories, and gaining a baneful
+influence over the uneducated and the discontented among the workingmen,
+thus causing that bloodshed and destruction of which Paris has so often
+been the scene. Probably no more vivid picture of the life of these
+unfortunate persons has ever been drawn than that which Jules Valles has
+given us in his _Refractaires_. Most eloquently does he describe the
+vain hopes and reveries by which these men are elated, and the poignant
+misery they suffer. Valles, it will be recollected, was a Communist, a
+member of that revolutionary government which contained so many of these
+_declasses_.
+
+Far be it from us to desire to limit the higher education to the
+children of the rich. By all means let every man in a position to do so
+give his sons the benefit of the secondary education. The fittest will
+always survive, the weakest inevitably go to the wall. At the same time,
+there are certain modifications which all will admit may be introduced
+with advantage into the present system, and these will become apparent
+as we proceed.
+
+Secondary education is imparted in the national lyceums, which are
+established and governed by the state, and which now exist in eighty out
+of the eighty-six departments; in the municipal colleges, which are
+established and governed by the towns; and in the private colleges, the
+majority of which are kept by religious fraternities.
+
+The most celebrated of the private colleges are Arcueil and Soreze, both
+of which belong to the Dominicans. The principal professors at Arcueil
+were, it will be recollected, taken to La Roquette in 1871, and there
+shot with Archbishop Darboy and the other hostages. Soreze will not be
+forgotten so long as the memory of Lacordaire lives. The Fathers of the
+Oratory own the college of Juilly, where Berryer and Montalembert were
+educated. It was to this order that belonged the illustrious Massillon a
+century and a half ago, and Father Gratry in our own time. As for the
+Jesuits, their colleges are distributed over the whole of France, and
+are distinguished for their comfort and elegance, their spacious halls,
+their fine grounds and the excellent gymnasia attached thereto. Their
+superiority over the national lyceums leads to the fact of their being
+as well attended as the latter, although pupils at the Jesuits' colleges
+pay three times as much as at the government schools. The large college
+of the Jesuits in the Rue des Postes at Paris furnishes a heavy
+contingent to St. Cyr and the polytechnic schools. The Stanislas
+College, although a private institution, has its corps of professors
+appointed by the Minister of Public Instruction, and its pupils are
+privileged to take part in the general examinations of the lyceum
+pupils. M. John Lemoinne, the eminent writer for the _Journal des
+Debats_, was educated at the Stanislas College, all the pupils of which,
+it may be mentioned, are day scholars. At the Rollin College only
+boarders are admitted.
+
+There are quite a number of foreign colleges at Paris, such as the
+Egyptian, the Japanese, the Armenian and the Polish colleges. The former
+Irish college, now called _College des Fondations britanniques_, is
+under the patronage of the French Minister of Education. It is here that
+young men speaking the English language are specially educated for the
+priesthood, the whole of the instruction being given in English and the
+management being in the hands of British and Irish ecclesiastics. About
+15,200 scholars attend the private colleges in Paris.
+
+Proceeding now to speak of the actual condition of the _lycees_, or
+lyceums, it may at once be stated that boarders at one of these
+establishments in Paris pay from $200 to $300 annually, and in the
+provinces from $150 to $200, according to age. Considering that this one
+charge covers board, instruction, books, washing, clothes, writing
+materials, medical attendance and medicine, it will readily be
+understood that the income from this source is totally inadequate to
+meet the outlays. The government, besides providing a large number of
+gratuitous scholarships, makes up the deficit, whatever it may be, and
+thus really maintains the lyceums. There are in Paris five national
+lycees, besides the lyceum at Vanves, situated at a little distance to
+the south of the capital, at what was once the villa of the prince de
+Conde, on the Vaugirard route. At Vanves the younger pupils have the
+opportunity afforded them of pursuing their studies in the country, and
+only entering one of the Paris lycees when they have worked themselves
+into the fifth class. The most famous as well as the largest of the
+lyceums of Paris is the Lycee Descartes, formerly called the Lycee
+Louis-le-Grand. It stands in the Rue St. Jacques, on the spot formerly
+occupied by the Jesuits' College de Clermont, which was founded in 1563,
+and confiscated when the Jesuits were expelled from France by the duc de
+Choiseul in 1764. As is well known, Moliere and Voltaire, two of the
+bitterest enemies of the Jesuits, were educated at the College de
+Clermont. At Louis-le-Grand were also educated Crebillon, the author of
+the _Sopha_; Gresset, the writer of _Vert-vert_; Robespierre, Camille
+Desmoulins, Cremieux, Eugene Delacroix, Victor Hugo; the eminent surgeon
+Dupuytren; Jules Janin, Villemain, Littre and Laboulaye. At present 540
+of its 1200 pupils are day scholars.
+
+Sainte-Barbe, the most celebrated of the free colleges of Paris, sends
+its pupils to the course of instruction at the Lycee Descartes.
+Sainte-Barbe was founded in 1460 by the Abbe Lenormand, and reorganized
+after the Revolution by Delaneau: it stands in the Place du Pantheon, on
+a small plot of ground, and is so thickly surrounded by buildings that
+the play-ground is not even large enough for the pupils to move about
+in. The younger among them are therefore sent to the branch of the
+school at Fontenay-aux-Roses, a stately chateau with spacious grounds.
+Both Ignatius Loyola, who founded the order of Jesus, and Calvin, who
+did his best to destroy it, were educated at Sainte-Barbe, as were also
+in more modern times Eugene Scribe, the singer Nourrit, the celebrated
+painter in water-colors Eugene Lamy, and General Trochu. The present
+director of Sainte-Barbe is M. Dubief, formerly inspector of the Academy
+of Paris, and who succeeded in 1865 the lamented M. Labrouste, to whose
+untiring exertions Sainte-Barbe owes in great part the high reputation
+it has enjoyed in recent times.
+
+On the Boulevard St. Michel, on the spot where once stood the old
+College d'Harcourt, is the Lycee St. Louis, now called, after the famous
+mathematician, the Lycee Monge. Although the Lycee Monge is specially
+devoted to scientific training, it has numbered among its pupils Charles
+Gounod the composer and Egger the Hellenist.
+
+In the rear of the Pantheon, on the site of the abbey of Ste. Genevieve,
+founded by Clovis in 510, stands the Lycee Corneille, formerly called
+the Lycee Napoleon, and before that the College Henri IV. To the
+archaeologist the cellars, the kitchens, the chapel and the old tower of
+the twelfth century cannot fail to prove of the greatest interest, while
+the remainder of the structure, built during the reign of Louis XIV.,
+makes this unquestionably the finest of the lyceums of Paris. At the
+Lycee Corneille were educated Casimir Delavigne (whose bust by David
+d'Angers adorns the interior), Sainte-Beuve, Haussmann, Alfred de
+Musset, St. Marc Girardin, Emile Augier, Remusat, the prince de
+Joinville and the dukes of Nemours, Aumale, Montpensier and Chartres.
+The three lyceums above mentioned are on the left bank, the remaining
+two on the right bank, of the Seine.
+
+In the Rue Caumartin, near the Havre railway-station, on the site of the
+Capuchins' convent, stands the Lycee Condorcet, or, as it was called
+until recently, the Lycee Bonaparte. All the pupils are day scholars,
+and most of them come from the adjacent wealthy district of the Chaussee
+d'Antin, the Boulevards and the Madeleine. Among the pupils of this
+aristocratic educational establishment may be named J. J. Ampere,
+Alexandre Dumas _fils_, Adolphe Adam the composer, Edmond and Jules de
+Goncourt the novelists, Alphonse Karr, Henry Monnier, Nadar, Taine,
+Eugene Sue; the mulatto Schaelcher, now Senator of France; the celebrated
+Jesuit Father Ravignan, and the poet Theodore de Banville.
+
+The Lycee Charlemagne is in a building in the Rue St. Antoine, formerly
+used as the Jesuits' convent. Being situated in one of the poorest
+sections of Paris, the children from which as a rule do not get beyond
+the primary schools, it receives most of its scholars from the numerous
+boarding-schools of the Quartier du Marais. Among the many well-known
+names formerly on the roll of the Lycee Charlemagne are those of Gustave
+Dore, Theophile Gautier, Admiral Jurien de la Graviere, Michelet; the
+dramatic critic Francisque Sarcey; Got the comedian, and Buffet the
+statesman.
+
+These five lyceums of Paris, with their 7500 day scholars and boarders,
+and the eighty lyceums in the provinces, have precisely the same
+programme and rules of government throughout. The boarders are divided
+into three sections, the first being for the _petits_--viz., boys
+averaging from seven to twelve, who are instructed in the elementary
+course, comprising the eighth and seventh classes; the second is for the
+_moyens_, who receive instruction in the grammar course, comprising the
+sixth, fifth and fourth classes; the third is for the _grands_, who,
+taking their place in the third and second classes, proceed with the
+higher course, embracing rhetoric, philosophy, and, if desired, special
+mathematics. Although at playtime the boys meet in a common play-ground,
+during school-hours they are distributed in different rooms or studies
+(_etudes_), one class generally corresponding to a study. There is thus
+the eighth, fourth or second study, just as there is the eighth, fourth
+or second class. The professors--of whom there are from fifteen to
+thirty, the number of boys ranging from three hundred to twelve
+hundred--superintend the classes, while the dozen poor, ill-paid ushers
+have to keep order in the _etudes_. The scholars signify their contempt
+for the ushers--officially known as _maitres repetiteurs_--by nicknaming
+them _pions_ or watch-dogs. Yet not an usher but is appointed, like all
+others engaged in the lycee, by the minister. Each one of them has
+obtained his degree as bachelor, and many only accept the situation as a
+means of economically pursuing their studies toward the higher degrees
+and fellowships. Where the class is a large one, the corresponding study
+is usually divided into two, so as to reduce the number in one _etude_
+to about thirty. The lads making up each _etude_ sleep in one dormitory
+on little iron bedsteads, only separated from each other by the width of
+the bed. The usher in charge sleeps at the extremity of the dormitory,
+his bed being the only one provided with curtains.
+
+A boy entering the lyceum at seven or eight years of age has already
+learned the rudiments, and is accordingly placed in the eighth class. In
+those exceptional cases where the boy comes to school unable to read or
+write he passes the first year in the preparatory class. In the eighth
+class, and the next year in the seventh, he is taught French grammar,
+spelling, arithmetic, sacred history and elementary Latin exercises and
+translation. In the sixth and fifth and the fourth classes the Latin
+authors the boy has to study become gradually more and more difficult.
+The professor of history who accompanies the students throughout their
+lyceum course, instructs them as they advance each year to a higher
+class, in Greek and Roman history and modern and ancient geography. So
+also the professors of English and German, of physics, natural history
+and mathematics keep up with their pupils, and guide their studies, each
+in his special branch, until they graduate. Drawing and music are also
+taught without extra charge two hours a week, but those children whose
+parents really desire them to make progress in these special branches
+have to take--and pay extra for--private lessons called _repetitions_.
+In the third and second classes, as also when the pupils are going
+through the course of rhetoric, Greek as well as Latin is studied,
+together with the French classic authors, Corneille, Racine, Moliere,
+Bossuet, Boileau, La Bruyere, La Fontaine, Fenelon, Massillon and some
+of Voltaire's works. The history of France is also studied, but scarcely
+with that thoroughness which characterizes the study of history in the
+German gymnasia.
+
+The pupil's last year is passed in the philosophy class, formerly called
+the logic class, which is specially devoted to the study of the human
+understanding; thus, as Mr. Matthew Arnold well puts it, "making the
+pupil busy himself with the substance of ideas, as in rhetoric he busied
+himself with their form, and developing his reflection as rhetoric
+developed his imagination and taste." During this last year, however,
+classic studies are pursued with none the less vigor, for on his
+proficiency in these branches depends very largely the student's success
+at the second and final examination for his degree. It is only since
+1874 that this examination has been divided into two parts--the first
+at the close of the year of rhetoric, the second at the close of the
+year of philosophy, the student being required to pass on both
+occasions. Each of the two examinations is divided into the _epreuve
+ecrite_ and the _epreuve orale_. In the latter the candidate is examined
+generally on all the subjects studied. The epreuve ecrite consists, the
+first year, of a translation and Latin discourse--the second year, of a
+Latin dissertation and a French dissertation. Those educated in Paris
+have to pass their examination at the Sorbonne, while those educated in
+the provinces are examined by one of the sixteen faculties of France, at
+Poitiers, Caen, Toulouse, Bordeaux, etc. It is scarcely necessary to
+observe that the bachelor's degree confers no sort of privilege in
+France. The diploma which attests to its recipient having passed through
+a regular course of classical study opens up no career to him, but
+_with_ this diploma he can study law or medicine or qualify for the
+special schools, such as the Polytechnic, St. Cyr and the normal
+schools, and on leaving these his position is assured.
+
+The life led by the boarders at the _lycees_ is as follows: At six
+o'clock in summer, and at half-past six in winter, the pupils get up at
+the sound of the drum. Ten minutes are allowed for dressing, and then
+they all march in procession to the preparation-room. One of the lads
+recites a short prayer in Latin, after which the boys study till
+half-past seven. They then proceed to the refectory, where all the
+pupils breakfast together, ten minutes being allowed for the meal.
+Thence the boys go into the play-ground, where the ranks are broken and
+a quarter of an hour is allowed for play and talk. (Out of the
+play-ground conversation among the pupils is prohibited by the rules,
+and not infrequently those caught talking are punished.) From eight to
+ten the boys are in school; from ten to half-past ten, at play; from
+half-past ten to twelve, in the study, writing exercises, getting ready
+for classes and solving problems. At twelve o'clock, dinner, then play
+till one; from one till two, in the study, learning by heart lessons
+for recitation; from two till four, school; from four to five, play;
+from five to half-past seven in the study, where the exercises for the
+following morning are written. At half-past seven, supper, then another
+prayer in Latin, and then to bed. On Thursdays and Sundays there are no
+classes, but the boys have their hours of study as on other days, and
+fill up the time by a two-hours' walk in marching array, either in the
+city or (if weather permit) in the country. Once a week in Paris, once a
+fortnight in the provinces, a boy may go out for a holiday if his
+parents or persons authorized by his parents come and take him from
+school. He is allowed to see his parents or those representing them any
+day between four and five P.M. in the _parloir_. On Sundays attendance
+at mass and at vespers in the chapel of the lycee is compulsory for
+pupils of the Roman Catholic faith. Pupils belonging to other faiths
+have in Paris every opportunity for attending the services of their
+religion, but in the provinces this is naturally not so easy. The
+regular holidays are the 1st and 2d of January, a week at Easter and two
+months in summer, commencing about the 10th of August. All corporal
+punishment is strictly prohibited. The lads are punished by being kept
+in in play-hours and on holidays, and in grave cases by being confined
+_en sequestre_. It is very rarely that a pupil is expelled--a punishment
+which may in extreme cases entail expulsion from every lyceum in France.
+
+As will have been seen, the life led by the boarders at the lyceums is
+pretty irksome and severe. If a boy's parents live in the city, he can
+simply attend the classes as a day scholar, which experience has proved
+to be the better of the two plans. From a sanitary point of view the
+lyceums do not stand high by any means. Few among them were built on any
+proper model, or, as will have been noticed, even constructed for their
+present use. About four-fifths of them were old colleges belonging to
+religious corporations confiscated at the Revolution, or they were
+formerly convents, and have now been fitted up as well as possible for
+purely educational purposes. The rooms are for the most part so small
+that the lads are crowded and huddled together. On some of the benches
+they have to sit on one side when they want to write. Every lyceum has
+an infirmary, to which are attached two or three Sisters of Charity, and
+the infirmary is often fuller than could be wished. The play-grounds are
+in general miserably small, rarely planted with trees, and ill adapted
+for boys to run about and play in. Some of the boys who are always kept
+in do not get even this poor exercise. The contributions of the
+government for the maintenance of the lyceums being on a somewhat
+parsimonious scale, every kind of economy is practiced. The food,
+without being unwholesome, is far from being agreeable. The lighting of
+the buildings by oil lamps, not by gas, is often insufficient, and may
+possibly explain the fact of so many Frenchmen being short-sighted. The
+rooms are warmed in winter by small stoves, which send out noxious
+vapors.
+
+At the head of every lyceum is a provost (_proviseur_), who is assisted
+by a _censeur_ or superintendent of instruction, by an inspector of
+studies, and by a bursar (_econome_), who controls the finances of the
+establishment. Toward the end of each scholastic year, about July, ten
+or a dozen of the brightest youths are selected from each of the classes
+in the lyceums of Paris, and are made to undergo an examination in
+composition at the Sorbonne. At its close prizes and _accessits_ are
+awarded, and these are distributed about the 15th of August in the
+amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, and in presence of a distinguished
+assemblage under the presidency of the Minister of Public Instruction.
+The minister, having opened the proceedings with a speech in French, is
+followed by one of the professors, who, in accordance with a custom more
+than a century old, makes a speech in Latin. Since 1865 the provincial
+lyceums have competed among themselves, and as the subjects of
+composition are the same as those in the Paris lyceums, an opportunity
+is afforded for observing how very much farther advanced are the
+Parisian establishments than those in the interior. Not only has Paris
+the best professors, but also the best boys, many having been sent
+thither by their parents from the provincial lyceums on their displaying
+marked ability and intelligence. Thus the standard of the Paris lyceums
+is raised. Upon the result of the general examination undergone by the
+pupils of a public or private school depends the estimation in which
+that institution is held by the public. The more prizes taken by a
+lyceum or by an institution sending its pupils to the lyceum
+examinations, the greater will be the number of parents sending their
+children thither. The successful participants who have carried off the
+prizes of honor in special mathematics, philosophy and Latin are exempt
+from military service, while the professors of the class to which they
+belonged are often rewarded with the cross of the Legion of Honor. It
+will therefore be apparent that the heads of the educational
+establishments are, to say the least, quite as much interested in the
+results of the contest as are the pupils themselves. The natural
+consequence is, that the professors devote themselves to cramming those
+pupils whose assiduity and superior intelligence mark them out as fit
+partakers in such a contest. There are sometimes as many as sixty pupils
+in a class in the Paris Lycee, and yet the professor's attention may be
+confined to barely a dozen among them. The rest of the class read
+novels, go to sleep or remain listless during the lesson. The well-known
+writer M. Maxime du Camp may possibly have slightly exaggerated the evil
+when he asserted that "Ceux-la seuls travaillent qui se destinent aux
+ecoles speciales;" but we have no difficulty in believing his statement
+that on one occasion M. Emile Saisset--since a member of the Institute,
+then professor at the Lycee Henri IV.--left the platform, and taking a
+seat facing the front row, where he had got together the six best (_plus
+forts_), began reading to them in a low tone. When one of the other
+pupils began talking too loud, the professor cried out, "Ne faites donc
+pas tant de bruit: vous nous empechez de causer."
+
+But, although these general examinations may operate somewhat
+disadvantageously toward the duller members of the class, it must be
+acknowledged that they have had the effect of inducing many a youth to
+put forth his best efforts in order to attain special distinction, and
+have thus laid the foundation of future success. Among those with whom
+such has been the case may be mentioned the names of Delille the poet,
+La Harpe the critic, Victor Cousin the philosopher, Adrien de Jussieu
+the naturalist, Drouyn de Lhuys, ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs, now
+president of the Agricultural Society of France; Taine, Edmond About,
+Prevost Paradol, etc.
+
+Within the last thirty years the plan of study in the lycees has
+undergone many changes. Each successive Minister of Education has
+instituted some modifications, and the result has generally been an
+improvement. The most thoroughgoing revision took place under M. Jules
+Simon, who was Minister of Public Instruction in 1872. A well-known
+member of the Institute and professor of philosophy, M. Paul Janet, in
+defending the reforms instituted by M. Simon, makes some bold remarks on
+the subject. Secondary education in France is now composed of two
+branches of instruction mingled, which if separated might, according to
+M. Janet, each for itself furnish the materials for a very thorough and
+wide-reaching education. On the one hand is the classical course,
+consisting of Greek and Latin, and on the other what may be termed the
+modern course, composed of French, living foreign languages, history,
+geography, science and physical exercises,--these last embracing
+fencing, gymnastics, gun-practice, etc. Society at the time of the
+Renaissance had to be steeped once again in the study of classical
+literature in order to weld anew the links of that chain which had been
+broken by the invasion of the barbarians. So also, reasons M. Janet, it
+is necessary now for us to be prepared for the new conditions of modern
+and contemporary civilization. This civilization, he goes on to say, is
+marked by three distinguishing characteristics: the prodigious
+development of science and industry; the establishment of political
+institutions more or less liberal; the extension of the means of
+communication between various nations. Therefore he holds that the study
+of science should occupy a more prominent place in the system of French
+instruction. History, useless in a country despotically governed,
+becomes more and more necessary in a free country. Foreign languages and
+the literature of the Teutonic and English-speaking nations must occupy
+a larger place in the new plan of studies.
+
+But the question arises, How can place be found for new studies when
+some of the old ones have to be crowded out? Evidently this can only be
+done by circumscribing within narrower limits classical instruction.
+Now-a-days, says M. Jules Simon, "on apprend les langues vivantes pour
+les parler et les langues mortes pour les lire." The day is past when
+Santeul gained for himself a reputation by his Latin verse, and when
+Cardinal de Polignac refuted Lucretius in his own tongue. Latin
+compositions have become purely artificial exercises, and the art of
+writing Latin must be sacrificed, just as the art of speaking Latin was
+sacrificed a century ago. Therefore it was that M. Simon did away with
+Latin verse. He retained for the present Latin speeches and
+dissertations, but contemplated abolishing these too in the future; and
+he proposed that there should be two kinds of exposition of Latin texts
+in the classes--the one very profound, and where much time should be
+given to but a few lines; the other, on the contrary, very rapid and
+extended, having for its object to exercise the pupil in reading and
+readily understanding what he reads. Since the reforms of 1872 the
+pupils read Latin with not less facility than before; which seems to
+show that Latin verse was not indispensable. It should also be mentioned
+that under M. Simon's auspices a law was made in 1872 requiring every
+pupil to pass an examination before being promoted from a lower to a
+higher class in the lycee. Those who fail in this examination, and who
+do not care to return to the lower class, are transferred to the
+so-called _classes de science_, where the subjects of study are
+mathematics, geometry, physics, chemistry and natural history.
+
+M. Jules Simon retired from his post as Minister of Public Instruction
+under M. Thiers on the 24th of May, 1873, and the reforms he had
+instituted were overthrown by the clerical ministry which followed. The
+Republican elections of the 20th of February, 1876, having been the
+means of once more placing the government in the hands of M. Simon's
+friends, he himself was on the 12th of December last made president of
+the Council of Ministers, while M. Waddington resumed the portfolio of
+Public Instruction. M. Waddington, who besides being a Rugby and
+Cambridge man, has, like M. Simon, taken the doctor's degree at the
+Sorbonne, at once took measures to carry out the liberal and progressive
+reforms we have spoken of. His efforts were, however, frustrated by the
+enforced retirement of the Jules Simon ministry on the 16th of May,
+1877, and the accession of the conservatives to power. There can be
+little doubt that the new ministry will set aside all the reforms
+planned and executed, and will return to the old paths until the seesaw
+of public opinion in France shall once more re-establish the
+Simon-Waddington reforms.
+
+As has been shown, the progress made in the system of secondary
+instruction in France is but slow: indeed, it may be compared to that of
+certain pilgrims, who in fulfillment of their vows take three steps
+forward and two backward. Nevertheless, these party struggles and
+tentative efforts cannot fail in the end to result in a marked
+definitive improvement in the educational system. Before all things, it
+was necessary that the fallibility of the old system and of the
+antiquated shibboleths of instruction, which had hitherto exercised
+undisputed sway, be recognized. The rest will follow in due time.
+Whether minister or not, M. Jules Simon may justly claim the credit of
+having brought about a salutary educational crisis, the effects of which
+will be felt by the next, if not by the present, generation.
+
+                             C. H. HARDING.
+
+
+
+
+THE MARQUIS OF LOSSIE.
+
+BY GEORGE MACDONALD, AUTHOR OF "MALCOLM."
+
+
+CHAPTER LVII.
+
+THE SHORE.
+
+It was two days after the longest day of the year, when there is no
+night in those regions, only a long twilight in which many dream and do
+not know it. There had been a few days of variable weather, with sudden
+changes of wind to east and north, and round again by south to west, and
+then there had been a calm for several days. But now the little wind
+there was blew from the north-east, and the fervor of a hot June was
+rendered more delicious by the films of flavoring cold that floated
+through the mass of heat. All Portlossie more or less, the Seaton
+especially, was in a state of excitement, for its little neighbor
+Scaurnose was more excited still. There the man most threatened, and
+with greatest injustice, was the only one calm amongst the men, and
+amongst the women his wife was the only one that was calmer than he.
+Blue Peter was resolved to abide the stroke of wrong, and not resist the
+powers that were, believing them in some true sense--which he found it
+hard to understand when he thought of the factor as the individual
+instance--ordained of God. He had a dim perception too that it was
+better that one, and that one he, should suffer, than that order should
+be destroyed and law defied. Suffering, he might still in patience
+possess his soul, and all be well with him; but what would become of the
+country if every one wronged were to take the law into his own hands?
+Thousands more would be wronged by the lawless in a week than by unjust
+powers in a year. But the young men were determined to pursue their plan
+of resistance, and those of the older and soberer who saw the
+uselessness of it gave themselves little trouble to change the minds of
+the rest. Peter, although he knew they were not at rest, neither
+inquired what their purpose might be, nor allowed any conjecture or
+suspicion concerning it to influence him in his preparations for
+departure. Not that he had found a new home. Indeed, he had not heartily
+set about searching for one--in part because, unconsciously to himself,
+he was buoyed up by the hope he read so clear in the face of his more
+trusting wife that Malcolm would come to deliver them. His plan was to
+leave her and his children with certain friends at Port Gordon: he would
+not hear of going to the Partans to bring them into trouble. He would
+himself set out immediately after for the Lewis fishing. Few had gone
+from Scaurnose or Portlossie. The magnitude of the events that were
+about to take place, yet more the excitement and interest they
+occasioned, kept the most of the men at home, and they contented
+themselves with fishing the waters of the Moray Frith--not without
+notable success. But what was success with such a tyrant over them as
+the factor, threatening to harry their nests and turn the sea-birds and
+their young out of their heritage of rock and sand and shingle? They
+could not keep house on the waves any more than the gulls. Those who
+still held their religious assemblies in the cave called the Baillies'
+Barn met often, read and sang the comminatory psalms more than any
+others, and prayed much against the wiles and force of their enemies
+both temporal and spiritual; while Mr. Crathie went every Sunday to
+church, grew redder in the nose and hotter in the temper.
+
+Miss Horn was growing more and more uncomfortable concerning events, and
+dissatisfied with Malcolm. She had not for some time heard from him, and
+here was his most important duty unattended to--she would not yet say
+neglected--the well-being of his tenantry left in the hands of an
+unsympathetic, self-important underling, who was fast losing all the
+good sense he had once possessed! Were the life and history of all
+these brave fishermen and their wives and children to be postponed to
+the pampered feelings of one girl, and that because she was what she had
+no right to be--namely, his half-sister? said Miss Horn to herself, that
+bosom friend to whom some people, and those not the worst, say oftener
+what they do not mean than what they do. She had written to him within
+the last month a very hot letter indeed, which had afforded no end of
+amusement to Mrs. Catanach as she sat in his old lodging over the
+curiosity-shop, but, I need hardly say, had not reached Malcolm; and now
+there was but one night and the best of all the fisher families would
+have nowhere to lie down. Miss Horn, with Joseph Mair, thought she did
+well to be angry with Malcolm.
+
+The blind piper had been very restless all day. Questioned again and
+again by his Mistress Partan as to what was amiss with him, he had given
+her odd and evasive answers. Every few minutes he got up--even from
+cleaning her lamp--to go to the shore. He had not far to go to reach
+it--had but to cross the threshold, and take a few steps through the
+_close_, and he was on the road that ran along the sea-front of the
+village. On the one side were the cottages, scattered and huddled--on
+the other, the shore and ocean, wide outstretched. He would walk
+straight across the road until he felt the sand under his feet; there
+stand for a few moments facing the sea, and, with nostrils distended,
+breathing deep breaths of the air from the north-east, then turn and
+walk back to Meg Partan's kitchen and resume his ministration of light.
+These his sallies were so frequent, and his absences so short, that a
+more serene temper than hers might have been fretted by them. But there
+was something about his look and behavior that, while it perplexed,
+restrained her, and instead of breaking out upon him she eyed him
+curiously. She had found that it would not do to stare at him. The
+moment she began to do so he began to fidget, and turned his back to
+her. It had made her lose her temper for a moment, and declare aloud as
+her conviction that he was after all an impostor, and saw as well as any
+of them.
+
+"She has told you so, Mistress Partan, one hundred thousand times,"
+replied Duncan with an odd smile; "and perhaps she will pe see a little
+petter as any of you, no matter."
+
+Thereupon she murmured to herself, "The cratur' 'ill be seein'
+something!" and with mingled awe and curiosity sought to lay some
+restraint upon her unwelcome observation of him.
+
+Thus it went on the whole day, and as the evening approached he grew
+still more excited. The sun went down and the twilight began, and as the
+twilight deepened still his excitement grew. Straightway it seemed as if
+the whole Seaton had come to share in it. Men and women were all out of
+doors; and, late as it was when the sun set, to judge by the number of
+bare legs and feet that trotted in and out with a little red flash, with
+a dull patter-pat on earthen floor and hard road, and a scratching and
+hustling among the pebbles, there could not have been one older than a
+baby in bed; while of the babies even not a few were awake in their
+mothers' arms, and out with them on the sea-front, where the men, with
+their hands in their trouser-pockets, were lazily smoking pigtail in
+short clay pipes with tin covers fastened to the stems by little chains,
+and some of the women, in short blue petticoats and worsted stockings,
+were doing the same. Some stood in their doors, talking with neighbors
+standing in their doors, but these were mostly the elder women: the
+younger ones--all but Lizzy Findlay--were out in the road. One man half
+leaned, half sat on the window-sill of Duncan's former abode, and round
+him were two or three more, and some women, talking about Scaurnose, and
+the factor, and what the lads there would do to-morrow; while the hush
+of the sea on the pebbles mingled with their talk like an unknown tongue
+of the Infinite--never articulating, only suggesting--uttering in song
+and not in speech--dealing not with thoughts, but with feelings and
+foretastes. No one listened: what to them was the Infinite, with
+Scaurnose in the near distance? It was now almost as dark as it would be
+throughout the night if it kept clear.
+
+Once more there was Duncan, standing as if looking out to sea, and
+shading his brows with his hand as if to protect his eyes from the glare
+of the sun and enable his sight.
+
+"There's the auld piper again!" said one of the group, a young woman.
+"He's unco fule-like to be stan'in' that gait (_way_), makin' as gien he
+cudna weel see for the sun in 's een."
+
+"Haud ye yer tongue, lass," rejoined an elderly woman beside her.
+"There's mair things nor ye ken, as the Beuk says. There's een 'at can
+see an' een 'at canna, an' een 'at can see twise ower, an' een 'at can
+see steikit what nane can see open."
+
+"Ta poat! ta poat of my chief!" cried the seer. "She is coming like a
+tream of ta night, put one tat will not tepart with ta morning!" He
+spoke as one suppressing a wild joy.
+
+"Wha'll that be, lucky-deddy?" inquired in a respectful voice the woman
+who had last spoken, while all within hearing hushed each other and
+stood in silence. And all the time the ghost of the day was creeping
+round from west to east, to put on its resurrection body and rise new
+born. It gleamed faint like a cold ashy fire in the north.
+
+"And who will it pe than her own son, Mistress Reekie?" answered the
+piper, calling her by her husband's nickname, as was usual, but, as was
+his sole wont, prefixing the title of respect where custom would have
+employed but her Christian name. "Who'll should it pe put her own
+Malcolm?" he went on. "I see his poat come round ta Tead Head. She flits
+over the water like a pale ghost over Morven. But it's ta young and ta
+strong she is pringing home to Tuncan.--O m'anam, beannuich!"
+
+Involuntarily, all eyes turned toward the point called the Death's Head,
+which bounded the bay on the east.
+
+"It's ower dark to see onything," said the man on the window-sill.
+"There's a bit haar (_fog_) come up."
+
+"Yes," said Duncan, "it'll pe too tark for you who haf cot no eyes only
+to speak of. Put you'll wait a few, and you'll pe seeing as well as
+herself.--Och, her poy! her poy! O m'anam! Ta Lort pe praised! and
+she'll tie in peace, for he'll pe only ta one-half of him a Cam'ell, and
+he'll pe safed at last, as sure as there's a heafen to co to and a hell
+to co from. For ta half tat's not a Cam'ell must be ta strong half, and
+it will trag ta other half into heafen--where it will not pe ta welcome
+howefer."
+
+As if to get rid of the unpleasant thought that his Malcolm could not
+enter heaven without taking half a Campbell with him, he turned from the
+sea and hurried into the house, but only to catch up his pipes and
+hasten out again, filling the bag as he went. Arrived once more on the
+verge of the sand, he stood again facing the north-east, and began to
+blow a pibroch loud and clear.
+
+Meantime, the Partan had joined the same group, and they were talking in
+a low tone about the piper's claim to the second-sight--for although all
+were more or less inclined to put faith in Duncan, there was here no
+such unquestioning belief in the marvel as would have been found on the
+west coast in every glen from the Mull of Cantyre to Loch Eribol--when
+suddenly Meg Partan, almost the only one hitherto remaining in the
+house, appeared rushing from the close. "Hech, sirs!" she cried,
+addressing the Seaton in general, "gien the auld man be in the richt--"
+
+"She'll pe aal in ta right, Mistress Partan, and tat you'll pe seeing,"
+said Duncan, who, hearing her first cry, had stopped his drone and
+played softly, listening.
+
+But Meg went on without heeding him any more than was implied in the
+repetition of her exordium: "Gien the auld man be i' the richt, it 'll
+be the marchioness hersel', 'at's h'ard o' the ill-duin's o' her factor,
+an' 's comin' to see efter her fowk. An' it 'll be Ma'colm's duin'; an'
+that 'll be seen. But the bonny laad winna ken the state o' the herbor,
+an' he'll be makin' for the moo' o' 't, an' he'll jist rin 's bonny
+boatie agrun' 'atween the twa piers; an' that 'll no be a richt
+hame-comin' for the leddy o' the lan'; an' what's mair, Ma'colm 'ill get
+the wyte (_blame_) o' 't; an' that 'll be seen. Sae ye maun, some o' ye,
+to the pier-heid, an' luik oot to gie them warnin'."
+
+Her own husband was the first to start, proud of the foresight of his
+wife. "Haith, Meg!" he cried, "ye're maist as guid at the lang sicht as
+the piper himsel'!"
+
+Several followed him, and as they ran Meg cried after them, giving her
+orders as if she had been vice-admiral of the red, in a voice shrill
+enough to pierce the worst gale that ever blew on northern shore, "Ye'll
+jist tell the bonnie laad to haud wast a bit an' rin her ashore, an'
+we'll a' be there, an' hae her as dry's Noah's ark in a jiffie. Tell her
+leddyship we'll cairry the boat an' her intil't to the tap o' the Boar's
+Tail gien she'll gie's her orders.--Winna we, laads?"
+
+"We can but try," said one. "But the Fisky 'ill be waur to get a grip o'
+nor Nancy here," he added, turning suddenly upon the plumpest girl in
+the place, who stood next him. But she foiled him of the kiss he had
+thought to snatch, and turned the laugh from herself upon him, so
+cleverly avoiding his clutch that he staggered into the road and nearly
+fell upon his nose.
+
+By the time the Partan and his companions reached the pier-head
+something was dawning in the vague of sea and sky that might be a sloop,
+and standing for the harbor. Thereupon the Partan and Jamie Ladle jumped
+into a small boat and pulled out. Dubs, who had come from Scaurnose on
+the business of the conjuration, had stepped into the stern, not to
+steer, but to show a white ensign--somebody's Sunday shirt he had
+gathered as they ran from a furze-bush, where it hung to dry, between
+the Seaton and the harbor.
+
+"Hoots! ye'll affront the marchioness," objected the Partan.
+
+"Man, i' the gloamin' she'll no ken't frae buntin'," said Dubs, and at
+once displayed it, holding it by the two sleeves. The wind had now
+fallen to the softest breath, and the little vessel came on slowly. The
+men rowed hard, shouting and waving their flag, and soon heard a hail
+which none of them could mistake for other than Malcolm's. In a few
+minutes they were on board, greeting their old friend with jubilation,
+but talking in a subdued tone, for they knew by Malcolm's that the
+cutter bore their lady. Briefly the Partan communicated the state of the
+harbor, and recommended porting his helm and running the Fisky ashore
+about opposite the brass swivel. "A' the men an' women i' the Seaton,"
+he said, "'ill be there to haul her up."
+
+Malcolm took the helm, gave his orders and steered farther westward.
+
+By this time the people on shore had caught sight of the cutter. They
+saw her come stealing out of the thin dark like a thought half thought,
+and go gliding along the shore like a sea-ghost over the dusky water,
+faint, uncertain, noiseless, glimmering. It could be no other than the
+Fisky! Both their lady and their friend Malcolm must be on board, they
+were certain, for how could the one of them come without the other? and
+doubtless the marchioness--whom they all remembered as a good-humored,
+handsome girl, ready to speak to any and everybody--would immediately
+deliver them from the hateful red-nosed ogre, her factor. Out at once
+they all set along the shore to greet her arrival, each running
+regardless of the rest, so that from the Seaton to the middle of the
+Boar's Tail there was a long, straggling, broken string of hurrying
+fisher-folk, men and women, old and young, followed by all the current
+children, tapering to one or two toddlers, who felt themselves neglected
+and wept their way along. The piper, too asthmatic to run, but not too
+asthmatic to walk and play his bagpipes, delighting the heart of
+Malcolm, who could not mistake the style, believed he brought up the
+rear, but was mistaken; for the very last came Mrs. Findlay and Lizzy,
+carrying between them their little deal kitchen-table for her ladyship
+to step out of the boat upon, and Lizzy's child fast asleep on the top
+of it.
+
+The foremost ran and ran until they saw that the Fisky had chosen her
+lair, and was turning her bows to the shore, when they stopped and
+stood ready with greased planks and ropes to draw her up. In a few
+minutes the whole population was gathered, darkening, in the June
+midnight, the yellow sands between the tide and the dune. The Psyche was
+well manned now with a crew of six. On she came under full sail till
+within a few yards of the beach, when in one and the same moment every
+sheet was let go, and she swept softly up like a summer wave, and lay
+still on the shore. The butterfly was asleep. But ere she came to rest,
+the instant indeed that her canvas went fluttering away, thirty strong
+men had rushed into the water and laid hold of the now wingless Psyche.
+In a few minutes she was high and dry.
+
+Malcolm leaped on the sand just as the Partaness came bustling up with
+her kitchen-table between her two hands like a tray. She set it down,
+and across it shook hands with him violently: then caught it up again,
+and deposited it firm on its four legs beneath the cutter's waist. "Noo,
+my leddy," said Meg, looking up at the marchioness, "set ye yer bit fut
+upo' my table, an' we'll think the mair o' 't efter whan we tak oor
+denner aff o' 't."
+
+Florimel thanked her, stepped lightly upon it, and sprang to the sand,
+where she was received with words of welcome from many, and shouts which
+rendered them inaudible from the rest. The men, their bonnets in their
+hands, and the women curtseying, made a lane for her to pass through,
+while the young fellows would gladly have begged leave to carry her
+could they have extemporized any suitable sort of palanquin or triumphal
+litter.
+
+Followed by Malcolm, she led the way over the Boar's Tail--nor would
+accept any help in climbing it--straight for the tunnel: Malcolm had
+never laid aside the key his father had given him to the private doors
+while he was yet a servant. They crossed by the embrasure of the brass
+swivel. That implement had now long been silent, but they had not gone
+many paces from the bottom of the dune when it went off with a roar. The
+shouts of the people drowned the startled cry with which Florimel
+turned to Malcolm, involuntarily mindful of old and for her better
+times. She had not looked for such a reception, and was both flattered
+and touched by it. For a brief space the spirit of her girlhood came
+back. Possibly, had she then understood that hope rather than faith or
+love was at the heart of their enthusiasm, that her tenants looked upon
+her as their savior from the factor, and sorely needed the exercise of
+her sovereignty, she might have better understood her position and her
+duty toward them.
+
+Malcolm unlocked the door of the tunnel, and she entered, followed by
+Rose, who felt as if she were walking in a dream. But as he stepped in
+after them he was seized from behind and clasped close in an embrace he
+knew at once. "Daddy, daddy!" he said, and turning threw his arms round
+the piper.
+
+"My poy! my poy! her nain son Malcolm!" said the old man in a whisper of
+intense satisfaction and suppression. "You'll must pe forgifing her for
+coming pack to you. She cannot help lofing you, and you must forget tat
+you are a Cam'ell."
+
+Malcolm kissed his cheek, and said, also in a whisper, "My ain daddy! I
+hae a heap to tell ye, but I maun see my leddy hame first."
+
+"Co, co, this moment co!" cried the old man, pushing him away. "To your
+tuties to my leddyship first, and then come to her old daddy."
+
+"I'll be wi' ye in half an hoor or less."
+
+"Coot poy! coot poy! Come to Mistress Partan's."
+
+"Ay, ay, daddy!" said Malcolm, and hurried through the tunnel.
+
+As Florimel approached the ancient dwelling of her race, now her own to
+do with as she would, her pleasure grew. Whether it was the twilight or
+the breach in dulling custom, everything looked strange, the grounds
+wider, the trees larger, the house grander and more anciently venerable.
+And all the way the burn sang in the hollow. The spirit of her father
+seemed to hover about the place, and while the thought that her
+father's voice would not greet her when she entered the hall cast a
+solemn funereal state over her simple return, her heart yet swelled with
+satisfaction and far-derived pride. All this was hers to do with as she
+would, to confer as she pleased! No thought of her tenants, fishers or
+farmers, who did their strong part in supporting the ancient dignity of
+her house, had even an associated share in the bliss of the moment. She
+had forgotten her reception already, or regarded it only as the natural
+homage to such a position and power as hers. As to owing anything in
+return, the idea had indeed been presented to her when with Clementina
+and Malcolm she talked over _St. Ronan's Well_, but it had never entered
+her mind.
+
+The drawing-room and the hall were lighted. Mrs. Courthope was at the
+door, as if she expected her, and Florimel was careful to take
+everything as a matter of course.
+
+"When will your ladyship please to want me?" asked Malcolm.
+
+"At the usual hour, Malcolm," she answered.
+
+He turned and ran to the Seaton.
+
+His first business was the accommodation of Travers and Davy, but he
+found them already housed at the Salmon, with Jamie Ladle teaching
+Travers to drink toddy. They had left the Psyche snug: she was high
+above high-water mark, and there were no tramps about: they had furled
+her sails, locked the companion-door and left her.
+
+Mrs. Findlay rejoiced over Malcolm as if he had been her own son from a
+far country, but the poor piper, between politeness and gratitude on the
+one hand and the urging of his heart on the other, was sorely tried by
+her loquacity: he could hardly get in a word. Malcolm perceived his
+suffering, and as soon as seemed prudent proposed that he should walk
+with him to Miss Horn's, where he was going to sleep, he said, that
+night. Mrs. Partan snuffed, but held her peace. For the third or fourth
+time that day, wonderful to tell, she restrained herself!
+
+As soon as they were out of the house Malcolm assured Duncan, to the
+old man's great satisfaction, that, had he not found him there, he would
+within another month have set out to roam Scotland in search of him.
+
+Miss Horn had heard of their arrival, and was wandering about the house,
+unable even to sit down until she saw the marquis. To herself she always
+called him the marquis: to his face he was always Ma'colm. If he had not
+come she declared she could not have gone to bed; yet she received him
+with an edge to her welcome: he had to answer for his behavior. They sat
+down, and Duncan told a long sad story; which finished, with the toddy
+that had sustained him during the telling, the old man thought it
+better, for fear of annoying his Mistress Partan, to go home. As it was
+past one o'clock, they both agreed.
+
+"And if she'll tie to-night, my poy," said Duncan, "she'll pe lie awake
+in her crave all ta long tarkness to pe waiting to hear ta voice of your
+worrts in ta morning. And nefer you mind, Malcolm, she'll has learned to
+forgive you for peing only ta one-half of yourself a cursed Cam'ell."
+
+Miss Horn gave Malcolm a wink, as much as to say, "Let the old man talk:
+it will hurt no Campbell;" and showed him out with much attention.
+
+And then at last Malcolm poured out his whole story, and his heart with
+it, to Miss Horn, who heard and received it with understanding, and a
+sympathy which grew ever as she listened. At length she declared herself
+perfectly satisfied, for not only had he done his best, but she did not
+see what else he could have done. She hoped, however, that now he would
+contrive to get this part over as quickly as possible, for which in the
+morning she would show him cogent reasons.
+
+"I hae no feelin's mysel', as ye weel ken, Ma'colm," she remarked in
+conclusion, "an' I doobt, gien I had been i' your place, I wad na hae
+luikit ta a' sides o' the thing at ance, as ye hae dune. An' it was a
+man like you 'at sae near lost yer life for the hizzy!" she exclaimed.
+"I maunna think aboot it, or I winna sleep a wink. But we maun get that
+deevil Catanach (an' cat eneuch!) hangt.--Weel, my man, ye may haud up
+yer heid afore the father o' ye, for ye're the first o' the race, I'm
+thinkin', 'at ever was near han' deein' for anither. But mak ye a speedy
+en' till 't noo, laad, an' fa' to the lave o' yer wark. There's a
+terrible heap to be dune. But I maun haud my tongue the nicht, for I wad
+fain ye had a guid sleep; an' I'm needin' ane sair mysel', for I'm no
+sae yoong as I ance was; an' I hae been that anxious aboot ye, Ma'colm,
+'at though I never hed ony feelin's, yet, noo 'at it's a' gaein' richt,
+an' ye're a' richt, an' like to be richt for evermair, my heid's jist
+like to split. Gang yer wa's to yer bed, and soon' may ye sleep! It's
+the bed yer bonny mither got a soon' sleep in at last, an' muckle was
+she i' need o' 't! An' jist tak tent the morn what ye say whan Jean's i'
+the room, or maybe o' the ither side o' the door, for she's no mowse. I
+dinna ken what gars me keep the jaud. I believe 'at gien the verra
+deevil himsel' had been wi' me sae lang, I wadna hae the hert to turn
+him aboot his ill business. That's what comes o' haein' no feelin's.
+Ither fowk wad hae gotten rid o' her half a score o' years sin' syne."
+
+
+CHAPTER LVIII.
+
+THE TRENCH.
+
+Malcolm had not yet, after all the health-giving of the voyage, entirely
+recovered the effects of the ill-compounded potion. Indeed, sometimes
+the fear crossed his mind that never would he be the same man
+again--that the slow furnace of the grave alone would destroy the vile
+deposit left in his house of life. Hence it came that he was weary, and
+overslept himself the next morning; but it was no great matter: he had
+yet time enough. He swallowed his breakfast as a working man alone can,
+and set out for Duff Harbor. At Leith, where they had put in for
+provisions, he had posted a letter to Mr. Soutar, directing him to have
+Kelpie brought on to his own town, whence he would fetch her himself.
+The distance was about ten miles, the hour eight, and he was a good
+enough walker, although boats and horses had combined to prevent him, he
+confessed, from getting over-fond of Shank's mare. To men who delight in
+the motions of a horse under them the legs of a man are a tame, dull
+means of progression, although they too have their superiorities; and
+one of the disciplines of this world is to get out of the saddle and
+walk afoot. He who can do so with perfect serenity must very nearly have
+learned with Saint Paul in whatsoever state he is, therein to be
+content. It was the loveliest of mornings, however, to be abroad in upon
+any terms, and Malcolm hardly needed the resources of one who knew both
+how to be abased and how to abound--enviable perfection!--for the
+enjoyment of even a long walk. Heaven and earth were just settling to
+the work of the day after their morning prayer, and the whole face of
+things yet wore something of that look of expectation which one who
+mingles the vision of the poet with the faith of the Christian may well
+imagine to be their upward look of hope after a night of groaning and
+travailing--the earnest gaze of the creature waiting for the
+manifestation of the sons of God; and for himself, though the hardest
+thing was yet to come, there was a satisfaction in finding himself
+almost up to his last fence, with the heavy ploughed land through which
+he had been floundering nearly all behind him; which figure means that
+he had almost made up his mind what to do.
+
+When he reached the Duff Arms he walked straight into the yard, where
+the first thing he saw was a stable-boy in the air, hanging on to a
+twitch on the nose of the rearing Kelpie. In another instant he would
+have been killed or maimed for life, and Kelpie loose and scouring the
+streets of Duff Harbor. When she heard Malcolm's voice and the sound of
+his running feet she dropped as if to listen. He flung the boy aside and
+caught her halter. Once or twice more she reared in the vain hope of so
+ridding herself of the pain that clung to her lip and nose, nor did she,
+through the mist of her anger and suffering, quite recognize her master
+in his yacht-uniform. But the torture decreasing, she grew able to scent
+his presence, welcomed him with her usual glad whinny, and allowed him
+to to do with her as he would.
+
+Having fed her, found Mr. Soutar and arranged several matters with him,
+he set out for home.
+
+That was a ride! Kelpie was mad with life. Every available field he
+jumped her into, and she tore its element of space at least to shreds
+with her spurning hoofs. But the distance was not great enough to quiet
+her before they got to hard turnpike and young plantations. He would
+have entered at the grand gate, but found no one at the lodge, for the
+factor, to save a little, had dismissed the old keeper. He had therefore
+to go on, and through the town, where, to the awe-stricken eyes of the
+population peeping from doors and windows, it seemed as if the terrible
+horse would carry him right over the roofs of the fisher-cottages below
+and out to sea. "Eh, but he's a terrible cratur, that Ma'colm MacPhail!"
+said the old wives to each other, and felt there must be something
+wicked in him to ride like that.
+
+But he turned her aside from the steep hill, and passed along the street
+that led to the town-gate of the House. Whom should he see, as he turned
+into it, but Mrs. Catanach, standing on her own doorstep, opposite the
+descent to the Seaton, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking far
+out over the water through the green smoke of the village below! It had
+been her wont to gaze thus since ever he could remember her, though what
+she could at such times be looking for, except it were the devil in
+person, he found it hard to conjecture. At the sound of his approach she
+turned; and such an expression crossed her face in a momentary flash ere
+she disappeared in the house as added considerably to his knowledge of
+fallen humanity. Before he reached her door she was out again, tying on
+a clean white apron as she came, and smiling like a dark pool in
+sunshine. She dropped a low curtsey, and looked as if she had been
+occupying her house for months of his absence. But Malcolm would not
+meet even cunning with its own weapons, and therefore turned away his
+head and took no notice of her. She ground her teeth with the fury of
+hate, and swore that she would yet disappoint him of his purpose,
+whatever it were, in this masquerade of service. Her heart being
+scarcely of the calibre to comprehend one like Malcolm's, her theories
+for the interpretation of the mystery were somewhat wild and altogether
+of a character unfit to see the light.
+
+The keeper of the town-gate greeted Malcolm, as he let him in, with a
+pleased old face and words of welcome, but added instantly, as if it was
+no time for the indulgence of friendship, that it was a terrible
+business going on at the Nose.
+
+"What is it?" asked Malcolm in alarm.
+
+"Ye hae been ower lang awa', I doobt," answered the man, "to ken hoo the
+factor--But, Lord save ye! haud yer tongue," he interjected, looking
+fearfully around him. "Gien he kenned 'at I said sic a thing, he wad
+turn me oot o' hoose an' ha'."
+
+"You've said nothing yet," returned Malcolm.
+
+"I said _factor_, an' that same's 'maist eneuch, for he's like a roarin'
+lion an' a ragin' bear amang the people; an' that sin' ever ye gaed. Bow
+o' Meal said i' the meetin' the ither nicht 'at he bude to be the verra
+man, the wickit ruler propheseed o' sae lang sin' syne i' the beuk o'
+the Proverbs. Eh! it's an awfu' thing to be foreordeent to
+oonrichteousness!"
+
+"But you haven't told me what is the matter at Scaurnose," said Malcolm
+impatiently.
+
+"Ow, it's jist this--'at this same's Midsimmer Day, an' Blue
+Peter--honest fallow!--he's been for the last three month un'er nottice
+frae the factor to quit. An' sae, ye see--"
+
+"To quit!" exclaimed Malcolm. "Sic a thing was never h'ard tell o'."
+
+"Haith! it's h'ard tell o' noo," returned the gate-keeper. "Quittin' 's
+as plenty as quicken (_couch-grass_). 'Deed, there's maist naething
+ither h'ard tell o' _bit_ quittin', for the full half o' Scaurnose is
+un'er like nottice for Michaelmas, an' the Lord kens what it 'll a' en'
+in!"
+
+"But what's it for? Blue Peter's no the man to misbehave himsel'."
+
+"Weel, ye ken mair yersel' nor ony ither as to the warst fau't there is
+to lay till 's chairge; for they say--that is, _some_ say--it's a' yer
+ain wyte, Ma'colm."
+
+"What mean ye, man? Speyk oot," said Malcolm.
+
+"They say it's a' anent the abduckin' o' the markis's boat, 'at you an'
+him gaed aff wi' thegither."
+
+"That'll hardly haud, seein' the marchioness hersel' cam' hame in her
+the last nicht."
+
+"Ay, but ye see the decree's gane oot, and what the factor says is like
+the laws o' the Medes an' Persians, 'at they say's no to be altert: I
+kenna mysel'."
+
+"Ow weel, gien that be a', I'll see efter that wi' the marchioness."
+
+"Ay, but ye see there's a lot o' the laads there, as I'm tellt, 'at has
+vooed 'at factor nor factor's man sall never set fut in Scaurnose frae
+this day furth. Gang ye doon to the Seaton, an' see hoo mony o' yer auld
+freen's ye'll fin' there. Man, there a' oot to Scaurnose to see the
+plisky. The factor he's there, I ken--and some constables wi' 'im--to
+see 'at his order's cairried oot. An' the laads they hae been
+fortifeein' the place, as they ca' 't, for the last ook. They've howkit
+a trenk, they tell me, 'at nane but a hunter on 's horse cud win ower,
+an' they're postit alang the toon-side o' 't wi' sticks an' stanes an
+boat-heuks, an' guns an' pistils. An' gien there bena a man or twa killt
+a'ready--"
+
+Before he finished his sentence Kelpie was leveling herself along the
+road for the sea-gate.
+
+Johnny Bykes was locking it on the other side, in haste to secure his
+eye-share of what was going on, when he caught sight of Malcolm tearing
+up. Mindful of the old grudge, also that there was no marquis now to
+favor his foe, he finished the arrested act of turning the key, drew it
+from the lock, and to Malcolm's orders, threats and appeals returned for
+all answer that he had no time to attend to _him_, and so left him
+looking through the bars. Malcolm dashed across the burn, and round the
+base of the hill on which stood the little wind-god blowing his horn,
+dismounted, unlocked the door in the wall, got Kelpie through, and was
+in the saddle again before Johnny was halfway from the gate. When the
+churl saw him he trembled, turned and ran for its shelter again in
+terror, nor perceived until he reached it that the insulted groom had
+gone off like the wind in the opposite direction.
+
+Malcolm soon left the high-road and cut across the fields, over which
+the wind bore cries and shouts, mingled with laughter and the animal
+sounds of coarse jeering. When he came nigh the cart-road which led into
+the village he saw at the entrance of the street a crowd, and rising
+from it the well-known shape of the factor on his horse. Nearer the sea,
+where was another entrance through the back yards of some cottages, was
+a smaller crowd. Both were now pretty silent, for the attention of all
+was fixed on Malcolm's approach. As he drew up Kelpie foaming and
+prancing, and the group made way for her, he saw a deep wide ditch
+across the road, on whose opposite side was ranged irregularly the
+flower of Scaurnose's younger manhood, calmly, even merrily, prepared to
+defend their entrenchment. They had been chaffing the factor, and loudly
+challenging the constables to come on, when they recognized Malcolm in
+the distance, and expectancy stayed the rush of their bruising wit. For
+they regarded him as beyond a doubt come from the marchioness with
+messages of good-will. When he rode up, therefore, they raised a great
+shout, every one welcoming him by name. But the factor--who, to judge by
+appearances, had had his forenoon dram ere he left home--burning with
+wrath, moved his horse in between Malcolm and the ditch. He had
+self-command enough left, however, to make one attempt at the loftily
+superior. "Pray what is your business?" he said, as if he had never seen
+Malcolm in his life before. "I presume you come with a message."
+
+"I come to beg you, sir, not to go farther with this business. Surely
+the punishment is already enough," said Malcolm respectfully.
+
+"Who sends me the message?" asked the factor, his lips pressed together
+and his eyes flaming.
+
+"One," answered Malcolm, "who has some influence for justice, and will
+use it upon whichever side the justice may lie."
+
+"Go to hell!" cried the factor, losing utterly his slender self-command
+and raising his whip.
+
+Malcolm took no heed of the gesture, for he was at the moment beyond his
+reach. "Mr. Crathie," he said calmly, "you are banishing the best man in
+the place."
+
+"No doubt! no doubt! seeing he's a crony of yours," laughed the factor
+in mighty scorn.--"A canting, prayer-meeting rascal!" he added.
+
+"Is that ony waur nor a drucken elyer o' the kirk?" cried Dubs from the
+other side of the ditch, raising a roar of laughter.
+
+The very purple left the factor's face and turned to a corpse-like gray
+in the fire of his fury.
+
+"Come, come, my men! that's going too far," said Malcolm.
+
+"An' wha ir ye for a fudgie (_truant_) fisher, to gie coonsel ohn
+speired?" shouted Dubs, altogether disappointed in the part Malcolm
+seemed only able to take. "Haud to the factor there wi' yer coonsel!"
+
+"Get out of my way!" said Mr. Crathie through his set teeth, and came
+straight upon Malcolm. "Home with you, or-r-r-r--" And again he raised
+his whip, this time plainly with intent.
+
+"For God's sake, factor, min' the mere!" cried Malcolm. "Ribs an' legs
+an' a' 'ill be to crack gien ye anger her wi' yer whuppin'!" As he spoke
+he drew a little aside, that the factor might pass if he pleased. A
+noise arose in the smaller crowd, and Malcolm turned to see what it
+meant: off his guard, he received a stinging cut over the head from the
+factor's whip. Simultaneously, Kelpie stood up on end, and Malcolm tore
+the weapon from the treacherous hand. "If I gave you what you deserve,
+Mr. Crathie, I should knock you and your horse together into that ditch.
+A touch of the spur would do it. I am not quite sure that I ought not.
+A nature like yours takes forbearance for fear." While he spoke, his
+mare was ramping and kicking, making a clean sweep all about her. Mr.
+Crathie's horse turned restive from sympathy, and it was all his rider
+could do to keep his seat. As soon as he got Kelpie a little quieter,
+Malcolm drew near and returned him his whip. He snatched it from his
+outstretched hand and essayed a second cut at him, which Malcolm
+rendered powerless by pushing Kelpie close up to him. Then suddenly
+wheeling, he left him.
+
+On the other side of the trench the fellows were shouting and roaring
+with laughter.
+
+"Men!" cried Malcolm, "you have no right to stop up this road. I want to
+go and see Blue Peter."
+
+"Come on, than!" cried one of the young men, emulous of Dubs's humor,
+and spread out his arms as if to receive Kelpie to his bosom.
+
+"Stand out of the way: I'm coming," said Malcolm. As he spoke he took
+Kelpie a little round, keeping out of the way of the factor, who sat
+trembling with rage on his still excited animal, and sent her at the
+trench. The Deevil's Jock, as they called him, kept jumping, with his
+arms outspread, from one place to another, as if to receive Kelpie's
+charge; but when he saw her actually coming, in short, quick bounds,
+straight to the trench, he was seized with terror, and, half paralyzed,
+slipped as he turned to flee and rolled into the ditch, just in time to
+see Kelpie fly over his head. His comrades scampered right and left, and
+Malcolm, rather disgusted, took no notice of them.
+
+A cart, loaded with their little all, the horse in the shafts, was
+standing at Peter's door, but nobody was near it. Hardly had Malcolm
+entered the close, however, when out rushed Annie, and heedless of
+Kelpie's demonstrative repellence, reached up her hands like a child,
+caught him by the arm while yet he was busied with his troublesome
+charge, drew him down toward her and held him till, in spite of Kelpie,
+she had kissed him again and again. "Eh, Ma'colm! eh, my lord!" she
+said, "ye hae saved my faith. I kenned ye wad come."
+
+"Haud yer tongue, Annie: I maunna be kenned," said Malcolm.
+
+"There's nae danger. They'll tak it for sweirin'," said Annie, laughing
+and crying both at once.
+
+But next came Blue Peter, his youngest child in his arms.
+
+"Eh, Peter, man! I'm bleythe to see ye," cried Malcolm. "Gie 's a grup
+o' yer honest han'."
+
+More than even the sight of his face, beaming with pleasure, more than
+that grasp of the hand that would have squeezed the life out of a
+polecat, was the sound of the mother-tongue from his lips. The cloud of
+Peter's long distrust broke and vanished, and the sky of his soul was
+straightway a celestial blue. He snatched his hand from Malcolm's,
+walked back into the empty house, ran into the little closet off the
+kitchen, bolted the door, fell on his knees in the void little sanctuary
+that had of late been the scene of so many foiled attempts to lift up
+his heart, and poured out speechless thanksgiving to the God of all
+grace and consolation, who had given him back his friend, and that in
+the time of his sore need. So true was his heart in its love that,
+giving thanks for his friend, he forgot he was the marquis of Lossie,
+before whom his enemy was but as a snail in the sun. When he rose from
+his knees and went out again, his face shining and his eyes misty, his
+wife was on the top of the cart, tying a rope across the cradle.
+
+"Peter," said Malcolm, "ye was quite richt to gang, but I'm glaid they
+didna lat ye."
+
+"I wad hae been halfw'y to Port Gordon or noo," said Peter.
+
+"But noo ye'll no gang to Port Gordon," said Malcolm. "Ye'll jist gang
+to the Salmon for a feow days till we see hoo things'll gang."
+
+"I'll du onything ye like, Ma'colm," said Peter, and went into the house
+to fetch his bonnet.
+
+In the street arose the cry of a woman, and into the close rushed one of
+the fisher-wives, followed by the factor. He had found a place on the
+eastern side of the village, whither he had slipped unobserved, where,
+jumping a low earth-wall, he got into a little back yard. He was
+trampling over its few stocks of kail and its one dusty miller and
+double daisy when the woman to whose cottage it belonged caught sight of
+him through her window, and running out fell to abusing him, doubtless
+in no measured language. He rode at her in his rage, and she fled
+shrieking into Peter's close and behind the cart, never ceasing her
+vituperation, but calling him every choice name in her vocabulary.
+Beside himself with the rage of murdered dignity, he struck at her over
+the corner of the cart. Thereupon from the top of it Annie Mair ventured
+to expostulate: "Hoot, sir! It's no mainners to lat at a wuman like
+that."
+
+He turned upon her, and gave her a cut on the arm and hand so stinging
+that she cried out, and nearly fell from the cart. Out rushed Peter and
+flew at the factor, who from his seat of vantage began to ply his whip
+about his head. But Malcolm, who, when the factor appeared, had moved
+aside to keep Kelpie out of mischief, and saw only the second of the two
+assaults, came forward with a scramble and a bound. "Haud awa', Peter!"
+he cried: "this belangs to me. I gae 'im back 's whup, an' sae I'm
+accoontable.--Mr. Crathie"--and as he spoke he edged his mare up to the
+panting factor--"the man who strikes a woman must be taught that he is a
+scoundrel, and that office I take. I would do the same if you were the
+lord of Lossie instead of his factor."
+
+Mr. Crathie, knowing himself now in the wrong, was a little frightened
+at the set speech, and began to bluster and stammer, but the swift
+descent of Malcolm's heavy riding-whip on his shoulders and back made
+him voluble in curses. Then began a battle that could not last long with
+such odds on the side of justice. It was gazed at from the mouth of the
+close by many spectators, but none dared enter because of the capering
+and plunging and kicking of the horses. In less than a minute the
+factor turned to flee, and spurring out of the court galloped up the
+street at full stretch.
+
+"Haud oot o' the gait!" cried Malcolm, and rode after him. But more
+careful of the people, he did not get a good start, and the factor was
+over the trench and into the fields before he caught him up. Then again
+the stinging switch buckled about the shoulders of the oppressor with
+all the force of Malcolm's brawny arm. The factor yelled and cursed and
+swore, and still Malcolm plied the whip, and still the horses flew over
+fields and fences and ditches. At length in the last field, from which
+they must turn into the high-road, the factor groaned out, "For God's
+sake, Ma'colm, hae mercy!"
+
+The youth's uplifted arm fell by his side. He turned his mare's head,
+and when the factor ventured to turn his, he saw the avenger already
+halfway back to Scaurnose, and the constables in full flight meeting
+him.
+
+While Malcolm was thus occupied his sister was writing to Lady Bellair.
+She told her that, having gone out for a sail in her yacht, which she
+had sent for from Scotland, the desire to see her home had overpowered
+her to such a degree that of the intended sail she had made a voyage,
+and here she was, longing just as much now to see Lady Bellair; and if
+she thought proper to bring a gentleman with her to take care of her, he
+also should be welcome for her sake. It was a long way for her to come,
+she said, and Lady Bellair knew what sort of a place it was, but there
+was nobody in London now, and if she had nothing more enticing on her
+tablets, etc., etc. She ended with begging her, if she was inclined to
+make her happy with her presence, to bring to her Caley and her hound
+Demon. She had hardly finished when Malcolm presented himself. She
+received him very coldly, and declined to listen to anything about the
+fishers. She insisted that, being one of their party, he was prejudiced
+in their favor, and that of course a man of Mr. Crathie's experience
+must know better than he what ought to be done with such people in view
+of protecting her rights and keeping them in order. She declared that
+she was not going to disturb the old way of things to please him, and
+said that he had now done her all the mischief he could, except indeed
+he were to head the fishers and sack Lossie House. Malcolm found that
+instead of gaining any advantage by making himself known to her as her
+brother, he had but given her confidence in speaking her mind to him,
+and set her free from considerations of personal dignity when she
+desired to humiliate him. But he was a good deal surprised at the
+ability with which she set forth and defended her own view of her
+affairs, for she did not tell him that the Rev. Mr. Cairns had been with
+her all the morning, flattering her vanity, worshiping her power and
+generally instructing her in her own greatness--also putting in a word
+or two anent his friend Mr. Crathie, and his troubles with her
+ladyship's fisher-tenants. She was still, however, so far afraid of her
+brother--which state of feeling was perhaps the main cause of her
+insulting behavior to him--that she sat in some dread lest he might
+chance to see the address of the letter she had been writing.
+
+I may mention here that Lady Bellair accepted the invitation with
+pleasure for herself and Liftore, promised to bring Caley, but utterly
+declined to take charge of Demon or allow him to be of the party.
+Thereupon, Florimel, who was fond of the animal, and feared much, as he
+was no favorite, that something would _happen_ to him, wrote to
+Clementina, praying her to visit her in her lovely loneliness--good as
+The Gloom in its way, though not quite so dark--and to add a hair to the
+weight of her obligation if she complied by allowing her deerhound to
+accompany her. Clementina was the only one, she said, of her friends for
+whom the animal had ever shown a preference.
+
+Malcolm retired from his sister's presence much depressed, saw Mrs.
+Courthope, who was kind as ever, and betook himself to his old room,
+next to that in which his strange history began. There he sat down and
+wrote urgently to Lenorme, stating that he had an important
+communication to make, and begging him to start for the North the
+moment he received the letter. A messenger from Duff Harbor well mounted
+would ensure Malcolm's presence within a couple of hours.
+
+He found the behavior of his old acquaintances and friends in the Seaton
+much what he had expected: the few were as cordial as ever, while the
+many still resented, with a mingling of the jealousy of affection, his
+forsaking of the old life for one they regarded as unworthy of a bred at
+least, if not born, fisherman. A few there were still who always had
+been, for reasons known only to themselves, less than friendly. The
+women were all cordial.
+
+"Sic a mad-like thing," said old Futtocks, who was now the leader of the
+assembly at the Barn, "to gang scoorin' the cuintry on that mad brute o'
+a mere! What guid, think ye, can come o' sic-like?"
+
+"H'ard ye 'im ever tell the story aboot Colonsay Castel yon'er?"
+
+"Ay, hev I."
+
+"Weel, isna his mere 'at they ca' Kelpie jest the pictur' o' the deil's
+ain horse 'at lay at the door an' watched whan he flaw oot, an' tuik the
+wa' wi' 'im?"
+
+"I cudna say till I saw whether the deil himsel' cud gar her lie still."
+
+
+CHAPTER LIX.
+
+THE PEACEMAKER.
+
+The heroes of Scaurnose expected a renewal of the attack, and in greater
+force, the next day, and made their preparations accordingly,
+strengthening every weak point around the village. They were put in
+great heart by Malcolm's espousal of their cause, as they considered his
+punishment of the factor; but most of them set it down in their wisdom
+as resulting from the popular condemnation of his previous supineness.
+It did not therefore add greatly to his influence with them. When he
+would have prevailed upon them to allow Blue Peter to depart, arguing
+that they had less right to prevent than the factor had to compel him,
+they once more turned upon him: what right had he to dictate to them?
+he did not belong to Scaurnose. He reasoned with them that the factor,
+although he had not justice, had law on his side, and could turn out
+whom he pleased. They said, "Let him try it!" He told them that they had
+given great provocation, for he knew that the men they had assaulted
+came surveying for a harbor, and that they ought at least to make some
+apology for having maltreated them. It was all useless: that was the
+women's doing, they said; besides, they did not believe him; and if what
+he said was true, what was the thing to them, seeing they were all under
+notice to leave? Malcolm said that perhaps an apology would be accepted.
+They told him if he did not take himself off they would serve him as he
+had served the factor. Finding expostulation a failure, therefore, he
+begged Joseph and Annie to settle themselves again as comfortably as
+they could, and left them.
+
+Contrary to the expectation of all, however, and considerably to the
+disappointment of the party of Dubs, Fite Folp and the rest, the next
+day was as peaceful as if Scaurnose had been a halcyon nest floating on
+the summer waves; and it was soon reported that in consequence of the
+punishment he had received from Malcolm the factor was far too ill to be
+troublesome to any but his wife. This was true, but, severe as his
+chastisement was, it was not severe enough to have had any such
+consequences but for his late growing habit of drinking whisky. As it
+was, fever had followed upon the combination of bodily and mental
+suffering. But already it had wrought this good in him, that he was far
+more keenly aware of the brutality of the offence of which he had been
+guilty than he would otherwise have been all his life through. To his
+wife, who first learned the reason of Malcolm's treatment of him from
+his delirious talk in the night, it did not, circumstances considered,
+appear an enormity, and her indignation with the avenger of it, whom she
+had all but hated before, was furious. Malcolm, on his part, was greatly
+concerned to hear the result of his severity. He refrained, however,
+from calling to inquire, knowing it would be interpreted as an insult,
+not accepted as a sign of sympathy. He went to the doctor instead, who,
+to his consternation, looked very serious at first. But when he learned
+all about the affair, he changed his view considerably, and condescended
+to give good hopes of his coming through, even adding that it would
+lengthen his life by twenty years if it broke him of his habits of
+whisky-drinking and rage.
+
+And now Malcolm had a little time of leisure, which he put to the best
+possible use in strengthening his relations with the fishers. For he had
+nothing to do about the House except look after Kelpie; and Florimel, as
+if determined to make him feel that he was less to her than before, much
+as she used to enjoy seeing him sit his mare, never took him out with
+her--always Stoat. He resolved therefore, seeing he must yet delay
+action a while in the hope of the appearance of Lenorme, to go out as in
+the old days after the herring, both for the sake of splicing, if
+possible, what strands had been broken between him and the fishers, and
+of renewing for himself the delights of elemental conflict. With these
+views he hired himself to the Partan, whose boat's crew was
+short-handed. And now, night after night, he reveled in the old
+pleasure, enhanced by so many months of deprivation. Joy itself seemed
+embodied in the wind blowing on him out of the misty infinite while his
+boat rocked and swung on the waters, hanging between two worlds--that in
+which the wind blew, and that other dark-swaying mystery whereinto the
+nets to which it was tied went away down and down, gathering the harvest
+of the ocean. It was as if Nature called up all her motherhood to greet
+and embrace her long-absent son. When it came on to blow hard, as it did
+once and again during those summer nights, instead of making him feel
+small and weak in the midst of the storming forces, it gave him a
+glorious sense of power and unconquerable life. And when his watch was
+out, and the boat lay quiet, like a horse tethered and asleep in his
+clover-field, he too would fall asleep with a sense of simultaneously
+deepening and vanishing delight such as he had not at all in other
+conditions experienced. Ever since the poison had got into his system,
+and crept where it yet lay lurking in hidden corners and crannies, a
+noise at night would on shore startle him awake, and set his heart
+beating hard; but no loudest sea-noise ever woke him: the stronger the
+wind flapped its wings around him, the deeper he slept. When a comrade
+called him by name he was up at once and wide awake.
+
+It answered also all his hopes in regard to his companions and the
+fisher-folk generally. Those who had really known him found the same old
+Malcolm, and those who had doubted him soon began to see that at least
+he had lost nothing in courage or skill or good-will: ere long he was
+even a greater favorite than before. On his part, he learned to
+understand far better the nature of his people, as well as the
+individual characters of them, for his long (but not too long) absence
+and return enabled him to regard them with unaccustomed, and therefore
+in some respects more discriminating, eyes.
+
+Duncan's former dwelling happening to be then occupied by a lonely
+woman, Malcolm made arrangements with her to take them both in; so that
+in relation to his grandfather too something very much like the old life
+returned for a time--with this difference, that Duncan soon began to
+check himself as often as the name of his hate with its accompanying
+curse rose to his lips.
+
+The factor continued very ill. He had sunk into a low state, in which
+his former indulgence was greatly against him. Every night the fever
+returned, and at length his wife was worn out with watching and waiting
+upon him.
+
+And every morning Lizzy Findlay without fail called to inquire how Mr.
+Crathie had spent the night. To the last, while quarreling with every
+one of her neighbors with whom he had anything to do, he had continued
+kind to her, and she was more grateful than one in other trouble than
+hers could have understood. But she did not know that an element in the
+origination of his kindness was the belief that it was by Malcolm she
+had been wronged and forsaken.
+
+Again and again she had offered, in the humblest manner, to ease his
+wife's burden by sitting with him at night; and at last, finding she
+could hold up no longer, Mrs. Crathie consented. But even after a week
+she found herself still unable to resume the watching, and so, night
+after night, resting at home during a part of the day, Lizzy sat by the
+sleeping factor, and when he woke ministered to him like a daughter. Nor
+did even her mother object, for sickness is a wondrous reconciler.
+Little did the factor suspect, however, that it was partly for Malcolm's
+sake she nursed him, anxious to shield the youth from any possible
+consequences of his righteous vengeance.
+
+While their persecutor lay thus, gradually everything at Scaurnose, and
+consequently at the Seaton, lapsed into its old way, and the summer of
+such content as before they had possessed returned to the fishers. I
+fear it would have proved hard for some of them, had they made effort in
+that direction, to join in the prayer--if prayer it may be called--put
+up in church for him every Sunday. What a fearful canopy the prayers
+that do not get beyond the atmosphere would make if they turned brown
+with age! Having so lately seen the factor going about like a maniac,
+raving at this piece of damage and that heap of dirt, the few fishers
+present could never help smiling when Mr. Cairns prayed for
+him as "the servant of God and his Church now lying grievously
+afflicted--persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed."
+Having found the fitting phrases, he seldom varied them.
+
+Through her sorrow Lizzy had grown tender, as through her shame she had
+grown wise. That the factor had been much in the wrong only rendered her
+anxious sympathy the more eager to serve him. Knowing so well what it
+was to have done wrong, she was pitiful over him, and her ministrations
+were none the less devoted that she knew exactly how Malcolm thought and
+felt about him; for the affair, having taken place in open village and
+wide field and in the light of mid-day, and having been reported by
+eye-witnesses many, was everywhere perfectly known, and Malcolm
+therefore talked of it freely to his friends--among them both to Lizzy
+and her mother.
+
+Sickness sometimes works marvelous changes, and the most marvelous on
+persons who to the ordinary observer seem the least liable to change.
+Much apparent steadfastness of nature, however, is but sluggishness, and
+comes from incapacity to generate change or contribute toward personal
+growth; and it follows that those whose nature is such can as little
+prevent or retard any change that has its initiative beyond them. The
+men who impress the world as the mightiest are those often who _can_ the
+least--never those who can the most in their natural kingdom; generally
+those whose frontiers lie openest to the inroads of temptation, whose
+atmosphere is most subject to moody changes and passionate convulsions,
+who, while perhaps they can whisper laws to a hemisphere, can utter no
+decree of smallest potency as to how things shall be within themselves.
+Place Alexander ille Magnus beside Malcolm's friend Epictetus, ille
+servorum servus--take his crutch from the slave and set the hero upon
+his Bucephalus, but set them alone and in a desert--which will prove the
+great man? which the unchangeable? The question being what the man
+himself shall or shall not be, shall or shall not feel, shall or shall
+not recognize as of himself and troubling the motions of his being,
+Alexander will prove a mere earth-bubble, Epictetus a cavern in which
+pulses the tide of the eternal and infinite Sea.
+
+But then first, when the false strength of the self-imagined great man
+is gone, when the want or the sickness has weakened the self-assertion
+which is so often mistaken for strength of individuality, when the
+occupations in which he formerly found a comfortable consciousness of
+being have lost their interest, his ambitions their glow and his
+consolations their color, when suffering has wasted away those upper
+strata of his factitious consciousness, and laid bare the lower,
+simpler, truer deeps, of which he has never known or has forgotten the
+existence, then there is a hope of his commencing a new and real life.
+Powers then, even powers within himself, of which he knew nothing, begin
+to assert themselves, and the man commonly reported to possess a strong
+will is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. This
+factor, this man of business, this despiser of humbug, to whom the
+scruples of a sensitive conscience were a contempt, would now lie awake
+in the night and weep. "Ah!" I hear it answered, "but that was the
+weakness caused by his illness." True; but what then had become of his
+strength? And was it all weakness? What if this weakness was itself a
+sign of returning life, not of advancing death--of the dawn of a new and
+genuine strength? For he wept because in the visions of his troubled
+brain he saw once more the cottage of his father the shepherd, with all
+its store of lovely nothings round which the nimbus of sanctity had
+gathered while he thought not of them; wept over the memory of that
+moment of delight when his mother kissed him for parting with his willow
+whistle to the sister who cried for it: he cried now in his turn, after
+five-and-fifty years, for not yet had the little fact done with him, not
+yet had the kiss of his mother lost its power on the man; wept over the
+sale of the pet lamb, though he had himself sold thousands of lambs
+since; wept over even that bush of dusty miller by the door, like the
+one he trampled under his horse's feet in the little yard at Scaurnose
+that horrible day. And oh that nest of wild bees with its combs of honey
+unspeakable! He used to laugh and sing then: he laughed still
+sometimes--he could hear how he laughed, and it sounded frightful--but
+he never sang. Were the tears that honored such childish memories all of
+weakness? Was it cause of regret that he had not been wicked enough to
+have become impregnable to such foolish trifles? Unable to mount a
+horse, unable to give an order, not caring even for his toddy, he was
+left at the mercy of his fundamentals: his childhood came up and
+claimed him, and he found the childish things he had put away better
+than the manly things he had adopted. It is one thing for Saint Paul and
+another for Mr. Worldly Wiseman to put away childish things. The ways
+they do it, and the things they substitute, are both so different! And
+now first to me, whose weakness it is to love life more than manners,
+and men more than their portraits, the man begins to grow interesting.
+Picture the dawn of innocence on a dull, whisky-drinking, commonplace
+soul, stained by self-indulgence and distorted by injustice! Unspeakably
+more interesting and lovely is to me such a dawn than the honeymoon of
+the most passionate of lovers, except indeed I know them such lovers
+that their love will out-last all the moons.
+
+"I'm a poor creature, Lizzy," he said, turning his heavy face one
+midnight toward the girl as she sat half dozing, ready to start awake.
+
+"God comfort ye, sir!" said the girl.
+
+"He'll take good care of that," returned the factor. "What did I ever do
+to deserve it? There's that MacPhail, now--to think of _him_! Didn't I
+do what man could for him? Didn't I keep him about the place when all
+the rest were dismissed? Didn't I give him the key of the library, that
+he might read and improve his mind? And look what comes of it!"
+
+"Ye mean, sir," said Lizzy, quite innocently, "'at that's the w'y ye
+ha'e dune wi' God, an' sae he winna heed ye?"
+
+The factor had meant nothing in the least like it. He had merely been
+talking as the imps of suggestion tossed up. His logic was as sick and
+helpless as himself. So at that he held his peace, stung in his pride at
+least--perhaps in his conscience too, only he was not prepared to be
+rebuked by a girl like her, who had--Well, he must let it pass: how much
+better was he himself?
+
+But Lizzy was loyal: she could not hear him speak so of Malcolm and hold
+her peace as if she agreed in his condemnation. "Ye'll ken Ma'colm
+better some day, sir," she said.
+
+"Well, Lizzy," returned the sick man, in a tone that but for feebleness
+would have been indignant, "I have heard a good deal of the way women
+_will_ stand up for men that have treated them cruelly, but you to stand
+up for _him_ passes!"
+
+"He's been the best friend I ever had," said Lizzy.
+
+"Girl! how can you sit there, and tell me so to my face?" cried the
+factor, his voice strengthened by the righteousness of the reproof it
+bore. "If it were not the dead of the night--"
+
+"I tell ye naething but the trowth, sir," said Lizzy as the contingent
+threat died away. "But ye maun lie still or I maun gang for the
+mistress. Gien ye be the waur the morn, it'll be a' my wyte, 'cause I
+cudna bide to hear sic things said o' Ma'colm."
+
+"Do ye mean to tell me," persisted her charge, heedless of her
+expostulation, "that the fellow who brought you to disgrace, and left
+you with a child you could ill provide for--and I well know never sent
+you a penny all the time he was away, whatever he may have done now--is
+the best friend you ever had?"
+
+"Noo God forgie ye, Maister Crathie, for threipin' sic a thing!" cried
+Lizzy, rising as if she would leave him. "Ma'colm MacPhail's as clear o'
+ony sin like mine as my wee bairnie itsel'."
+
+"Do ye daur tell _me_ he's no the father o' that same, lass?"
+
+"_No_; nor never will be the father o' ony bairn whase mither's no his
+wife!" said Lizzy, with burning cheeks but resolute voice.
+
+The factor, who had risen on his elbow to look her in the face, fell
+back in silence, and neither of them spoke for what seemed to the
+watcher a long time. When she ventured to look at him, he was asleep.
+
+He lay in one of those troubled slumbers into which weakness and
+exhaustion will sometimes pass very suddenly; and in that slumber he had
+a dream which he never forgot. He thought he had risen from his grave
+with an awful sound in his ears, and knew he was wanted at the
+judgment-seat. But he did not want to go, therefore crept into the porch
+of the church and hoped to be forgotten. But suddenly an angel appeared
+with a flaming sword, and drove him out of the churchyard away to
+Scaurnose, where the Judge was sitting. And as he fled in terror before
+the angel he fell, and the angel came and stood over him, and his sword
+flashed torture into his bones, but he could not and dared not rise. At
+last, summoning all his strength, he looked up at him and cried out,
+"Sir, hae mercy, for God's sake!" Instantly all the flames drew back
+into the sword, and the blade dropped, burning like a brand from the
+hilt, which the angel threw away. And lo! it was Malcolm MacPhail, and
+he was stooping to raise him. With that he awoke, and there was Lizzy
+looking down on him anxiously. "What are you looking like that for?" he
+asked crossly.
+
+She did not like to tell him that she had been alarmed by his dropping
+asleep, and in her confusion she fell back on the last subject. "There
+maun be some mistak, Mr. Crathie," she said. "I wuss ye wad tell me what
+gars ye hate Ma'colm MacPhail as ye du."
+
+The factor, although he seemed to himself to know well enough, was yet a
+little puzzled how to commence his reply; and therewith a process began
+that presently turned into something with which never in his life before
+had his inward parts been acquainted--a sort of self-examination, to
+wit. He said to himself, partly in the desire to justify his present
+dislike--he would not call it hate, as Lizzy did--that he used to get on
+with the lad well enough, and had never taken offence at his freedoms,
+making no doubt his manner came of his blood, and he could not help it,
+being a chip of the old block; but when he ran away with the marquis's
+boat, and went to the marchioness and told her lies against him, then
+what could he do but--dislike him?
+
+Arrived at this point, he opened his mouth and gave the substance of
+what preceded it for answer to Lizzy's question. But she replied at
+once: "Nobody 'ill gar me believe, sir, 'at Ma'colm MacPhail ever tellt
+a lee again' you or onybody. I dinna believe he ever tellt a lee in 's
+life. Jist ye exem' him weel anent it, sir. An' for the boat, nae doobt
+it was makin' free to tak it; but ye ken, sir, 'at hoo he was maister
+o' the same. It was in his chairge, an' ye ken little aboot boats
+yersel' or the sailin' o' them, sir."
+
+"But it was me that engaged him again after all the servants at the
+House had been dismissed: he was _my_ servant."
+
+"That maks the thing luik waur, nae doobt," allowed Lizzy, with
+something of cunning. "Hoo was't at he cam to du 't ava' (_of all at
+all_), sir? Can ye min'?" she pursued.
+
+"I discharged him."
+
+"An' what for, gien I may mak bold to speir, sir?" she went on.
+
+"For insolence."
+
+"Wad ye tell me hoo he answert ye? Dinna think me meddlin', sir: I'm
+clear certain there's been some mistak. Ye cudna be sae guid to me an'
+be ill to him, ohn some mistak."
+
+It was consoling to the conscience of the factor, in regard of his
+behavior to the two women, to hear his own praise for kindness from a
+woman's lips. He took no offence, therefore, at her persistent
+questioning, but told her as well and as truly as he could remember,
+with no more than the all-but unavoidable exaggeration with which
+feeling _will_ color fact, the whole passage between Malcolm and himself
+concerning the sale of Kelpie, and closed with an appeal to the judgment
+of his listener, in which he confidently anticipated her verdict: "A
+most ridic'lous thing! ye can see yersel' as weel 's onybody, Lizzy. An'
+sic a thing to ca' an honest man like mysel' a hypocreet for! ha! ha!
+ha! There's no a bairn atween John o' Groat's an' the Lan's En' disna
+ken 'at the seller o' a horse is b'un' to reese (_extol_) him, an' the
+buyer to tak care o' himsel'. I'll no say it's jist allooable to tell a
+doonricht lee, but ye may come full nearer till't in horse-dealin', ohn
+sinned, nor in ony ither kin' o' merchandeze. It's like luve an' war, in
+baith which, it's weel kenned, a' thing's fair. The saw sud rin--_Luve
+an' war an' horse-dealin'._--Divna ye see, Lizzy?"
+
+But Lizzy did not answer, and the factor, hearing a stifled sob, started
+to his elbow.
+
+"Lie still, sir!" said Lizzy. "It's naething. I was only jist thinkin'
+'at that wad be the w'y 'at the father o' my bairn rizzoned wi' himsel'
+whan he lee'd to me."
+
+"Hey!" said the astonished factor, and in his turn held his peace,
+trying to think.
+
+Now, Lizzy for the last few months had been going to school--the same
+school with Malcolm, open to all comers--the only school where one is
+sure to be led in the direction of wisdom--and there she had been
+learning to some purpose, as plainly appeared before she had done with
+the factor.
+
+"Whase Kirk are ye elder o', Maister Crathie?" she asked presently.
+
+"Ow, the Kirk o' Scotlan', of coorse," answered the patient, in some
+surprise at her ignorance.
+
+"Ay, ay," returned Lizzy; "but whase aucht (_owning, property_) is 't?"
+
+"Ow, whase but the Redeemer's?"
+
+"An' div ye think, Mr. Crathie, 'at gien Jesus Christ had had a horse to
+sell, he wad hae hidden frae him 'at wad buy ae hair o' a fau't 'at the
+beast hed? Wad he no hae dune till's neiper as he wad hae his neiper du
+to him?"
+
+"Lassie! lassie! tak care hoo ye even _Him_ to sic-like as hiz (_us_).
+What wad _He_ hae to du wi' horseflesh?"
+
+Lizzy held her peace. Here was no room for argument. He had flung the
+door of his conscience in the face of her who woke it. But it was too
+late, for the word was in already. Oh that false reverence which men
+substitute for adoring obedience, and wherewith they reprove the
+childlike spirit that does not know another kingdom than that of God and
+that of Mammon! God never gave man thing to do concerning which it were
+irreverent to ponder how the Son of God would have done it.
+
+But, I say, the word was in, and, partly no doubt from its following so
+close upon the dream the factor had had, was potent in its operation. He
+fell a-thinking, and a-thinking more honestly than he had thought for
+many a day. And presently it was revealed to him that, if he were in the
+horse-market wanting to buy, and a man there who had to sell said to
+him, "He wadna du for you, sir: ye wad be tired o' 'im in a week," he
+would never remark, "What a fool the fellow is!" but, "Weel, noo, I ca'
+that neiborly!" He did not get quite so far just then as to see that
+every man to whom he might want to sell a horse was as much his neighbor
+as his own brother; nor, indeed, if he had got as far, would it have
+indicated much progress in honesty, seeing he would at any time, when
+needful and possible, have cheated that brother in the matter of a horse
+as certainly as he would a Patagonian or Chinaman. But the warped glass
+of a bad maxim had at least been cracked in his window.
+
+The peacemaker sat in silence the rest of the night, but the factor's
+sleep was broken, and at times he wandered. He was not so well the next
+day, and his wife, gathering that Lizzy had been talking, and herself
+feeling better, would not allow her to sit up with him any more.
+
+Days and days passed, and still Malcolm had no word from Lenorme, and
+was getting hopeless in respect to that quarter of possible aid. But so
+long as Florimel could content herself with the quiet of Lossie House,
+there was time to wait, he said to himself. She was not idle, and that
+was promising. Every day she rode out with Stoat. Now and then she would
+make a call in the neighborhood, and, apparently to trouble Malcolm,
+took care to let him know that on one of these occasions her call had
+been upon Mrs. Stewart. One thing he did feel was, that she made no
+renewal of her friendship with his grandfather: she had, alas! outgrown
+the girlish fancy. Poor Duncan took it much to heart. She saw more of
+the minister and his wife--who both flattered her--than anybody else,
+and was expecting the arrival of Lady Bellair and Lord Liftore with the
+utmost impatience. They, for their part, were making the journey by the
+easiest possible stages, tacking and veering, and visiting every one of
+their friends that lay between London and Lossie: they thought to give
+Florimel the little lesson that, though they accepted her invitation,
+they had plenty of friends in the world besides her ladyship, and were
+not dying to see her.
+
+One evening, Malcolm, as he left the grounds of Mr. Morrison, on whom
+he had been calling, saw a traveling-carriage pass toward Portlossie,
+and something liker fear laid hold of his heart than he had ever felt
+except when Florimel and he on the night of the storm took her father
+for Lord Gernon the wizard. As soon as he reached certain available
+fields, he sent Kelpie tearing across them, dodged through a fir wood,
+and came out on the road half a mile in front of the carriage: as again
+it passed him he saw that his fears were facts, for in it sat the
+bold-faced countess and the mean-hearted lord. Something _must_ be done
+at last, and until it was done good watch must be kept.
+
+I must here note that during this time of hoping and waiting Malcolm had
+attended to another matter of importance. Over every element influencing
+his life, his family, his dependants, his property, he desired to
+possess a lawful, honest command: where he had to render account he
+would be head. Therefore, through Mr. Soutar's London agent, to whom he
+sent up Davy, and whom he brought acquainted with Merton and his former
+landlady at the curiosity-shop, he had discovered a good deal about Mrs.
+Catanach from her London associates, among them the herb-doctor and his
+little boy who had watched Davy; and he had now almost completed an
+outline of evidence which, grounded on that of Rose, might be used
+against Mrs. Catanach at any moment. He had also set inquiries on foot
+in the track of Caley's antecedents, and had discovered more than the
+acquaintance between her and Mrs. Catanach. Also he had arranged that
+Hodges, the man who had lost his leg through his cruelty to Kelpie,
+should leave for Duff Harbor as soon as possible after his discharge
+from the hospital. He was determined to crush the evil powers which had
+been ravaging his little world.
+
+
+CHAPTER LX.
+
+AN OFFERING.
+
+Clementina was always ready to accord any reasonable request Florimel
+could make of her; but her letter lifted such a weight from her heart
+and life that she would now have done whatever she desired, reasonable
+or unreasonable, provided only it was honest. She had no difficulty in
+accepting Florimel's explanation that her sudden disappearance was but a
+breaking of the social jail, the flight of the weary bird from its
+foreign cage back to the country of its nest; and that same morning she
+called upon Demon. The hound, feared and neglected, was rejoiced to see
+her, came when she called him, and received her caresses: there was no
+ground for dreading his company. It was a long journey, but if it had
+been across a desert instead of through her own country, the hope that
+lay at the end of it would have made it more than pleasant. She, as well
+as Lady Bellair, had friends upon the way, but no desire either to
+lengthen the journey or shorten its tedium by visiting them.
+
+The letter would have found her at Wastbeach instead of London had not
+the society and instructions of the schoolmaster detained her a willing
+prisoner to its heat and glare and dust. Him only in all London must she
+see to bid good-bye. To Camden Town therefore she went that same
+evening, when his work would be over for the day. As usual now, she was
+shown into his room--his only one. As usual also, she found him poring
+over his Greek Testament. The gracious, graceful woman looked lovelily
+strange in that mean chamber--like an opal in a brass ring. There was no
+such contrast between the room and its occupant. His bodily presence was
+too weak to "stick fiery off" from its surroundings, and to the eye that
+saw through the bodily presence to the inherent grandeur, that grandeur
+suggested no discrepancy, being of the kind that lifts everything to its
+own level, casts the mantle of its own radiance around its surroundings.
+Still, to the eye of love and reverence it was not pleasant to see him
+in such _entourage_, and now that Clementina was going to leave him, the
+ministering spirit that dwelt in the woman was troubled.
+
+"Ah!" he said, and rose as she entered, "this is then the angel of my
+deliverance!" But with such a smile he did not look as if he had much to
+be delivered from. "You see," he went on, "old man as I am, and
+peaceful, the summer will lay hold upon me. She stretches out a long arm
+into this desert of houses and stones, and sets me longing after the
+green fields and the living air--it seems dead here--and the face of
+God, as much as one may behold of the Infinite through the revealing
+veil of earth and sky and sea. Shall I confess my weakness, my poverty
+of spirit, my covetousness after the visual? I was even getting a little
+tired of that glorious God-and-man lover, Saul of Tarsus: no, not of
+him, never of _him_, only of his shadow in his words. Yet perhaps--yes,
+I think so--it is God alone of whom a man can never get tired. Well, no
+matter: tired I was, when lo! here comes my pupil, with more of God in
+her face than all the worlds and their skies He ever made."
+
+"I would my heart were as full of Him too, then, sir," answered
+Clementina. "But if I am anything of a comfort to you, I am more than
+glad; therefore the more sorry to tell you that I am going to leave you,
+though for a little while only, I trust."
+
+"You do not take me by surprise, my lady. I have of course been looking
+forward for some time to my loss and your gain. The world is full of
+little deaths--deaths of all sorts and sizes, rather let me say. For
+this one I was prepared. The good summer-land calls you to its bosom,
+and you must go."
+
+"Come with me," cried Clementina, her eyes eager with the light of the
+sudden thought, while her heart reproached her grievously that only now
+first had it come to her.
+
+"A man must not leave the most irksome work for the most peaceful
+pleasure," answered the schoolmaster. "I am able to live--yes, and do my
+work--without you, my lady," he added with a smile, "though I shall miss
+you sorely."
+
+"But you do not know where I want you to come," she said.
+
+"What difference can that make, my lady, except indeed in the amount of
+pleasure to be refused, seeing this is not a matter of choice? I must be
+with the children whom I have engaged to teach, and whose parents pay me
+for my labor--not with those who, besides, can do well without me."
+
+"I cannot, sir--not for long at least."
+
+"What! not with Malcolm to supply my place?"
+
+Clementina blushed, but only like a white rose. She did not turn her
+head aside; she did not lower their lids to veil the light she felt
+mount into her eyes; she looked him gently in the face as before, and
+her aspect of entreaty did not change. "Ah! do not be unkind, master,"
+she said.
+
+"Unkind!" he repeated. "You know I am not. I have more kindness in my
+heart than any lips can tell. You do not know, you could not yet
+imagine, the half of what I hope of and for and from you."
+
+"I _am_ going to see Malcolm," she said with a little sigh. "That is, I
+am going to visit Lady Lossie at her place in Scotland--your own old
+home, where so many must love you. _Can't_ you come? I shall be
+traveling alone, quite alone, except my servants."
+
+A shadow came over the schoolmaster's face: "You do not _think_, my
+lady, or you would not press me. It pains me that you do not see at once
+it would be dishonest to go without timely notice to my pupils, and to
+the public too. But, beyond that quite, I never do anything of myself. I
+go not where I wish, but where I seem to be called or sent. I never even
+wish much, except when I pray to Him in whom are hid all the treasures
+of wisdom and knowledge. After what He wants to give me I am wishing all
+day long. I used to build many castles, not without a beauty of their
+own--that was when I had less understanding--now I leave them to God to
+build for me: He does it better, and they last longer. See now, this
+very hour, when I needed help, could I have contrived a more lovely
+annihilation of the monotony that threatened to invade my weary spirit
+than this inroad of light in the person of my Lady Clementina? Nor will
+He allow me to get overwearied with vain efforts. I do not think He will
+keep me here long, for I find I cannot do much for these children. They
+are but some of His many pagans--not yet quite ready to receive
+Christianity, I think--not like children with some of the old seeds of
+the truth buried in them, that want to be turned up nearer to the light.
+This ministration I take to be more for my good than theirs--a little
+trial of faith and patience for me--a stony corner of the lovely valley
+of humiliation to cross. True, I _might_ be happier where I could hear
+the larks, but I do not know that anywhere have I been more peaceful
+than in this little room, on which I see you so often cast round your
+eyes curiously, perhaps pitifully, my lady."
+
+"It is not at all a fit place for _you_," said Clementina with a touch
+of indignation.
+
+"Softly, my lady, lest, without knowing it, your love should make you
+sin. Who set thee, I pray, for a guardian angel over my welfare? I could
+scarce have a lovelier, true; but where is thy brevet? No, my lady: it
+is a greater than thou that sets me the bounds of my habitation. Perhaps
+He may give me a palace one day. If I might choose, it would be things
+that belong to a cottage--the whiteness and the greenness and the sweet
+odors of cleanliness. But the Father has decreed for His children that
+they shall know the thing that is neither their ideal nor His. Who can
+imagine how in this respect things looked to our Lord when He came and
+found so little faith on the earth? But perhaps, my lady, you would not
+pity my present condition so much if you had seen the cottage in which I
+was born, and where my father and mother loved each other, and died
+happier than on their wedding-day. There I was happy too until their
+loving ambition decreed that I should be a scholar and a clergyman. Not
+before then did I ever know anything worthy the name of trouble. A
+little cold and a little hunger at times, and not a little restlessness
+always, was all. But then--ah, then my troubles began. Yet God, who
+bringeth light out of darkness, hath brought good even out of my
+weakness and presumption and half-unconscious falsehood. When do you
+go?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, as I purpose."
+
+"Then God be with thee! He _is_ with thee, only my prayer is that thou
+mayst know it. He is with me, and I know it. He does not find this
+chamber too mean or dingy or unclean to let me know Him near me in it."
+
+"Tell me one thing before I go," said Clementina: "are we not commanded
+to bear each other's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ? I read
+it to-day."
+
+"Then why ask me?"
+
+"For another question: does not that involve the command to those who
+have burdens that they should allow others to bear them?"
+
+"Surely, my lady. But _I_ have no burden to let you bear."
+
+"Why should I have everything and you nothing? Answer me that."
+
+"My lady, I have millions more than you, for I have been gathering the
+crumbs under my Master's table for thirty years."
+
+"You are a king," answered Clementina. "But a king needs a handmaiden
+somewhere in his house: that let _me_ be in yours. No, I will be proud,
+and assert my rights: I am your daughter. If I am not, why am I here? Do
+you not remember telling me that the adoption of God meant a closer
+relation than any other fatherhood, even His own first fatherhood, could
+signify? You cannot cast me off if you would. Why should you be poor
+when I am rich? You _are_ poor: you cannot deny it," she concluded with
+a serious playfulness.
+
+"I will not deny my privileges," said the schoolmaster, with a smile
+such as might have acknowledged the possession of some exquisite and
+envied rarity.
+
+"I believe," insisted Clementina, "you are just as poor as the apostle
+Paul when he sat down to make a tent, or as our Lord himself after he
+gave up carpentering."
+
+"You are wrong there, my lady. I am not so poor as they must often have
+been."
+
+"But I don't know how long I may be away, and you may fall ill,
+or--or--see some--some book you want very much, or--"
+
+"I never do," said the schoolmaster.
+
+"What! never see a book you want to have?"
+
+"No, not now. I have my Greek Testament, my Plato and my Shakespeare,
+and one or two little books besides whose wisdom I have not yet quite
+exhausted."
+
+"I can't bear it!" cried Clementina, almost on the point of weeping.
+"You will not let me near you. You put out an arm as long as the
+summer's, and push me away from you. _Let_ me be your servant." As she
+spoke she rose, and walking softly up to him where he sat, kneeled at
+his knees and held out suppliantly a little bag of white silk tied with
+crimson. "Take it--father," she said, hesitating, and bringing the word
+out with an effort: "take your daughter's offering--a poor thing to show
+her love, but something to ease her heart."
+
+He took it, and weighed it up and down in his hand with an amused smile,
+but his eyes full of tears. It was heavy. He opened it. A chair was
+within his reach: he emptied it on the seat of it, and laughed with
+merry delight as its contents came tumbling out. "I never saw so much
+gold in my life if it were all taken together," he said. "What beautiful
+stuff it is! But I don't want it, my dear. It would but trouble me." And
+as he spoke he began to put it in the bag again. "You will want it for
+your journey," he said.
+
+"I have plenty in my reticule," she answered. "That is a mere nothing to
+what I could have to-morrow morning for writing a cheque. I am afraid I
+am very rich. It is such a shame! But I can't well help it. You must
+teach me how to become poor. Tell me true: how much money have you?" She
+said this with such an earnest look of simple love that the schoolmaster
+made haste to rise that he might conceal his growing emotion.
+
+"Rise, my dear lady," he said as he rose himself, "and I will show you."
+He gave her his hand, and she obeyed, but troubled and disappointed, and
+so stood looking after him while he went to a drawer. Thence, searching
+in a corner of it, he brought a half-sovereign, a few shillings and some
+coppers, and held them out to her on his hand with the smile of one who
+has proved his point. "There!" he said, "do you think Paul would have
+stopped preaching to make a tent so long as he had as much as that in
+his pocket? I shall have more on Saturday, and I always carry a month's
+rent in my good old watch, for which I never had much use, and now have
+less than ever."
+
+Clementina had been struggling with herself: now she burst into tears.
+
+"Why, what a misspending of precious sorrow!" exclaimed the
+schoolmaster. "Do you think because a man has not a gold-mine he must
+die of hunger? I once heard of a sparrow that never had a worm left for
+the morrow, and died a happy death notwithstanding." As he spoke he took
+her handkerchief from her hand and dried her tears with it. But he had
+enough ado to keep his own back. "Because I won't take a bagful of gold
+from you when I don't want it," he went on, "do you think I should let
+myself starve without coming to you? I promise you I will let you
+know--come to you if I can--the moment I get too hungry to do my work
+well and have no money left. Should I think it a disgrace to take money
+from _you_? That would show a poverty of spirit such as I hope never to
+fall into. My _sole_ reason for refusing now is that I do not need it."
+
+But for all his loving words and assurances Clementina could not stay
+her tears. She was not ready to weep, but now her eyes were as a
+fountain.
+
+"See, then, for your tears are hard to bear, my daughter," he said, "I
+will take one of these golden ministers, and if it has flown from me ere
+you come, seeing that, like the raven, it will not return if once I let
+it go, I will ask you for another. It _may_ be God's will that you
+should feed me for a time."
+
+"Like one of Elijah's ravens," said Clementina, with an attempted laugh
+that was really a sob.
+
+"Like a dove whose wings are covered with silver and her feathers with
+yellow gold," said the schoolmaster.
+
+A moment of silence followed, broken only by Clementina's failures in
+quieting herself.
+
+"To me," he resumed, "the sweetest fountain of money is the hand of
+love, but a man has no right to take it from that fountain except he is
+in want of it. I am not. True, I go somewhat bare, my lady; but what is
+that when my Lord would have it so?"
+
+He opened again the bag, and slowly, reverentially indeed, drew from it
+one of the new sovereigns with which it was filled. He put it in a
+waistcoat pocket and laid the bag on the table.
+
+"But your clothes are shabby, sir," said Clementina, looking at him with
+a sad little shake of the head.
+
+"Are they?" he returned, and looked down at his lower garments,
+reddening and anxious. "I did not think they were more than a little
+rubbed, but they shine somewhat," he said. "They are indeed polished by
+use," he went on with a troubled little laugh: "but they have no holes
+yet--at least none that are visible," he corrected. "If you tell me, my
+lady, if you honestly tell me, that my garments"--and he looked at the
+sleeve of his coat, drawing back his head from it to see it better--"are
+unsightly, I will take of your money and buy me a new suit." Over his
+coat-sleeve he regarded her, questioning.
+
+"Everything about you is beautiful," she burst out. "You want nothing
+but a body that lets the light through." She took the hand still raised
+in his survey of his sleeve, pressed it to her lips, and walked, with
+even more than her wonted state, slowly from the room.
+
+He took the bag of gold from the table and followed her down the stair.
+Her chariot was waiting her at the door. He handed her in, and laid the
+bag on the little seat in front.
+
+"Will you tell him to drive home?" she said with a firm voice, and a
+smile which if any one care to understand let him read Spenser's
+fortieth sonnet. And so they parted. The coachman took the queer,
+shabby, un-London-like man for a fortune-teller his lady was in the
+habit of consulting, and paid homage to his power with the handle of his
+whip as he drove away. The schoolmaster returned to his room--not to his
+Plato, not even to Saul of Tarsus, but to the Lord himself.
+
+[TO BE CONTINUED]
+
+
+
+
+SOME LAST WORDS FROM SAINTE-BEUVE.
+
+
+It is seven years since the world of letters lost the prince of critics,
+the last of the critics. His unfinished and unpublished manuscripts were
+eagerly demanded and devoured; while obituaries, notices, reminiscences
+and those analyses which the French term _appreciations_ rained in from
+various quarters. The latest of these that deserves attention was an
+outline of Saint-Beuve's life and literary career by the Vicomte
+d'Haussonville, in which, with an affectation of impartiality and
+fairness, every page was streaked with malice; imperfect justice was
+done to Sainte-Beuve's intellect; his influence and reputation were
+understated; and a picture was given of him as a man which could not but
+be disagreeable and disappointing to the vast number who admired him as
+a writer. In regard to the first two points, ill-nature and inaccuracy
+can do no harm: Sainte-Beuve's fame and ability are perfectly well known
+to the reading public of to-day, and the opinion of posterity will rest
+upon his own merits rather than on the statements of any biographer, as
+he is one of the authors whose writings are sure to be more read than
+what other people write about them. The unpleasant personal impression
+is not so easily dismissed: however exaggerated we may be disposed to
+think it, the reflection occurs, "How this man was feared!" The
+appearance of the notice several years after Sainte-Beuve's death
+strengthens this conviction: M. d'Haussonville waited until his subject
+should be quite cold before he ventured to touch him.
+
+The causes of this dread and dislike are not to be found in
+Sainte-Beuve's voluminous works, nor have I met with any evidence of it
+in the writings of his literary contemporaries. He obviously held that
+it is a critic's duty to be just before he is generous, and there may be
+a lack of geniality in his praise, though it is not given grudgingly;
+but I cannot recall an instance of literary spite in the large
+proportion of his writings with which I am familiar. His judgments are
+often severe, never harsh: he frequently dealt in satire, rarely, as far
+as my memory serves, in sarcasm, and he condemns irony as one of the
+least intelligent dispositions of the mind. The only case in which I
+remember having suspected Sainte-Beuve of ill-nature was in a notice of
+J. J. Ampere printed in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ shortly after the
+latter's death; but a person who had known Ampere long and well, and on
+the friendliest terms, declared that it gave an entirely fair
+description of the man, who, full of talent and amiability as he was,
+had many weaknesses. Two pleas only can justify disinterring and
+gibbeting an author's private life--either his having done the same by
+others, or his having made the public the confidant of his individual
+experience. Few writers have intruded their own personality upon their
+readers less than Sainte-Beuve has done: the poems and novels of his
+youth, which won fervent admiration from the literary leaders of that
+day, De Vigny, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, are now forgotten: he is known
+to readers of the last half century by a series of critical and
+biographical essays extending from 1823 or 1824 to 1870, which combine
+every attribute of perfect criticism except enthusiasm. The most
+prominent feature of his method is the conscientiousness with which he
+credits the person upon whom he passes judgment with every particle of
+worth which can be extracted from his writings, acts or sayings: he
+adopts as the basis of criticism the acknowledgment of whatever merit
+may exist in the subject of consideration; and his talent and patience
+for sifting the grain from the chaff are remarkable and admirable. An
+author who has left some forty volumes conceived in this spirit should
+have been safe against an effusion of spleen in his biographer. I am not
+assailing the fidelity of M. d'Haussonville's portrait--of which I have
+no means of judging--but the temper in which it is executed, which can
+be judged without difficulty. Besides the injustice already mentioned,
+it is disfigured by tittle-tattle, which tends to render the original
+ridiculous and repulsive, but does not add one whit to our knowledge of
+Sainte-Beuve as a man or an author.
+
+A defence of Sainte-Beuve is not within the purpose of the present
+article; but it was impossible for one who has known him favorably for
+twenty years through his works and the testimony of his most
+distinguished literary compeers to speak of him at all without
+protesting against the detraction to which his memory has been
+subjected. Two small posthumous volumes have lately been issued in
+France,[C] revealing qualities which might expose the dead man to a mean
+revenge, though to most readers they will have a delightful freshness
+unspoiled by any bitter flavor. They consist of a series of notes on all
+sorts of subjects, literary, dramatic, religious and political, one of
+them being actually made up of the jottings in his later notebooks,
+while the other contains the memoranda of a sort of high-class gossip
+with which Sainte-Beuve supplied a friend, the editor of _La Revue
+Suisse_, during the years 1843-45. These were not to be published as
+they stood, but to be used by the editor, M. Juste Olivier, as he should
+think best: they are fragmentary, mere bits of raw material--if any
+product of that accomplished brain can be so termed--to be worked up by
+another hand. They were qualified by marginal observations, such as
+"This is for you alone," "This is rather strong," and they were to be
+absolutely anonymous, the author allowing himself the luxury of free
+speech, of writing exactly as he thought and felt; in short, of trusting
+his indiscretion to M. Olivier's discretion. The latter used his
+judgment independently; Sainte-Beuve's views and comments often became
+merely one ingredient in an article for which others supplied the rest;
+and the editor kneaded the whole into shape to his own liking. But the
+MSS. remained intact, and were confided by M. Olivier to M. Jules
+Troubat, Sainte-Beuve's private secretary and editor, who has published
+them in their integrity, he tells us, with the exception of "a few
+indispensable suppressions." The other volume, as we have said, is
+composed of his notebooks. These last were intended to take the place of
+memoirs by Sainte-Beuve himself, who wrote a short preface, under the
+name of M. Troubat, destined for a larger volume to appear after his
+death. He published, however, the greater part of those which he had
+already collected in vol. ii. of the _Causeries de Lundi_: the present
+series contains the notes which accumulated subsequently. M. Troubat has
+given them to the world as they stood. Both books abound in the
+characteristics of the author's style--good sense, moderation,
+perception, discrimination, delicacy, sparkle, unerring taste, as well
+as judgment in matters of intelligence. A parcel of disconnected
+passages cannot possess the flow and finish of a complete essay, but
+each bit has the clearness, incisiveness and smooth polish of his native
+wit. They give us Sainte-Beuve's first impression, thought, mental
+impulse, about daily events regarding which he sometimes afterward
+modified his opinion. Not often, however, for he had, if not precisely
+the prophetic vision which belongs to genius or minds illuminated by
+enthusiasm or sympathy, that keen far-sightedness which recognizes at a
+distance rather than foresees the coming event or man. He tells a
+quantity of anecdotes, and he had exactly the sort of humor and absence
+of tenderness for human weakness which perceives the point that makes a
+story good in the greatest variety of speeches and situations. The key
+to the dislike and fear with which some people must have regarded him
+while living lies probably in just this appreciation. It is vain to
+assert that humor is necessarily kindly, or the adjectives "grim" and
+"savage" would not so often be tacked to it. Nobody could have hoped
+that friendship would blind Sainte-Beuve to an absurdity: on the other
+hand, even his enemies might count on his recognition if they had said a
+good thing, and his not spoiling it in the repetition, as too many
+friends do. This produced an impartiality in his verdicts which is the
+moral essence of criticism, but perhaps the most trying quality to the
+subject of it: he says himself that he had irritated and envenomed more
+people by his praise than by his blame. He had not a high opinion of
+human nature, which is curiously illustrated by his female portraits:
+when there has been only a doubt of a woman's virtue, he never gives her
+the benefit of the doubt; when there has not been even the suspicion of
+a slip, he presumes that she kept her secrets better than most people
+do. He was sensitive to the accusation of cynicism, and resented
+extremely an article in _L'Union_ of June, 1855, in which he was set
+down as having not only a skeptical mind, but a skeptical heart; which
+was no doubt very nearly true. Yet he was on his guard against his
+natural cynicism in his literary judgments at least, as one need but
+glance over them to see. In the _Cahiers_ he cites an expression of his
+fair friend Madame d'Arbonville: "How many good things there are besides
+the things which we like! We ought to make room within ourselves for a
+certain _opposite_;" and he adds that this should be the motto of a
+liberal and intelligent critic. These convictions helped to make his
+criticism as admirable, as invaluable, as it is; but the sharpness from
+which his literary work is free makes his private observations on men
+and things more entertaining. There are few people so well-natured as
+not to enjoy the peculiar pungency which gives many of the passages in
+the two volumes before us their relish: now and then it is as if we had
+got hold of the cruets which were to season a whole article. There is a
+batch of anecdotes about Lamartine, whose conspicuous gifts and position
+put his puerile vanity in relief; and that vanity Sainte-Beuve never
+spared. Lamartine set the fashion of his own idolatry by constituting
+himself the high priest; adulation was not enough--he demanded
+adoration; and he received it. He had a habit of contemplating himself
+from an objective but highly-idealizing point of view, best expressed by
+saying that he had a hero-worship for himself: his memoirs and other
+autobiographical writings are full of it, and in his intercourse it
+perpetually overflowed. "That is the brow they have tried to bend to the
+dust!" he exclaimed, standing before his own likeness in Ary Scheffer's
+studio. Lord Houghton, among his many good stories, had one of spending
+an evening at Lamartine's in Paris with a circle of celebrities. Alfred
+de Vigny, who had been out of town, presented himself. "Welcome back!"
+said Lamartine magnificently. "You come from the provinces: do they
+admire us down there?"--"They adore you," replied De Vigny with a bow.
+The conversation was a prolonged paean to the host, with choral strophe
+and antistrophe. One of the party began to rehearse the aspects in which
+Lamartine was the greatest man in France--"As a poet, as an orator, as
+an historian, as a statesman;" and as he paused, "And as a _soldier_,"
+added Lamartine with a sublime gesture, "if ever France shall need him."
+This may have been the country neighbor who, we learn from Sainte-Beuve,
+pronounced Lamartine to be Fenelon without his didacticism, Rousseau
+without his sophistry, Mirabeau without his incendiary notions. Still,
+there were asides in the dialogue. One evening, the week before the
+overthrow of the provisional government of which Lamartine was
+president, he had a crowded reception, and, notwithstanding the failure
+and imminent downfall of his administration, he was radiant with
+satisfaction. "What can M. de Lamartine have to be so pleased about?"
+said one of his friends to another. "He is pleased with himself," was
+the reply.--"One of those speeches," observes Sainte-Beuve, "which only
+friends find to make." But Lamartine was by no means solitary in this
+infatuation. Sainte-Beuve remarks that "Nothing is so common in our
+days: some think themselves God, some the Son of God, some archangels.
+Pierre Leroux thinks himself the first, De Vigny the last: Lamartine is
+a good prince--he is satisfied to be a seraph."
+
+These books give us daily glimpses of Paris thirty years ago, of that
+incessant mental movement, inquiry, desire for novelty and vivacity of
+transient interest which dazzle the brain as the scintillation of the
+sun upon the unstable waves does the eye. In all great cities, quite as
+much as in villages, there is a topic which for the moment occupies
+everybody, and which cannot be escaped, whether you enter a
+drawing-room, pick up a newspaper or rush into the street: the chief
+difference is, that in the great cities it changes oftener--"every
+fortnight here," says Sainte-Beuve of Paris. The history of many a nine
+days' wonder may be gathered from the _Chroniques_: we can mark the
+first effect of occurrences startling at the time, some of which are now
+wholly forgotten, while others have become historical; we witness the
+appearance of new divinities who have since found their pedestals,
+niches or obscure corners. Among these was Ponsard, chiefly known in
+this country, to those who remember Mademoiselle Rachel's brief,
+gleaming transit, as the author of _Horace et Lydie_, a light, bright,
+graceful piece based upon Horace's "Donec gratus eram tibi."
+
+M. Ponsard, who was from the south of France, arrived in Paris in 1843
+with a tragedy called _Lucrece_, which had been in his pocket for three
+years. It was read first at the house of the actor Bocage before a
+party of artists, actors and men of letters such as Paris alone can
+bring together. The litterateurs gave their opinion with caution and an
+oracular ambiguity which did not commit them too much: Gautier, on being
+asked how he liked it, replied, "It did not put me to sleep;" but the
+sculptor Preault, not having a literary reputation at stake, declared
+that if there were a "Roman prize" for tragedy (as there is for music
+and the fine arts, entitling the fortunate competitor to four years'
+travel and study in classic lands at the expense of the government) the
+author would set out on the morrow for the Eternal City. The play was
+read again a week or two afterward in the drawing-room of the Comtesse
+d'Agoult, the beautiful, gifted, reckless friend of Lizst's youth, and
+mother of the wife of Von Bulow and Wagner. The success was complete.
+Sainte-Beuve was again present; and Lamartine was among the audience
+full of admiration: the poor young poet could not nerve himself to come.
+The play was read by Bocage, who took the principal part, that of
+Brutus, when it was brought out at the Odeon. The chaste Lucretia was
+played by Madame Dorval, whose strength lay in parts of a different
+kind, and who announced her new character to a friend with the comment,
+"I only play women of virtue now-a-days." Reports of the new tragedy,
+which had been heard only in secret session, soon got about Paris, and
+excited intense curiosity and impatience; one of the daily papers
+published a scene from _Lucrece_; the sale was immense; everybody
+praised it to the skies, even members of the Academy. The next day the
+hoax came out: a clever but third-rate writer, M. Mery, had made April
+fools of the wits of Paris. The piece itself was soon performed, and
+made what is called in this country an immense sensation: the theatre,
+long out of favor, was crowded every night; the papers were full of it
+every morning; it was the topic about which everybody talked. Authors
+who had lately written less popular plays were somewhat envious and
+spiteful; Victor Hugo pronounced _Lucrece_ to be Livy versified; Dumas
+repeated (or invented) the speech of an enthusiastic notary, who
+exclaimed, "What a piece! Not one of my clerks could have written it."
+Madame de Girardin had just brought out her tragedy of _Judith_ at the
+Theatre Francais, with the powerful support of Rachel in the principal
+character: the drama, when read by Rachel and Madame de Girardin (whose
+beauty, wit and social position gave her during her whole life a
+fictitious rank in a certain set, of which none were better aware than
+the members of it) in Madame Recamier's drawing-room, had produced a
+better effect than it did upon the stage, where it was considered a
+respectable failure. Madame de Girardin could not control or conceal her
+chagrin, and meeting M. Ponsard one evening at the Duchesse de
+Grammont's, declined to have him presented to her. He took his honors so
+quietly--so tamely in the opinion of some people--that Madame Dorval
+exhorted him: "Wake up! wake up! you look like a hen that has hatched an
+eagle's egg." Since the Augustan age of French literature, since
+Corneille and Racine, a really fine tragedy on a classic subject had
+been unknown, and the romantic reaction was then at its height. The
+moral view of _Lucrece_ was a new and important element of success. "The
+religious feeling of the Roman matron, the inviolability of the domestic
+hearth, are these not new? do not they count for much?" observed the
+virtuous philosopher Ballanche, the devoted, unselfish friend of Madame
+Recamier. Sainte-Beuve was greatly impressed by the nobility of the
+characters and treatment, and after pointing out its beauties and
+shortcomings, set the seal to his encomium by affirming that the secret
+of the power of _Lucrece_ was that it had soul.
+
+The extraordinary favor with which this play was received marked an
+epoch in a small way, a return to antique ideas and themes, to more
+elevated subjects and modes of dealing with them. Six weeks after its
+appearance Sainte-Beuve writes: "We have always been rather apish in
+France: the Grecian, Roman and biblical tragedies which every day now
+brings forth are innumerable. Who will deliver me from these Greeks and
+Romans? Here we are overrun by them again after forty years'
+insurrection, and by the Hebrews to boot." The high-water mark of the
+author's popularity was the publication of a trifle called the
+_Anti-Lucrece_, which was sold in the purlieus of the Odeon: next day
+there was a rumor that a second _Anti-Lucrece_ was in preparation. But
+the tide had turned: six months later, when the theatre reopened after
+the summer vacation with the same tragedy, Sainte-Beuve records:
+"_Lucrece_ has reappeared only to die, not by the poignard, but of
+languor, coldness, premature old age. It is frightful how little and how
+fast we live in these times--works as well as men. We survive ourselves
+and our children: the generations are turned upside down. Here is a
+piece which scarcely six months ago all Paris ran to hear without being
+asked:... now they are tired of it already, and can find nothing in it:
+it is like last year's snow." The death-blow of the tragedy was given,
+Sainte-Beuve says, not by the dagger, but by a luckless blunder of the
+actor who played Lucretia's father, and who, instead of saying,
+_L'assassin palissant_ ("The assassin turning pale,") said, _L'assassin
+polisson_ ("The scamp of an assassin"); which set everybody laughing;
+and that was the end of it.
+
+M. Ponsard might console himself, if he liked, by the reflection that
+his play, if not immortal, had killed his fair rival's _Judith_ and
+swallowed up Victor Hugo's _Burgraves_, which had been acted at the
+Theatre Francais a month before _Lucrece_ was first produced. Regarding
+the former, Sainte-Beuve shows unwonted tenderness or policy. "Never let
+me be too epigrammatic about Madame de Girardin," he wrote to M.
+Olivier: "I would not seem to play the traitor to her smiles;" though in
+reference to a sharp encounter between her and Jules Janin he hints that
+she has claws of her own. He does not deny himself the pleasure of
+mentioning Victor Hugo's little weaknesses. At the first three
+representations of _Les Burgraves_ the theatre was packed with the
+author's friends: on the fourth a less partial public hissed to that
+degree that the curtain was dropped, and thenceforward each night was
+stormier until the play was withdrawn. Hugo could not bring himself to
+allow that he had been hissed, and, being behind the scenes, said to the
+actors, with the fatal sibilation whistling through the house, "They are
+interrupting my play" (_On trouble ma piece_); which became a byword
+with these wicked wits. Sainte-Beuve, with his infallible instinct of
+wherein dwelt the vital greatness or defect of a production,
+characterizes the piece as an exaggeration. He admits that it has
+talent, especially in the preface, but adds, "Hugo sees all things
+larger than life: they look black to him--in _Ruy Blas_ they looked red.
+But there is grandeur in the _Burgraves_: he alone, or Chateaubriand,
+could have written the introduction.... The banks of the Rhine are not
+so lofty and thunder-riven as he makes out, nor is Thessaly so black,
+nor Notre Dame so enormous, but more elegant, as may be seen from the
+pavement. But this is the defect of his eye."
+
+Amidst these theatrical diversions the chronicler alludes to the
+fashionable preaching which occupied the gay world at hours when
+playhouses and drawing-rooms were not open. There was a religious
+revival going on in Paris almost equal to that which Moody and Sankey
+have produced here. "During Passion Week" (1843) "the crowd in all the
+churches, but at Notre Dame particularly, was prodigious. M. de Ravignan
+preached three times a day--at one o'clock for the women of the gay
+world, in the evening for the men, at other hours for the workingmen. He
+adapted his sermons to the different classes: to the women of the world
+he spoke as a man who knows the world and has belonged to it. They
+rushed, they crowded, they wept. I do not know how many communicants
+there were at Easter, but I believe the figure has not been so high for
+fifty years." At Advent of the same year the same scenes were repeated,
+with the Abbe Lacordaire in the pulpit. This excitement, and the debates
+in the Chamber on the subject of the theological lectures at the
+Sorbonne and College of France, call forth some excellent pages
+regarding the condition of Catholicism in France and the Gallican
+Church, and a brief, rapid review of the causes of the decline of the
+latter, which Sainte-Beuve asserts (more than thirty years ago) to be
+defunct. "Gallicanism, the noblest child of Catholicism, is dead before
+his father, _who in his dotage remains obstinately faithful to his
+principles_.... Gallicanism in its dissolution left a vast patrimony:
+the Jesuits may grab a huge bit of it, but the bulk will be diminished
+and disseminated.... At the rate things are going, Catholicism is
+tending to become _a sect_." The insight of this is as remarkable as the
+expression. Some years afterward, marking the progress of liberal ideas
+in religion, he says: "Men's conceptions of God are constantly changing.
+What was the atheism of yesterday will be the deism of to-morrow."
+
+There are few Frenchman of any calling who are indifferent to politics,
+and the men of letters almost without exception are interested
+spectators when not actors in public affairs. From 1843 to 1845, the
+period of the _Chroniques_, was a dead calm in the political horizon of
+France, undisturbed by the little distant cloud of warfare in Algiers:
+the Legitimists worked up farcical fermentations which had no more body
+or head than those of the present day, although the chances of the party
+were rather better. The duke of Bordeaux (as the Comte de Chambord was
+then called) made an excursion to England one Christmas, which was
+seized as an occasion, or more probably was a preconcerted signal, for a
+dreary little demonstration of loyalty on the part of his adherents, who
+crossed over to pay their respects to him in London: by great
+arithmetical efforts their number was added up and made to amount to
+four hundred, though whether so many really went was doubted. There were
+a few old noblemen of great family: Berryer the eminent lawyer and
+Chateaubriand were the only names of individual distinction in the list,
+and the chief results were that Queen Victoria was annoyed (some of the
+Orleans family being on a visit to her at the time) and intimated her
+annoyance, and that the superb Chateaubriand was spoken of in the
+English newspapers as "the good old man;" which Sainte-Beuve enjoyed
+extremely.
+
+The _Cahiers_ extend from 1847 to 1869, including the vicissitudes which
+brought about the Second Empire, whose annihilation Sainte-Beuve died
+half a year too soon to witness. In January, 1848, he felt the storm
+brewing in the air, though he little guessed from what quarter it would
+come nor on whose head it would burst. On the revolution of the 24th of
+February he writes: "What events! what a dream! I was prepared for much,
+but not so soon, nor for this.... I am tempted to believe in the nullity
+of every judgment, my own in particular--I who make it a business to
+judge others, and am so short-sighted.... The future will disclose what
+no one can foresee. There is no use in talking of ordinary wisdom
+and prudence: they have been utterly at fault. Guizot, the
+historian-philosopher, has turned out more stupid than a Polignac:
+Utopia and the poet's dream, on the contrary, have become facts and
+reality. I forgive Lamartine everything: he has been great during these
+days, and done honor to the poetic nature." But afterward, in looking
+back to the poet's reign, he grew satirical: "It was in the time of the
+good provisional government, which did so many things and left so many
+undone. The fortunes of France crumbled to pieces in a fortnight, but it
+was under the invocation of equality and fraternity. As to liberty, it
+only existed for madmen, and the wise took good care to make no use of
+it. 'The great folk are terribly scared,' said my portress, but the
+small fry triumphed: it was their turn. So much had never been said
+about work before, and so little was never done. People walked about all
+day, planted liberty-trees at every street-corner, illuminated
+willy-nilly, and perorated in the clubs and squares until midnight. The
+Exchange rang with disasters in the morning: in the evening it sparkled
+with lanterns and fireworks. It was the gayest anarchy for the lower
+classes of Paris, who had no police and looked after themselves. The
+street-boys ran about with flags; workmen without work, but paid
+nevertheless, walked in perpetual procession; the demireps had kicked
+over the traces, and on the sidewalks the most virtuous
+fellow-citizenesses were hugged without ceremony: it must be added that
+they did not resent it too much. The grisettes, having nothing to eat,
+gave themselves away for nothing or next to nothing, as during the
+Fronde. The chorus of the Girondists was sung on every open lot, and
+there was a feast of addresses. Lamartine wrought marvels such as
+Ulysses might have done, and he was the siren of the hour. Yet they
+laughed and joked, and the true French wit revived. There was general
+good-humor and amiability in those first days of a most licentious
+spring sunshine. There was an admixture of bad taste, as there always is
+in the people of Paris when they grow sentimental. They made grotesque
+little gardens round the liberty-trees, which they watered
+assiduously.... The small fry adored their provisional government, as
+they formerly did their good king Louis XII., and more than one simple
+person said with emotion, 'It must be admitted that we are well
+governed, _they talk so well!_'" Before three months had elapsed the
+provisional government was at an end: "their feet slipped in
+blood--literally, in torrents of blood." "The politicians of late years
+have been playing a game of chess, intent wholly upon the board, but
+never giving a thought to the table under the board. But the table was
+alive, the back of a people which began to move, and in the twinkling of
+an eye chessboard and men went to the devil."
+
+Among the entries of the next ten or twelve years are sketches of the
+leading statesmen and scraps of their conversation: those of Thiers are
+very animated. Sainte-Beuve says that he has a happiness of verbal
+expression which eludes his pen; "yet raise him upon a pinnacle of works
+of art" (of which M. Thiers has always been a patron publicly and
+privately), "of historical monuments and flatterers, and he will never
+be aught but the cleverest of marmosets." If he had lived another
+twelvemonth, Sainte-Beuve might have had some other word for the Great
+Citizen. On Guizot he is still more severe, making him out a mere
+humbug, and of the poorest sort. When the poet Auguste Barbier became a
+candidate for the French Academy, M. Guizot had never heard of him, and
+had to be told all about him and his verses--there was surely no
+disgrace in this ignorance on the part of a man engrossed in studies and
+pursuits of a more serious nature--but before a week was over he was
+heard expressing amazement that another person knew nothing of Barbier,
+and talking of his poems as if he had always been familiar with them.
+The Duchesse de Broglie said: "What M. Guizot has known since morning he
+pretends to have known from all eternity."
+
+This paper might be prolonged almost to the length of the volumes
+themselves by quoting all the keen, sagacious or brilliant sayings
+which they contain. Two more, merely to exemplify Sainte-Beuve's command
+of words in very different lines of thought: "The old fragments of cases
+in [Greek: phi] and [Greek: then], the ancient remains of verbs in
+[Greek: mi] the second aorists, which alone survive the other submerged
+tenses, always produce the same effect upon me, in view of the regular
+declensions and conjugations, as the multitude of the isles and Cyclades
+in relation to the Peloponnesus and the rest of the mainland on the map
+of Greece: there was a time when they were all one. The rocks and peaks
+still stand to attest it."--"_Never_ is a word which has always brought
+bad luck to him who used it from the tribune."
+
+M. Troubat speaks of the correspondence of Sainte-Beuve as destined for
+publication: the _Chroniques_ and _Cahiers_ are like anchovies to whet
+the appetite for a longer and more continuous reading.
+
+                                      SARAH B. WISTER.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[C] _Chroniques Parisiennes_ and _Les Cahiers de Sainte-Beuve_.
+
+
+
+
+A FEW LETTERS.
+
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, April 12, 1872.
+
+Dear Cousin Bessie: It does not seem possible that but two months from
+to-day I saw you standing on your porch in good old Applethorpe bidding
+me an April "farewell." I can see you now, as I saw you then,
+smiling--or rather laughing--and saying, "Write! write often; and if you
+can't find any _real_ news, make something up." I little thought then I
+should so soon find material for correspondence. He was very sick at
+first, but really seems better now. But I forgot you don't know anything
+about him. Well! neither do _I_ much, but "what I have I give unto
+thee." So, I'll begin at the beginning of my romance.
+
+Day before yesterday, as I was engaged in the very romantic work of
+ploughing, I heard a clattering of hoofs and the snort and pant of a
+horse at full tear. In an instant the runaway was brought up, bang!
+against my fence. It was the work of but a moment to leap over and seize
+the animal. I then perceived his rider clinging, senseless, to the
+saddle by one stirrup. It is a great mercy to him that he was not
+killed, but he had been dragged but a short distance, and was therefore
+not severely injured. I secured the horse to the fence as quickly as
+possible, and then disengaged the gentleman. Upon removing him to the
+house, sending for a physician and applying various remedies, his
+consciousness was restored, and we soon discovered his injuries as well
+as a little of his history. His wounds prove to be bruises about the
+head and face (more disfiguring than serious), and a broken leg which
+it will take several weeks to cure.
+
+So here he is on my hands till he is well. I'm not sorry, either, for
+"it is not good for man to be alone," and I find him my nearest
+neighbor--like me an orphan, like me with a small fortune, consisting
+principally of his farm, and about my age. I've no doubt we shall get
+along capitally. I shall write every few days of his progress, knowing
+that you will be interested in whatever interests me. Don't forget to
+send me all the gossip of Applethorpe, for I am going to make my
+neighbor acquainted with all the inhabitants of Applethorpe by
+proxy--_i. e._, through your letters; so write your most entertaining
+ones, as I expect to read them all aloud to amuse and interest a
+captious invalid. "No more at present" from your affectionate cousin,
+
+                                    PHILIP AUBREY.
+
+
+TO MISS BESSIE LINTON, Applethorpe.
+
+                              APPLETHORPE, April 20, 1872.
+
+MY DEAR BOY: Your letter duly rec'd. I am glad you have found
+companionship, though I am sorry for him that it should be an accident
+that literally "threw" him in your way. You did not tell me his name, or
+anything but the bare fact of his accident. Be sure that you will find
+in me an interested listener--or rather _reader_--of anything you may
+choose to tell me. But don't leave accounts of _yourself_ out of your
+letters in order to make room for _him_. Remember, you are my only
+relation, the only person in the world in whom I have a right to be
+interested. It does not seem possible to me, when I think of it, that
+there is only five years' difference in our ages: why, I'm sure I feel
+ten years older, instead of five. I was very young at fifteen to take
+charge of a great boy of ten; and if it were not that you were the good
+boy you always were, I never could have fulfilled the charge your dying
+mother left me. Do not think, dear, I was not _glad_ to do it for her.
+Could I ever, _ever_, if I worked five times as hard as I have since she
+left you, repay all that she did for me, the poor miserable, shy orphan
+left to her care?
+
+But out upon these memories! Let us deal with the present and future.
+
+_Item._ Mary Montrose's engagement to Joel Roberts is "out" to-day. I'm
+glad, for I'm tired of keeping the secret. Poor dear Mary! I do _hope_
+she will be happy. She inquires very cordially after you every time she
+sees me. She doesn't know she blasted one of my most precious hopes when
+she told me she was engaged to Joel.
+
+Good-bye, dear! Be sure and write long letters to your affectionate
+cousin,
+
+                                    BESSIE L----.
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, April 30, 1872.
+
+DEAR BESS: Please excuse my not answering your last two letters, on the
+plea of business. Indeed, working and waiting on my friend, George
+Hammond, have occupied all my time.
+
+Now, Bessie, I want you to do something for me. Yesterday, when I got
+your letter, I read it aloud as usual, George looking very sad the
+while. When I was done he said in a trembling tone, "I wish to heaven
+there was some one in the world nearly enough related to me to care to
+write to me! But I am alone, entirely alone;" and his eyes filled.
+(Forgive his weakness, Bess: he has been very sick.) I tried to cheer
+him, but all to no purpose till an idea struck him. His face
+brightening, he said, "Do you believe, Philip--I know it is a great deal
+to ask--but do you believe you could persuade your cousin to write to
+_me_? I should prize it _so_ much. Do you think she _would_? Just fancy
+what it is never to receive a letter from any one except a
+business-man!"
+
+Now, Bessie, _won't_ you write him once in a while? There is not a
+particle of harm in it, and I assure you it will be a real boon to the
+poor fellow. Just imagine him lying here on his back day after day, and
+not a thing to amuse him but my company!
+
+Of course you'll say that you can have nothing to write about to a
+stranger. But you'll soon find something, _I_ know: I'll trust to your
+"woman's wit." Ask him about his past life: begin _that_ way. But there!
+I'll not give you any advice on the subject: you understand writing
+letters better than I do. So good-bye, "fair coz." Pray accede to my
+request.
+
+                                    Yours, etc.,
+                                       PHILIP A----.
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, July 1, 1872.
+
+MY DEAREST BESSIE: I'm getting jealous! Twice within a week have you
+written to George Hammond, and but once to me. Your letters to him are
+long, I know, for I see him read them. The correspondence is become
+something desperate--no wonder. He has just told me that through your
+letters he has become very deeply attached to you, and that when I
+return home at the end of another week he will come and plead his cause
+personally. He asks my benediction. I am sure he has my most hearty good
+wishes, and I do hope, Bessie dear, you may be inclined to say "Yes."
+Then, after you are married, you can come out here and settle down near
+your only remaining relative for the rest of your natural existence. You
+smile and shake your head, and say, "Oh yes, that will last till Philip
+marries!" But I say that if I see you and George Hammond united, it is
+all I ask.
+
+But I shall say no more. He can plead better by word of mouth than I by
+paper, I hope. Ever your devoted
+
+                                                PHILIP.
+
+                                 TO MISS BESSIE LINTON.
+
+A week later, Bessie Linton, fair and young spite of her thirty years,
+waited at the Applethorpe station in her pony-carriage for her cousin
+and his friend. She was possessed by so many emotions that she hardly
+knew whether she most wished or most dreaded seeing the visitors. That
+she was herself deeply interested in George Hammond she did not pretend
+to deny even to herself; yet just at the last she dreaded seeing him. It
+seemed to bring everything so near.
+
+The whistle sounded round the bend, and in another moment the dreaded,
+hoped-for train arrived. There alighted from it a number of passengers,
+but none that Bessie recognized at all. Presently there came toward her
+a gentleman with full beard and moustache, holding out his hand and
+exclaiming, "Cousin Bessie, don't you know me?"
+
+"Why, Philip Aubrey! No, I _didn't_. Why, where--" and she hesitated a
+half second--"where is my Philip gone?"
+
+"He's here alive and hearty, and the same old scapegrace, I'm afraid."
+
+Then, seeing the look of inquiry and suspense on her face, he added with
+considerable embarrassment, "George didn't come just yet. I'll tell you
+all about it when we get home."
+
+She was forced to be satisfied, but a nameless feeling of "something"
+made the drive a rather silent one, although each tried spasmodically to
+start a conversation. Tea over, Philip drew Bessie out into the garden,
+and sitting down in a rustic scat, said, "Bessie, come and sit down: I
+want to talk to you." Simply, straightforwardly as of old, she came.
+
+"Bessie dear," said Philip, "I have something to say, and don't know how
+to say it. But I guess the only way is to tell the truth at once. There
+is no such person as George Hammond."
+
+Bessie's heart-blood stopped for what seemed half an hour, and then she
+articulated slowly, "Then who wrote those letters, Philip?"
+
+"_I_ did," he answered sadly.
+
+She started away from him as if he had been a serpent. She walked up and
+down like a caged animal. At last her scorn burst forth: "_You_, Philip
+Aubrey! _you_! You have dared to laugh me to scorn, have you? You have
+dared to presume that because I am what the world calls an 'old maid,' I
+am a fit mark for the arrows of the would-be wits? Philip Aubrey, all I
+have to wish is, that your actions may recoil upon yourself." She would
+have said more, but her feelings overcame her entirely, and sitting down
+she covered her face with her hand, the tears trickling through her
+fingers.
+
+"Oh, Bessie! Bessie! they have. Bitterly have I repented of my ruse. But
+I know if you will hear me you will not judge me harshly."
+
+She drew herself up, and throwing all possible scorn into her face,
+said, "Go! and if there remains in your body one vestige of feeling
+belonging to a gentleman, never let me look upon your face again."
+
+Like a stricken cur he went from her presence. He knew her too well: he
+knew that once roused as she now was, years could not efface her
+impression. He knew she would listen to no apology, no word of any kind;
+so the only thing left for him to do, as she had expressed it, was to
+"leave her presence."
+
+As soon as he was fairly gone Bessie rose, went into the house, locked
+herself in her own room and struggled with herself. She did not even
+pretend to herself that her trouble was not hard to bear. What did life
+hold for her now? She had not even the cousin on whom her affections had
+so long been centred as her one living relation.
+
+"Oh, if he had only died! if he had only died before he deceived me this
+way!" she moaned, "I think I should have borne it more easily. It cannot
+be called the thoughtless trick of a boy: he is too old, and has carried
+it on too long, and planned it all too systematically, for that."
+
+Three hours after she came from her vigil pale and silent, but a
+conqueror. A little card stuck in the drawing-room mirror told her that
+Philip had started for New York on his way to his Western home again.
+
+"I declare, Ophelie, Bessie Linton's awful queer about Philip Aubrey.
+Last night I says to her, says I, 'Bessie, I hear Philip Aubrey's
+home--is he?' First she turned mighty red, and then as white as a sheet,
+and she seemed kind a-chokin' like; but in a moment she says, 'So he
+was, Mrs. Dartle, but he found some pressing business that took him back
+a great deal sooner than he expected.' 'La!' says I, 'what a pity! You
+ain't seen him for so long, and you was so attached to him!' And she
+says, just as cold as an ice-pitcher, 'I shall miss him very much. Have
+you seen my new heliotrope, Mrs. Dartle?' So I couldn't say anything
+more, but I declare to man I'd give a penny to know what's the
+matter--such friends as they used to be, too! You may depend upon it the
+fault's on his side. Mebbe he's done something dreadful."
+
+So things got whispered around, not very much to the credit of Mr.
+Aubrey, but after Mrs. Dartle's rebuff no one dared question Miss
+Linton, knowing her so well.
+
+Day succeeded day, and no one knew the bitterness that filled Miss
+Linton's heart so full that it seemed as if it must burst. Then came a
+letter from Philip. "Shall I open it? No, I will send it back. That he
+should dare to write again!" One mail followed another, and still the
+letter was unsent, was unopened. At last, after a fortnight had passed,
+her good sense got the better of her ill-feeling, and she said to
+herself, "I will at least see what he can say for himself in excuse. I
+need not answer it." So she opened it, and read as follows:
+
+                              BROOKSIDE, October 8, 1872.
+
+MY MUCH-ABUSED COUSIN: I dare not even _hope_ that you will not return
+this unopened. But if you do open it I hope you may read what I have to
+say without _too_ bitter feelings. Where shall I commence to tell you my
+story?
+
+You know what you said in regard to "making up" news, and one day as I
+was out riding my horse _did_ land me at my own fence in the way I
+described. For weeks I lay on a bed of the most excruciating torture.
+Then I began to recover, and although I was confined to a sofa my
+faculties were on the alert, and I was pretty nearly distracted for
+something to do to amuse myself with. Finally, a brilliant idea struck
+me, and you were the victim of its execution. Believe me, believe me,
+Bessie dear, I only meant it for the harmless amusement of a week or
+two, but I became so interested in your letters to my imaginary friend
+that I could not bear to give them up. I had, Bessie, as I told you,
+learned to love you from your letters. They were so precious to me, it
+seemed like tearing from me a part of my very life to think of letting
+you know how I had deceived you, and so closing all the correspondence
+(which meant so much to me) between us. You will say I was cowardly. I
+_was_: I know it, and I admit it. But, Bessie, Bessie, I loved you so!
+Let my love plead for me. I thought it would be easier for me to tell
+you face to face. But God knows the hardest task I ever set myself was
+telling you how I had deceived you.
+
+Bessie, don't cast me off! Can't you find a little corner in your heart
+wherein I may rest? Let me be your cousin: of course I dare not hope
+ever to be anything dearer. But if you only will forgive me the trick
+into which I was led by sickness and want of amusement, and afterward
+continued from love of you, it is all I dare ask.
+
+                                    Ever your devoted
+                                      PHILIP.
+
+Emotions of various kinds seized the soul of Bessie Linton as she read
+Philip's letter once, twice, thrice. First, her heart was hardened to
+anything he might say--then as he told of his sufferings a little pity
+crept in; and finally, as she concluded the last word for the third
+time, her heart was so overflowing with pity--which is akin to
+love--that she--forgave him.
+
+At least, so I suppose, as they passed my window just now laughing, and
+as happy a married couple as ever you saw, if she _is_ "five years older
+than he is, and had the bringin' of him up," to use Mrs. Dartle's
+expression.
+
+                                        E. C. HEWITT.
+
+
+
+
+FROM THE FLATS.
+
+
+    What heartache--ne'er a hill!
+    Inexorable, vapid, vague and chill
+    The drear sand-levels drain my spirit low.
+    With one poor word they tell me all they know;
+    Whereat their stupid tongues, to tease my pain,
+    Do drawl it o'er again and o'er again.
+    They hurt my heart with griefs I cannot name:
+        Always the same, the same.
+
+    Nature hath no surprise,
+    No ambuscade of beauty 'gainst mine eyes
+    From brake or lurking dell or deep defile;
+    No humors, frolic forms--this mile, that mile;
+    No rich reserves or happy-valley hopes
+    Beyond the bends of roads, the distant slopes
+    Her fancy fails, her wild is all run tame:
+        Ever the same, the same.
+
+    Oh might I through these tears
+    But glimpse some hill my Georgia high uprears,
+    Where white the quartz and pink the pebbles shine,
+    The hickory heavenward strives, the muscadine
+    Swings o'er the slope, the oak's far-falling shade
+    Darkens the dogwood in the bottom-glade,
+    And down the hollow from a ferny nook
+        Bright leaps a living brook!
+
+                                 SIDNEY LANIER.
+
+
+
+
+A DAY'S MARCH THROUGH FINLAND.
+
+
+"Why don't you go to Imatra?" asks my friend P---- as we lean over the
+side of the Peterhof steamer and watch the golden domes of St.
+Petersburg rising slowly from the dull gray level of the Gulf of
+Finland. "Now that you've seen a bit of Central Russia, that's the next
+thing for you to do. Go to Imatra, and I'll go too."
+
+"And where on earth _is_ Imatra?" ask I innocently.
+
+"Oh come! you don't mean to say you've never heard of Imatra? Why,
+everybody knows it. Let's go there next week."
+
+Nevertheless, it so happens that I have _not_ heard of Imatra--an
+ignorance probably shared by most people out of Russia, and perhaps not
+a few in it. But I am destined to a speedier acquaintance than I had
+anticipated with the famous waterfall (or "foss," as the natives call
+it), which, lying forty miles due north of the Finnish port of Viborg,
+close to the renowned "Saima Lake," attracts the amateur fishermen of
+St. Petersburg by scores every summer.
+
+The proposed trip comes at an auspicious moment, for St. Petersburg in
+July is as thoroughly a "city of the dead" as London in September or
+Chamouni in January; and the average tourist, having eaten cabbage-soup
+at Wolff's or Dominique's, promenaded the Nevski Prospect and bought
+photographs in the Gostinni-Dvor (the Russian Regent street and
+Burlington Arcade), witnessed a service in the Isaac Church, and perhaps
+gone on to Moscow to stare at the Kremlin and the Monster Bell, must
+either await the approach of winter or fall back upon the truly British
+consolation of being able to "say that he has been there." Then is the
+time for suburban or rural jaunts; for picnics at Peterhof and drives to
+Oranienbaum; for wandering through the gardens of Catherine II. at
+Tsarskoe-Selo ("Czar's Village") and eating curds and cream at
+Pavlovski; for surveying the monastery of Strelna or the batteries of
+Cronstadt; or, finally, for taking the advice of my roving friend and
+going to Imatra.
+
+Accordingly, behold all our preparations made--knapsacks packed,
+tear-and-wear garments put in requisition, many-colored Russian notes
+exchanged (at a fearful discount) for dingy Finnish silver[D]--and at
+half-past ten on a not particularly bright July morning we stand on the
+deck of the anything but "good ship" Konstantin, bound for Viborg.
+
+Despite her tortoise qualities as a steamer, however (which prolong our
+voyage to nearly nine hours), the vessel is really luxurious in her
+accommodations; and were her progress even slower, the motley groups
+around us (groups such as only Dickens could describe or Leech portray)
+would sufficiently beguile the time--jaunty boy-officers in brand-new
+uniforms, gallantly puffing their _papirossi_ (paper cigarettes) in
+defiance of coming nausea, and discussing the merits of the new opera
+loud enough to assure every one within earshot that they know nothing
+whatever about it; squat Finnish peasants, whose round, puffy faces and
+thick yellow hair are irresistibly suggestive of overboiled
+apple-dumplings; gray-coated Russian soldiers, with the dogged endurance
+of their race written in every line of their patient, solid, unyielding
+faces; a lanky Swede, whose huge cork hat and broad collar give him the
+look of an exaggerated medicine-bottle; the inevitable tourist in the
+inevitable plaid suit, struggling with endless convolutions of
+fishing-tackle and hooking himself in a fresh place at every turn; three
+or four pale-faced clerks on leave, looking very much as if their
+"overwork" had been in some way connected with cigars and bad brandy; a
+German tradesman from Vasili-Ostroff (with the short turnip-colored
+moustache characteristic of Wilhelm in his normal state), in dutiful
+attendance on his wife, who is just completing her preparations for
+being comfortably ill as soon as the vessel starts; and a fine specimen
+of the real British merchant, talking vehemently (in a miraculous
+dialect of his own invention) to a Russian official, whose air of
+studied politeness shows plainly that he does not understand a word of
+his neighbor's discourse.
+
+Directly we go off the rain comes on, with that singular fatality
+characteristic of pleasure-trips in general, arising, doubtless, from
+the mysterious law which ordains that a man shall step into a puddle the
+instant he has had his boots blacked, and that a piece of
+bread-and-butter shall fall (how would Sir Isaac Newton have accounted
+for it?) with the buttered side downward. In a trice the deck is
+deserted by all save two or three self-devoted martyrs in macintosh, who
+"pace the plank" with that air of stern resolution worn by an Englishman
+when dancing a quadrille or discharging any other painful duty. The
+scenery throughout the entire voyage consists chiefly of fog, relieved
+by occasional patches of sand-bank; and small wonder if the superior
+attractions of the well-spread dinner-table detain most of our
+fellow-sufferers below. What is this first dish that they offer us? _Raw
+salmon_, by the shade of Soyer! sliced thin and loaded with pepper. Then
+follow soup, fried trout, roast beef, boiled ditto, slices of German
+sausage, neck of veal and bacon, fried potatoes and cabbage. Surely,
+now, "Hold, enough!" Not a bit of it: enter an enormous plum-pudding,
+which might do duty for a globe at any provincial school; next, a dish
+of rice and preserve, followed by some of the strongest conceivable
+cheese; finally, strawberries, and bilberries, with cream and sugar _ad
+libitum_. Involuntarily I recall the famous old American story of the
+"boss" at a railway refreshment-room who demanded fifty cents extra from
+a passenger who stuck to the table after all the rest had dined and gone
+away. "Your board says, 'Dinner, three dollars and fifty cents!'"
+remonstrated the victim.--"Ah! that's all very well for reasonable
+human bein's with one stomach apiece," retorted the Inexorable; "but
+when a feller eats _as if there were no hereafter_, we've got to pile it
+on!"
+
+As we pass Cronstadt the fog "lifts" slightly, giving us a momentary
+glimpse of the huge forts that guard the passage--the locked door which
+bars out Western Europe. There is nothing showy or pretentious about
+these squat, round-shouldered, narrow-eyed sentinels of the channel; but
+they have a grim air of reserved strength, as though they could be
+terribly effective in time of need. Two huge forts now command the
+"southern channel," in addition to the four which guarded it at the time
+of the Baltic expedition during the Crimean war; and the land-batteries
+(into which no outsider is now admitted without special permission) are
+being strengthened by movable shields of iron and other appliances of
+the kind, for which nearly one million roubles (one hundred and fifty
+thousand pounds) have been set apart. The seaward approaches are
+commanded by numerous guns of formidable calibre, and far away on the
+long, level promontory of the North Spit we can just descry a dark
+excrescence--the battery recently constructed for the defence of the
+"northern passage." Thus, from the Finnish coast to Oranienbaum a
+bristling line of unbroken fortification proclaims Russia's aversion to
+war, and the gaping mouths of innumerable cannon announce to all who
+approach, with silent eloquence, that "L'empire c'est la paix." It is a
+fine political parable that the Western traveler's first glimpse of
+Russian civilization should assume the form of a line of batteries,
+reminding one of poor Mungo Park's splendid unconscious sarcasm, when,
+while wandering helplessly in the desert, he came suddenly upon a gibbet
+with a man hanging in chains upon it; "Whereupon," says he, "I kneeled
+down and gave hearty thanks to Almighty God, who had been pleased to
+conduct me once more into a Christian and civilized country."
+
+As the afternoon creeps on the rain seems to fall heavier, the fog to
+brood thicker, the steamer to go (if possible) slower than before.
+However, everything earthly has an end except a suit in chancery; and by
+nightfall (if there _be_ any nightfall in this wonderful region, where
+it is lighter at midnight than in England at daybreak) we reach Viborg,
+a neat little town built along the edge of a narrow inlet, with the
+straight, wide, dusty streets which characterize every Russian town from
+Archangelsk to Sevastopol. Along the edge of the harbor runs a well
+laid-out promenade, a favorite resort after sunset, when the cool breeze
+from the gulf comes freshly in after the long, sultry hours of the
+afternoon. Behind it cluster, like a heap of colored pebbles, the
+painted wooden houses of the town; while over all stands, like a veteran
+sentinel, the gray massive tower of the old castle, frowning upon the
+bristling masts of the harbor like the Past scowling at the Present.
+
+The rippling sea in front and the dark belt of forest behind give the
+whole place a very picturesque appearance; but the beauty of the latter
+is sorely marred by the destroying sweep of a recent hurricane, traces
+of which are still visible in the long swathes of fallen trees that lie
+strewn amid the greenwood, like the dead among the living.
+
+In the solemn, subdued light of the northern evening we rattle in a
+crazy drosky over the uneven stones of the town into the vast desolate
+square in which stands the solitary hotel, a huge barrack-like building,
+up and down which we wander for some time, like the prince in the
+Sleeping Beauty's palace, without meeting any sign of life, till at
+length in a remote corner we come suddenly upon a chubby little waiter
+about the size of a well-grown baby, to whom we give our orders. This,
+however, is his first and last appearance, for every time we ring a
+different waiter, of the same diminutive size, answers the bell; which
+oppresses us with an undefined apprehension of having got into a
+charity-school by mistake.
+
+When I first made the acquaintance of Viborg, a journey thither from St.
+Petersburg, though the distance by land is only about eighty miles, was
+no light undertaking. The daring traveler who elected to travel by road
+had no choice but to provide himself with abundant wrappings and a good
+stock of food, draw his strong boots up to his knee, fortify his inner
+man with scalding tea or fiery corn-whisky, and struggle through
+axle-deep mud or breast-high snow (according to the season), sometimes
+for two days together. "Mais nous avons change tout cela." Two trains
+run daily from St. Petersburg, covering the whole distance in about four
+hours, and the stations along the line, though bearing marks of hasty
+construction, are still sufficiently comfortable and well supplied with
+provisions. Thanks to this direct communication with the capital, Viborg
+is now completely _au fait_ of the news of the day, and all fashionable
+topics are canvassed as eagerly on the promenade of this little Finnish
+seaport as along the pavements of the Nevski Prospect.
+
+"We must breakfast early to-morrow, mind," says P---- as we settle into
+our respective beds, "for a march in the sun here is no joke, you bet!"
+
+"Worse than in Arabia or South America?" ask I with calm scorn.
+
+"You'll find the north of Russia a pretty fair match for both at this
+season. Do you happen to know that one of the hottest places in the
+world is Archangelsk on the White Sea? In summer the pitch melts off the
+vessels like butter, and the mosquitoes are so thick that the men on
+board the grain-ships fairly burrow into the corn for shelter.[E]
+Good-night! Sharp six to-morrow, mind!"
+
+Accordingly, the early daylight finds us tramping along the edge of the
+picturesque little creek (dappled here and there with wood-crowned
+islets) in order to get well into our work before the sun is high in the
+sky, for a forty-mile march, knapsack on shoulder, across a difficult
+country, in the heat of a real Russian summer, is not a thing to be
+trifled with, even by men who have seen Turkey and Syria. A sudden turn
+of the road soon blots out the sea, and we plunge at once into the
+green silent depths of the northern forest.
+
+It is characteristic of the country that, barely out of sight of one of
+the principal ports of Finland, we are in the midst of a loneliness as
+utter as if it had never been broken by man. The only tokens of his
+presence are the narrow swathe of road running between the dim, unending
+files of the shadowy pine trees, and the tall wooden posts, striped
+black and white like a zebra, which mark the distance in versts from
+Viborg, the verst being two-thirds of a mile.
+
+To an unpractised eye the marvelous smoothness and hardness of this
+forest highway (unsurpassed by any macadamized road in England) might
+suggest a better opinion of the local civilization than it deserves; for
+in this case it is the soil, not the administration, that merits all the
+credit. In granite-paved Finland, as in limestone-paved Barbados, Nature
+has already laid down your road in a way that no human engineering can
+rival, and all you have to do is to smooth it to your own liking.
+
+And now the great panorama of the far North--a noble change from the
+flat unending monotony of the Russian steppes--begins in all its
+splendor. At one moment we are buried in a dark depth of forest, shadowy
+and spectral as those which haunt us in the weird outlines of Retzsch;
+the next minute we burst upon an open valley, bright with fresh grass,
+and with a still, shining lake slumbering in the centre, the whole
+picture framed in a background of sombre woods. Here rise giant boulders
+of granite, crested with spreading pines--own brothers, perhaps, of the
+block dragged hence eighty years ago from which the greatest of Russian
+rulers still looks down upon the city that bears his name;[F] there,
+bluffs of wooded hill rear themselves above the surrounding sea of
+foliage, and at times the roadside is dotted with the little wooden huts
+of the natives, whence wooden-faced women, turbaned with colored
+handkerchiefs, and white-headed children, in nothing but a short
+night-gown with a warm lining of dirt, stare wonderingly at us as we go
+striding past. And over all hangs the clear, pearly-gray northern sky.
+
+One hour is past, and still the air keeps moderately fresh, although the
+increasing glare warns us that it will be what I once heard a British
+tourist call "more hotterer" by and by. So far, however, we have not
+turned a hair, and the second hour's work matches the first to an inch.
+As we pass through the little hamlet which marks the first quarter of
+our allotted distance we instinctively pull out our watches: "Ten miles
+in two hours! Not so bad, but we must keep it up."
+
+So we set ourselves to the third hour, and out comes the sun--bright and
+beautiful and destroying as Homer's Achilles:
+
+    Bright are his rays, but evil fate they send,
+    And to sad man destroying heat portend.
+
+Hitherto, despite the severity of our pace, we have contrived to keep up
+a kind of flying conversation, but now grim silence settles on our way.
+There is a point in every match against time when the innate ferocity of
+man, called forth by the exercises which civilization has borrowed from
+the brute creation, comes to the front in earnest--when your best friend
+becomes your deadly enemy, and the fact of his being one stride in
+advance of you is an injury only to be atoned by blood. Such is the
+precise point that we have reached now; and when we turn from exchanging
+malignant looks with each other, it is only to watch with ominous
+eagerness for the coming in sight of the painted verst-posts, which
+somehow appear to succeed one another far more slowly than they did an
+hour ago.
+
+By the middle of the fourth hour we are marching with coats off and
+sleeves rolled up, like amateur butchers; and although our "pace" is as
+good as ever, the elastic swing of our first start is now replaced by
+that dogged, "hard-and-heavy" tramp which marks the point where the
+flesh and the spirit begin to pull in opposite directions. Were either
+of us alone, the pace would probably slacken at once, and each may
+safely say in his heart, as Condorcet said of the dying D'Alembert,
+"Had I not been there he _must_ have flinched!"
+
+But just as the fourth hour comes to an end (during which we have looked
+at our watches as often as Wellington during the terrible mid-day hours
+that preceded the distant boom of the Prussian cannon) we come round a
+sharp bend in the road, and there before us lies the quaint little
+log-built post-house (the "halfway house" in very truth), with its
+projecting roof and painted front and striped doorposts; just at which
+auspicious moment I stumble and twist my foot.
+
+"You were right to reserve _that_ performance to the last," remarks
+P---- with a grin, helping me to the door; and we order a _samovar_
+(tea-urn) to be heated, while we ourselves indulge in a scrambling wash
+of the rudest kind, but very refreshing nevertheless.
+
+Reader, did you ever walk five miles an hour for four hours together
+over a hilly country, with the thermometer at eighty-three degrees in
+the shade? If so, then will you appreciate our satisfaction as we throw
+aside our heavy boots, plunge our swollen feet into cold water, and,
+with coats off and collars thrown open, sit over our tea and black bread
+in that quaint little cross-beamed room, with an appetite never excited
+by the best _plats_ of the Erz-Herzog Karl or the Trois Freres
+Provencaux. Two things, at least, one may always be sure of finding in
+perfection at a Russian post-station: tea is the one; the other I need
+not particularize, as its presence does not usually become apparent till
+you "retire to rest" (?).
+
+Our meal being over and my foot still unfit for active service, we order
+a _telyayga_ (cart) and start anew for Imatra Foss. Our vehicle is
+simply a wooden tray on wheels, with a bag of hay in it, on which we do
+our best to recline, while our driver perches himself on the edge of the
+cart, thereby doubtless realizing vividly the sensation of rowing hard
+in a pair of thin unmentionables. Thanks to the perpetual gaps in the
+road formed by the great thaw two months ago (the Finnish winter ending
+about the beginning of May), during the greater part of the ride we
+play an animated though involuntary game of cup-and-ball, being thrown
+up and caught again incessantly. At length a dull roar, growing ever
+louder and louder, breaks the dreamy stillness of the forest, and before
+long we come to a little chalet-like inn embosomed in trees, where we
+alight, for this is the "Imatra Hotel."
+
+Let us cast one glance out of the back window before sitting down to
+supper (in a long, bare, chilly chamber like a third-class
+waiting-room), for such a view is not seen every day. We are on the very
+brink of a deep narrow gorge, the upper part of which is so thickly clad
+with pines as to resemble the crest of some gigantic helmet, but beneath
+the naked granite stands out in all its grim barrenness, lashed by the
+spray of the mighty torrent that roars between its projecting rocks.
+Just below us, the river, forced back by a huge boulder in the centre of
+its course, literally piles itself up into a kind of liquid mound,
+foaming, flashing and trembling incessantly, the ceaseless motion and
+tremendous din of the rapids having an indescribably bewildering effect.
+
+On quitting our inn the next morning a very picturesque walk of half an
+hour brings us to a little hut beside the Saima Ferry, where we find a
+party of "three fishers" from St. Petersburg, comprising a Russian
+colonel, an ex-chasseur d'Afrique (now an actor at one of the Russian
+theatres) and an Englishman. The three give us a cordial welcome, and
+insist upon our joining them; and for the next few days our surroundings
+are savagely picturesque enough to satisfy Jean-Jacques himself--living
+in a cabin of rough-hewn logs plastered with mud, sleeping on a bundle
+of straw, with our knapsacks for a pillow; tramping for miles every day
+through the sombre pine forest or fishing by moonlight in the shadowy
+lake, with the silence of a newly-created world all around; and having
+an "early pull" every morning across the ferry with our host, a squat,
+yellow-haired, gnome-like creature in sheepskin frock and bark shoes,
+who manifests unbounded amazement every time he sees us washing our
+hands.
+
+But the lake itself is, if possible, even more picturesque than the
+river. It is one of those long, straggling bodies of water so common in
+the far North, resembling not so much one great lake as an endless
+series of small ones. Just at the sortie of the river a succession of
+rapids, scarcely less magnificent than those of the "Foss" itself, rush
+between the wooded shores, their unresting whirl and fury contrasting
+gloriously with the vast expanse of glassy water above, crested with
+leafy islets and mirroring the green boughs that droop over it along the
+shore. Here did we spend many a night fishing and "spinning yarns," in
+both of which accomplishments the ex-chasseur was pre-eminent; and
+strange enough it seemed, lying in the depths of that northern forest,
+to listen to descriptions of the treeless sands of Egypt and the burning
+wastes of the Sahara. Our midnight camp, on a little promontory just
+above the rapids, was a study for Rembrandt--the slender pine-stems
+reddened by the blaze of our camp-fire; the group of bearded faces
+coming and going as the light waxed and waned; beyond the circle of
+light a gloom all the blacker for the contrast; the ghostly white of the
+foam shimmering through the leaves, and the clear moonlit sky
+overhanging all.
+
+When a wet day came upon us the inexhaustible ex-chasseur (who, like
+Frederick the Great, could "do everything but keep still") amused
+himself and us with various experiments in cookery, of which art he was
+a perfect master. His versatility in sauces might have aroused the envy
+of Soyer himself, and the party having brought with them a large stock
+of provisions, he was never at a loss for materials. Our ordinary dinner
+consisted of trout sauced with red wine, mutton, veal, duck, cheese,
+fresh strawberries and coffee; after which every man took his tumbler of
+tea, with a slice of lemon in it, from the stove, and the evening began.
+
+_The_ sight of the country, however, is undoubtedly the natives
+themselves. Their tawny skins, rough yellow hair and coarse flat faces
+would look uninviting enough to those who have never seen a Kalmuck or a
+Samoyede, but, despite their diet of dried fish and bread mixed with
+sawdust, both men and women are remarkably healthy and capable of
+surprising feats of strength and endurance. They make great use of bark
+for caps, shoes, plates, etc., in the making of which they are very
+skillful. As to their dress, it baffles description, and the horror of
+my friend the ex-chasseur at his first glimpse of it was as good as a
+play. On one occasion he was criticising severely the "rig" of some
+passing natives: "Voila un qui porte un pantalon et point de bottes--un
+autre qui a des bottes et point de pantalon; peut-etre que le troisieme
+n'aura ni l'un ni l'autre!" At last came one with a pair of boots almost
+big enough to go to sea in, and turned up like an Indian canoe. Our
+critic eyed them in silence for a moment, and then said with a shudder,
+"Ce sont des bottes impossibles!"
+
+But there needs only a short journey here to show the folly of further
+annexations on the part of Russia while those already made are so
+lamentably undeveloped. Finland, which, rightly handled, might be one of
+the czar's richest possessions, is now, after nearly seventy years'
+occupation, as unprofitable as ever. Throughout the whole province there
+are only three hundred and ninety-eight miles of railway.[G] Post-roads,
+scarce enough in the South, are absolutely wanting in the North. Steam
+navigation on the Gulf of Bothnia extends only to Uleaborg, and is, so
+far as I can learn, actually non-existent on the great lakes, except
+between Tanasthuus and Tammerfors. Such is the state of a land
+containing boundless water-power, countless acres of fine timber,
+countless shiploads of splendid granite. But what can be expected of an
+untaught population under two millions left to themselves in an
+unreclaimed country nearly as large as France?
+
+Helsingfors can now be reached from St. Petersburg, _via_ Viborg, in
+fourteen and a half hours; but what is one such line to the boundless
+emptiness of Finland? The fearful lesson of 1869 will not be easily
+forgotten, when all the horrors of famine were let loose at once upon
+the unhappy province. Seed-corn was exhausted: bread became dear, dearer
+still, and then failed altogether. Men, women and children, struggling
+over snowy moors and frozen lakes toward the distant towns in which lay
+their only chance of life, dropped one by one on the long march of
+death, and were devoured ere they were cold by the pursuing wolves. Nor
+did the survivors fare much better: some reached the haven of refuge
+only to fall dead in its very streets. Others gorged themselves with
+unwholesome food, and died with it in their mouths. Fields lying waste;
+villages dispeopled; private houses turned into hospitals; fever-parched
+skeletons tottering from the doors of overcrowded asylums; children
+wandering about in gaunt and squalid nakedness; crowds of men, frenzied
+by prolonged misery and ripe for any outrage, roaming the streets night
+and day,--such were the scenes enacted throughout the length of Finland
+during two months and a half.
+
+But better days are now dawning on the afflicted land. Roads and
+railways are being pushed forward into the interior, and the ill-judged
+attempts formerly made to Russianize the population have given place to
+a more conciliatory policy. A Russian from Helsingfors tells me that
+lectures are being delivered there, and extracts from native works read,
+in the aboriginal tongue; that it is being treated with special
+attention in the great schools of Southern Finland; that there has even
+been some talk of dramatic representations in Finnish at the Helsingfors
+theatre. Such a policy is at once prudent and generous, and far better
+calculated to bind together the heterogeneous races of the empire than
+that absurd "Panslavism" which is best translated as "making every one a
+slave."
+
+                                                  DAVID KER.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[D] Finland still retains its own currency of "marks" and "pennia."
+
+[E] A fact.
+
+[F] The statue of Peter the Great stands at the corner of the
+Senate-House Square, overlooking the Neva, on a block of Finnish granite
+twenty feet high.
+
+[G] Since this was written two new lines have been opened.
+
+
+
+
+OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.
+
+
+THE DEAD OF PARIS.
+
+It is an expensive operation to die in Paris, particularly for a
+foreigner. If an unhappy American chances to pay the debt of Nature in a
+furnished apartment or a hotel, the proprietor makes the heirs of the
+deceased pay roundly for the privilege which their relation has enjoyed.
+No matter by what manner of death the departed may have made his or her
+exit, be it chronic or epidemic--anything so impossible to communicate
+as heart disease or apoplexy, for instance--every article in the room
+must be paid for at its full value, or rather quadruple that amount. As
+much as one thousand dollars has sometimes been charged for the
+plenishing of a room, everything in which, if put up at auction, would
+not have realized a tenth part of that amount. Through the efforts of
+our representatives, however, this tax has been fixed at a somewhat less
+exorbitant amount.
+
+Parisian funerals are conducted by a company--which, like most of such
+enterprises in France, is a gigantic monopoly--under the direct
+supervision of the government. The tariff of its charges includes nine
+grades of funerals, at prices ranging from fifteen hundred dollars down
+to four dollars. For the first amount the mourners enjoy all the
+splendors possible to the occasion--a hearse draped with velvet and
+drawn by four horses, each decked with ostrich-plumes and led by a groom
+clothed in a mourning livery; velvet draperies sprinkled with silver
+tears for the porte-cochere wherein the coffin lies in state; and grand
+funeral lamps lit with spirits to flame around the bier at the church.
+For the last tariff a pine coffin painted black, a stretcher and two men
+to bear the body to the _fosse commune_, are accorded. But between these
+two extremes lies every variety of funeral that one can imagine, a very
+respectable affair with two mourning carriages being offered for about
+sixty dollars. Very few Americans are ever interred in a Paris cemetery,
+the prejudices of our nation exacting that the remains of the dead
+should be transferred to their native land. To the foreigner this
+process appears to be inexplicable, for, as a French gentleman once
+remarked to me with a shrug of his shoulders, "Only the Americans and
+English are fond of making corpses travel" (_de faire voyager leurs
+morts_). They generally prefer to call in the services of the embalmer,
+who for a charge of six hundred dollars will do his work wisely if not
+too well. Still, there are some graves of our fellow-citizens still
+visible even at Pere la Chaise. And at that historic cemetery for years
+there existed a beautiful spot, a sort of hollow on the hillside, where
+flowers, trees and grass all flourished luxuriantly, thanks to years of
+neglect. It was a wild and lovely oasis of Nature in the midst of the
+stiff, artificial formality of the rest of the cemetery, and became one
+of the sights of the place. Unfortunately, French formality revolted
+against the untamed charm of this neglected spot: the proprietor, an
+American gentleman, was sought out, the lot was repurchased by the city,
+the trees were uprooted, the hollow filled in, and the beautiful ravine
+exists no longer.
+
+The Compagnie des Pompes Funebres is obliged to inter the poor
+gratuitously; nor is this service light, as the number of free funerals
+is considerably greater than that of paying ones. The city pays one
+dollar to the company for each pauper funeral. The mass of material
+possessed by the company is very great, comprising six hundred vehicles
+of all kinds, three hundred horses, six thousand biers or stretchers,
+and a vast number of draperies, cushions, torches, etc. Over five
+hundred and seventy-five men are employed by this organization. Thanks
+to these ample arrangements, the terrible spectacle afforded during the
+cholera outbreaks of 1832 and 1849, when the dead were conveyed to the
+cemeteries piled in upholsterers' wagons, is not likely to be renewed,
+as during the exceptional mortality from the same cause in 1854 and 1865
+the arrangements were found to suffice for all demands.
+
+In olden times Paris was full of cemeteries: they were attached to every
+hospital and every church. The wealthy were interred in the churches
+themselves: in the church of Les Innocents, which was specially affected
+by the nobility, the aisles were often crowded with coffins awaiting
+their turn to be placed in the overcrowded vaults. Nobody troubled
+himself about the sanitary side of the question in those days, as
+witness the cemetery of Saint Roch, which in 1763 was established beside
+one of the city wells. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
+cemeteries were popular places of resort. Les Innocents was especially
+popular: it was surrounded by arcades, where booths and stores were
+established, and people came there to promenade and to amuse themselves.
+Nor were private cemeteries unknown, many prominent Jewish and
+Protestant families being privileged to inter their dead (to whom the
+Church denied burial in consecrated ground) in the gardens attached to
+their houses. Thus, when the work of reconstructing Paris under the
+Second Empire was begun, the enormous quantity of graves that were
+discovered filled the workers with amaze. The bones thus found were at
+first transferred to the Western Cemetery, which had been closed for
+over twenty years, but the accumulation speedily became unmanageable,
+and when a mass of over three thousand square feet of bones had been
+deposited there, a decree of the authorities caused the whole and all
+similar discoveries to be deposited in the catacombs.
+
+The Revolution did away with the greater part of the intramural
+cemeteries by suppressing those attached to the churches and declaring
+the ground to be national property: they were consequently parceled out
+into lots and sold. But the guillotine created a need for new
+burial-grounds, two of which were accordingly established. One, situated
+near the Place du Trone, still exists: it occupies the former site of
+the gardens of the Dames Chauvinesses de Picpus. After the Revolution it
+was purchased by an association of the surviving members of families who
+had relatives interred there. This cemetery ought to be a pilgrim shrine
+for every American visiting Paris, for it was chosen as a last
+resting-place for the remains of La Fayette. The other "garden of the
+guillotine," as these cemeteries were once significantly called, has
+long since disappeared, but the Chapelle Expiatoire erected to the
+memory of Marie Antoinette and of Louis XVI. on the Boulevard Haussmann
+now marks its former site. It was there that the bodies of these royal
+victims of revolutionary fury were hastily interred in a bed of
+quicklime, with a thick layer of quicklime cast over each of them. When,
+after the Restoration, the task of exhuming the royal remains was
+undertaken, crumbling bones alone remained to point out the
+resting-place of the once beautiful daughter of the Caesars and of the
+descendant of Saint Louis. The smaller bones of the skeleton of Louis
+XVI., in particular, had almost wholly disappeared: that of the queen
+was in better preservation, owing to a smaller quantity of quicklime
+having been used. Strange to say, her garters, which were of elastic
+webbing, were found in a state of almost perfect preservation, while of
+the rest of her garments only a few rotting fragments remained. These
+garters, together with some pieces of the coffins, were presented as
+precious relics to Louis XVIII. But grave doubts have frequently been
+expressed, in view of the very slight means of identification afforded
+by the state of the remains, as to whether these crumbling relics of
+mortality were really those of the king and queen. With the exception of
+the plot on which stands the Chapelle Expiatoire, every vestige of the
+revolutionary cemetery has long since disappeared. The splendid
+Boulevard Haussmann now passes directly over its site, and the gayety
+and animation of one of the most brilliant quarters of modern Paris
+surround what was once the last resting-place of those who perished by
+the guillotine on the Place de la Revolution.
+
+The present system of Parisian cemeteries was only adopted at the
+beginning of this century. Paris now possesses twenty, the most
+important of which are Pere la Chaise and Montparnasse. The ground of
+all of these belongs to the city. You can purchase a lot to be held for
+ever, or you can buy a temporary concession, the price varying with the
+length of time for which the ground is to be held. Five years is the
+shortest period for which a lot can be accorded, as experts declare that
+the body is not wholly absorbed into the surrounding earth before that
+time.
+
+What shall Paris do with her dead? is now becoming a very serious
+question. It is against the law to bury bodies within her limits, yet
+fourteen out of her twenty cemeteries are within her bounds, and the
+vast city, spreading out on either side, soon catches up with those
+established on her exterior territories.
+
+It has been proposed to construct a new and immense cemetery at a
+distance of some twenty or thirty miles from the city, to which the
+funeral corteges could be transferred by rail. But the strong sentiment
+of the French for the dead has as yet prevented the realization of this
+very sensible and really necessary project. As a rule, the French are
+very fond of visiting the graves of their departed relatives, and on the
+great anniversary for such visits, "Le Jour des Morts," it is calculated
+that over half a million persons are present in the different cemeteries
+during the day. On such occasions not only are wreaths of natural
+flowers, of beads and of immortelles deposited on the tombs, but often
+the visiting-cards of the persons who have come to pay due respect to
+the dead. The tomb of Rachel, for instance, has been specially honored
+in that way, some of the visitors even turning up the corner of the card
+to show that they had called in person. The question suggests itself,
+_What if the visit should be returned?_ Edgar A. Poe might have found in
+this idea material for one of his weird and wondrous tales. We all know
+what happened when Don Juan in merry fashion begged that the statue of
+his former victim would come to take supper with him.
+
+The French authorities have indeed purchased a vast tract of ground at
+Mery-sur-Oise, distant from Paris about one hour by rail, with intent to
+found there a vast central necropolis, but the prejudices or
+indifference of the Parisian populace have as yet prevented the
+realization of this project. Something must be done, however, and that
+speedily. Were cremation an established fact, that would settle the
+whole matter, but the French, who always seem to get an attack of piety
+in the wrong place, are horrified at such an idea. It is probable,
+therefore, that a law will be adopted, such as is now in force in
+Switzerland, making all concessions of burial-lots merely temporary.
+Such a law is already talked of, and the duration of the longest
+concession is fixed at ten years. A regulation of this kind would of
+course do away with much of the elegance of decoration that now
+distinguishes the Parisian cemeteries, as few families would care to
+erect costly monuments over a grave that must be vacated at the end of
+ten years.
+
+                                          L. H. H.
+
+
+THE RELIGIOUS STRUGGLE AT GENEVA.
+
+Even for a chance resident in Geneva, for a disinterested stranger to
+the strife, the Ultramontane and Old Catholic question is no more to be
+avoided than the _bise_ which blows in the month of November upon the
+just and the unjust. You take the longest way round through the
+sheltered streets, if you like, but the terrific north wind is certain
+to catch you at the first square you cross. And you may say you have no
+particular interest in the war of churches, and no adequate means of
+forming a judgment: you still hear a good deal that is said, and read
+much that is written, on the burning topic. If a supporter of the ruling
+party describes what occurred some months since at Bellerive on the
+lake shore, when a company of gendarmes marched into the village, took
+possession of the church, set the Swiss cross floating from the steeple
+and established the new _cure_ by force of arms, in place of the
+Ultramontane incumbent, who had long defied the cantonal authorities and
+remained at his post in spite of reiterated orders to depart, the
+impression you receive is that of the might and majesty of the law
+triumphant. What else can be done, they ask, when the government of the
+land is flouted in open scorn? What, indeed? And the counter-display of
+banners by the vanquished party on that eventful day illustrated, it
+would appear, the well-known step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
+Every black rag on which they could lay hands dangled from the windows
+of the faithful in sign of distress: not even a petticoat rather the
+worse for wear but did duty on the occasion. And yet one thoroughly
+convinced of the puerility of such demonstrations may also think that
+the Swiss flag itself has been unfurled in causes more glorious.
+
+"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church," say the
+persecuted. "Where the government has put in an apostate priest, he
+celebrates mass to empty benches: we set up our altar in a barn, and it
+is full to overflowing." So far as this city is concerned, the statement
+is correct. The place of worship to which the Ultramontanes retired when
+driven from the cathedral of Notre Dame may, if they choose, be called a
+barn--a large one--and it is furnished with a goodly congregation,
+whereas the forty or fifty persons who assemble in their former church
+look no more than "a handful of corn upon the mountains." It must be
+admitted also that in sowing after the manner of the martyrs the
+Ultramontanes are ready and willing, and should the official rigors be
+insufficient they will perhaps do a little private bloodletting for the
+sake of contributing handsomely to the support of their cause. The
+Sisters of Charity, expelled from Geneva last year as exercising a
+pernicious influence, are said to have opened all their veins before
+they went. Excepting that blood, however, it is not apparent that they
+lost a great deal: they merely crossed the boundary into France, can
+revisit the scene of their martyrdom whenever they please, and moreover,
+in their present quality of strangers, the government has lost the right
+of interference with their apparel, so that the stiff white bonnets may
+now walk with impunity under the very nose of a _conseiller d'etat_. The
+inhabitants of the canton are severely restricted as to costume under
+the present regime. No native priest is permitted a distinctive dress,
+and where a couple of large hats and long skirts are seen strolling
+through the streets, you know they are from over the border. Jesuitism
+is not to parade in full uniform, nor is it to lurk privily under never
+so humble a roof. In their struggles with the hydra-headed monster the
+men in the high places of this canton found themselves lately face to
+face with an odd set of opponents. An association of servant-girls,
+animated by the spirit of party, had stepped into the vacant quarters of
+the Sisters--a locality already confiscated by the government. The
+object of the society is praiseworthy: it provides a home for servants
+out of place, and nurses and maintains such as are sick or destitute.
+Still, the powers that be thought such Christian charity might be
+exercised as well elsewhere, and sent a notice to quit, of which the
+domestics, with a traditional contempt for lawful authority, made no
+account whatever. They were threatened with the police, but still stood
+firm, and not until an armed force actually descended upon them did they
+retire in good order, bearing one of their company on a mattress. Those
+interested in their behalf call attention to the fact that the sick
+person had to be transported through the streets on the coldest day of
+the season, while the party of the gendarmerie cause it to be understood
+that said person only took to her bed when the judicial knock sounded at
+the door.
+
+Scandalous wrangling, petty bickering, the zealous wrath of true
+conviction on either side,--there is room for them all in a contest like
+this, where every one must wear the badge of party in plain sight, and
+defend it as best he may, but defend it at all costs. To stand between
+two such hostile forces is to be regarded as an enemy by both, and is a
+situation that may seem equivocal even to lookers-on. Yet those who
+listen habitually to the one man who has chosen that unenviable post can
+hardly complain of want of clearness in his own defining of his
+position. Pere Hyacinthe is sometimes held to be on the high road to
+Protestantism. Any one who went out in the middle of some discourse of
+his, and so heard only the warm-hearted, candid confession of sympathy
+with all that is excellent among heretics, might carry away such an
+impression: those who remain until the inevitable "_mais_" with which
+the second proposition begins are convinced that to grasp the hand he
+holds out for Church unity the Protestants would have many more steps to
+take than he contemplates on his side, and that the meeting could by no
+means be a halfway one. Another numerously-supported opinion is that of
+his waiting only for a good opportunity to return to the true fold.
+Certain it is that at all times and in all places he calls himself a
+faithful son of that Church of which, as he ceases not to reiterate, he
+has never sought the ruin, but the reform. Who, however, hearing the
+scathing apostrophe that follows to the address of the misguided old man
+who holds the keys of St. Peter can feel that this son of Rome, devoted
+though he be, is very ready to sue for pardon? On the contrary, let the
+shepherd repent, then the wandering sheep may come back to the flock. A
+weightier charge against him than any other is that of betraying party,
+of faithlessly turning his back on the cause he once espoused. But that
+cause is still his, as he declares: no one has more at heart the success
+of the Old Catholic movement than he, no one a warmer desire to see the
+purified Church in the place that is hers of right; but also no one has
+a deeper abhorrence of that Church lending herself as a servant to
+political intrigues, be the government that sets them on foot called
+despotic or republican. And then the Grand Conseil comes in for no
+little scorn and contempt. Pere Hyacinthe may be a Jesuit in disguise,
+or a Calvinist at heart, or a broken reed that pierces the hand of him
+who leans on it; but there is still another hypothesis: he may be a man
+endowed with the rare gift of seeing all sides of a question with equal
+impartiality, and one not to be deterred by any party considerations
+from speaking his free opinion: in that case it is certain that he would
+find no place in either of the factions at variance in this
+commonwealth.
+
+How large the number of those who followed Pere Hyacinthe when he took
+up his present isolated position it would be difficult to estimate, for
+the services at the Casino are attended by others besides his own flock;
+Sunday after Sunday the barren concert-hall is filled, but many faces
+wear an expectant look that distinguishes them as passing strangers from
+the frequenters of the place; and when the mass begins there is evident
+doubt in the minds of some how far loyalty to their own simpler forms
+permits them to unite in this worship. They solve the question by
+standing up whenever a change of position seems to be called for; and in
+fact to kneel in the narrow, crowded seats is almost impossible, so that
+the front row, with more space at its disposal, may be properly expected
+to act as proxy for all the rest. There comes a moment, however, that
+unites Catholic and Protestant under one spell: it is when the first
+word falls from the lips of the great speaker. Whatever the subject,
+whether Catholic reform or the state of the soul after death, a
+breathless stillness bears witness to enchained attention. Such a theme
+as the latter must lead far from the daily ways of thought that many
+tread who listen: when the silver tongue ceases, one may murmur to
+another, "Mystical!" and yet a very untranscendental mind, borne upward
+for the moment by that wondrous eloquence, might well catch some vision
+of a mysterious bond between the Church militant and the Church
+triumphant--might all but feel a tie linking that strangely-mingled
+assemblage with the Blessed Company of All Saints.
+
+                                          G. H. P.
+
+
+THE COMING ELECTIONS IN FRANCE.
+
+The crisis brought about in France by Marshal MacMahon's _coup de
+palais_ of May 16, 1877, has thrown the country just four years back.
+Circumstances widely different in character from those which caused the
+overthrow of M. Thiers on May 24, 1873, have once more placed the
+government in the hands of men of whom the Republic might well have
+thought itself for ever rid. At that time the blow was struck by a
+parliamentary majority. This time it is the representative of the
+executive power who has thought fit to interfere, seeking to substitute
+an authoritative for a parliamentary government. When MacMahon assumed
+power he declared that his post was that of "a sentinel who has to watch
+over the integrity of your sovereign powers;" but it would appear as
+though the recollection of his own earlier career, his clerical
+associations and other secret influences at work, had made him ambitious
+to occupy a higher position. From the post of sentinel he leaps to that
+of generalissimo; and there can be little doubt as to the cause which
+the transition is intended to serve.
+
+There is no longer anything to fear from the Legitimists: the
+death-knell of that party was rung by the Count de Chambord's famous
+letter of October 30, 1873, declaring his continued adherence to Bourbon
+principles. Nor is aught to be apprehended from the Orleanists.
+They--the Centre-Right in the two houses--long hesitated whether to cast
+in their lot with the Republic, which would annihilate them by
+absorption with the Centre-Left, or to join the ranks of the so-called
+Conservatives, who are undoubtedly destined to swamp them in the stream
+of imperialism. After much swaying to and fro they have, it would seem,
+at length determined to follow their usual party tactics and go over
+bodily to the side which appears to them to present the least immediate
+danger--viz., the Imperialist. There is no disguising the matter. The
+battle this time will be between the Republicans and the Bonapartists.
+M. Gambetta, in the course of his eloquent speech of May 4, 1877,
+cried, "Le clericalisme, voila l'ennemi." Powerful, however, as is the
+clerical party to embarrass, it is not strong enough at the urns to
+over-turn the Republic. Imperialism alone can hope to do that when,
+arrayed in fight against the present form of government, it seeks to win
+over to its side the country population, those six million electors for
+the most part owners of the soil they till, and on whose decision hinges
+to a large extent the future of France. These _paysans_ will vote for
+one of two things--the Republic or the Empire, the marshal-president
+before the 16th of May, or the marshal-president who "belongs to the
+Right."
+
+In France this is, in some degree at least, understood, and even now
+each party is mustering all its forces so as to be prepared for the
+October elections. The Republicans are already well organized, with
+their committees and sub-committees awaiting the instructions of their
+leader. They will proceed to the polls encouraged by their success at
+the last elections, taking credit for the tranquil state of France up to
+the 16th of May, 1877, setting forth their moderation when in power, the
+guarantees they have given for the maintenance of order, and the almost
+unanimous approbation their conduct of affairs has met with at the hands
+of the foreign press.
+
+The Bonapartists will put on their panoply of battle, strong in the
+support of the marshal, his prefects, his mayors and the cohorts of
+inferior appointees, such as the gendarmes, the rural constabulary, and
+all that powerful mechanism at the disposal of a government which sets
+up official candidates with the avowed intention of carrying the
+elections by the almost irresistible force of French centralization. All
+who have seen in motion that formidable political machine called a
+French prefecture know what this implies. It will be recollected that
+nearly all the prefects have been changed since the 16th of May. The
+prefect is appointed by the Minister of the Interior, and receives from
+him every day by telegraph the word of command, while the post brings
+him official circulars. These orders he in turn communicates to his
+subordinates, the mayors. The mayors are, it is true, not all appointed
+by the prefects, those in the rural districts being elected by the town
+councils. Nevertheless, they are all more or less under the thumb of the
+prefects. They need the prefect's signature almost every day to stamp
+some official act; they require government grants for the maintenance of
+schools, roads and other purposes in their communes; they dare not
+offend the prefects, under penalty of having men appointed as rural
+constables, mayors' secretaries and letter-carriers who shall be so many
+enemies of the mayors and shall thwart them at every step. The prefect
+thus exercises enormous influence in every commune, both over the mayor
+and the lower class of appointees. He likewise holds in subjection in
+the various districts the justices of the peace, whose appointments can
+be revoked at will should they vote against orders or fail to use their
+influence on behalf of the official candidate. The prefect also reigns
+supreme over the brigades of foot and mounted gendarmerie scattered
+throughout his department. Of course, the gendarmes do not follow a man
+to the poll to see that he votes to order, but both the gendarmes and
+the rural constables understand that they are to act as gently toward
+the liquor-sellers who vote as they are bidden as they are to proceed
+rigorously against those who contend for the right of private judgment.
+If the latter get into trouble, they must be made an example of, whereas
+should the supporters of the official candidates have broken the law,
+matters may easily be arranged. Besides these instruments, the prefect
+has his newspaper, containing articles carefully prepared beforehand at
+Paris, which he has distributed gratuitously among the electors during
+the whole of the campaign. This newspaper enjoys the patronage of the
+judicial and official advertisements, for the insertion of which,
+American readers need scarcely be told, it receives very handsome pay.
+Even the post-office is made to join in the conspiracy against the
+opposition candidate, and it is no rare occurrence for the newspapers
+and the voting tickets issued by the anti-official party to be held back
+at the post-office until the day after the election.
+
+All these means, and others besides, are used to intimidate the country
+population. The strength of the administration is paraded before them. A
+great show of energy--or, to use the expressive French word, _de
+poigne_--is made. This is done in order that the French peasant,
+instinctively attracted by a display of power and repelled by an
+exhibition of weakness, may cast his vote for the man who appears to be
+the stronger candidate, and who enjoys the friendship of Monsieur le
+Prefet.
+
+In February, 1876, M. Buffet, then Minister of the Interior, only
+employed the means above described sparingly and stealthily. The favor
+with which he viewed the aspirations of the clerical party caused him to
+allow the Bonapartist machine to get somewhat rusty. In October, 1877,
+M. de Fourtou, the Bonapartist Minister of the Interior, selected by the
+marshal and his advisers as the fittest for the post, will, we may rest
+assured, make ample use of the levers of administrative centralization.
+His past career furnishes evidence that he will not hesitate an instant
+to declare as the official nominee, and energetically to support, any
+anti-Republican candidate having the least chance of success. Under such
+circumstances in almost every electoral district in the north, centre
+and west of France there will be a Bonapartist candidate. The situation
+insensibly recalls Dryden's well-known lines:
+
+    To further this, Achitophel unites
+    The malcontents of all the Israelites,
+    Whose differing parties he could wisely join
+    For several ends to serve the same design.
+
+Even in 1876, when they were left to their own resources, the
+Imperialists were able to carry the election of about a hundred of their
+adherents. Now, with one of their own party as the leading wire-puller,
+and with the aid of the not over-scrupulous _prefets a poigne_--who have
+scarcely forgotten the instruction they received during Napoleon's
+reign--the Imperialists will not despair of getting another one hundred
+and fifty, perhaps even two hundred, members into the Chamber.
+
+                                          C. H. H.
+
+
+VON MOLTKE IN TURKEY.
+
+Artemus Ward, giving his reasons for approving of G. Washington, adduced
+the pleasing fact that "George never slopped over." Had that king of
+jokers ever uttered a "sparkling remark" about H. von Moltke (as we may
+be sure he would have done if he had lived until now), it would most
+probably have conveyed a very similar idea in equally scintillating
+language. It is currently reported of the last-named gentleman that he
+"keeps silence in seven languages." Like the great William of Orange, he
+is popularly nicknamed in his own country "the silent man" (_der
+Schweiger_). Perhaps this habitual reticence is one reason why his
+utterances are received--when he speaks at all--by his countrymen
+generally with such deep respect and interest; for even the all-powerful
+Bismarck cannot command, among Germans, a stricter attention to his
+speeches. And with regard to military subjects at least, it is natural
+that the rest of the world should not be altogether indifferent to what
+the famous strategist may have to say.
+
+But this ability to refrain from utterance did not, at an earlier period
+of his life, prevent his doing what is traditionally asserted to gratify
+a man's enemies; and patriotic Frenchmen ought to be glad to know that
+he once wrote a book. Indeed, he has written more than one, but there is
+one of his productions which is now attracting a great deal of
+attention. This work is entitled "_Letters on the State of, and Events
+in, Turkey, from 1835 to 1839_. By Helmuth von Moltke, Captain on the
+General Staff, afterward General and Field-marshal." At least this is
+the title under which the book has lately been republished at Berlin.
+The original designation was a little less overpowering, but quite huge
+enough, apparently, to smother the young literary effort; for it died
+quickly, and though some forty years have passed since the first edition
+appeared (with a warm recommendation from the eminent geographer Karl
+Ritter), yet the one just issued is only the second. It is now preceded
+by a short introduction written for the publishers at their urgent
+request; and no more widely-popular book has appeared in Germany for
+many years. The people take a vast amount of pleasure in reading the
+descriptions of their staid, soldierly old field-marshal attired in
+Oriental garb and figuring among scenes which might have been taken from
+the _Arabian Nights_.
+
+But, aside from any personal considerations, the book is really a very
+interesting and valuable one, and unquestionably deserved a better fate
+than that which overtook it at first. And now that everything connected
+with Turkey possesses a special interest for the world at large, it will
+well repay a careful perusal.
+
+"Captain" von Moltke went to Turkey in the thirty-fifth year of his age,
+and at a time when the public interest in that country was hardly less
+active than it has been lately. The war of 1828 and 1829, and Sultan
+Mahmud II.'s energetic action in fighting his foes and undertaking vast
+internal reforms, had caused the attention of the world to be
+concentrated upon his affairs. The young German staff-officer intended
+spending only a few weeks in the Ottoman empire. But the sultan was
+anxious to avail himself of the services of just such men, and the offer
+of an appointment as _musteschar_ ("imperial councilor") was too
+tempting for Von Moltke to refuse. Installed in his office, he soon made
+his value apparent to both the sultan and Chosrew Pasha, the seraskier,
+who was in high favor at court, and in a short time a vast number and
+variety of duties were assigned to him. Was a difficult bridge-building
+project to be carried out, he was the man to make it a success; did the
+sultan's palace need to have another tower perched upon it, he must
+direct the work: in fact, it seemed to be the prevailing impression that
+the advice and assistance of "Moltke Pasha" were good things to have in
+any situation.
+
+His good standing in high government circles made him much sought after
+by Turkish subordinate officials, who hoped to make use of his interest
+to their own advantage. According to the common custom in that part of
+the world, they sent him presents in great numbers. Horses enough were
+given to him to mount a whole company of cavalry, and not unfrequently
+also these propitiatory offerings took the form of hard cash. He asserts
+that any hesitation about accepting these donations would merely have
+convinced the givers that he thought them too small; and he was
+therefore obliged to resort to the expedient of dividing them among his
+servants and employes. These proceedings won for him the honorable
+distinction of being considered _delih_, which may be translated by the
+popular expression "cracked." Among other delicate attentions offered to
+him as a stranger was the infliction of the bastinado upon certain
+criminals in his presence and with a view to his gratification. Certain
+Greeks, who were thus made to take a very important part in getting the
+entertainment to the foreigner _on foot_, were considerately allowed a
+very liberal reduction in the number of blows they were to receive,
+which was only twenty-five hundred!
+
+But, in addition to such diversions, Von Moltke's experiences in Turkey
+included many opportunities to become thoroughly acquainted with the
+face of the country and the characteristics of the various races
+inhabiting it. He accompanied the sultan during an extensive tour made
+by the latter among the Christian provinces, and gives an interesting
+account of the journey. At another time he was sent to Syria, where the
+royal forces were operating against Ibrahim Pasha, and here it was that
+the future great general went through his first campaign. That it ended
+in a most disastrous defeat for the side upon which he was enlisted does
+not seem to have been due to any want of energy on his part. Soon after
+this he gave up his post under the Turkish government and returned to
+his native land.
+
+                                          W. W. C.
+
+
+PUNCHING THE DRINKS.
+
+The latest move upon John Barleycorn's works is engineered by the
+legislative wisdom of the Old Dominion. It consists in a bell-punch on
+the model, embalmed already in poetry, of the implement which forms the
+most conspicuous feature of the street-car conductor's outfit. The
+disappearance of each drink is to be announced to all within hearing by
+a sprightly peal on a kind of joy-bell Edgar A. Poe lived too soon to
+include in his tintinnabulatory verses. The chimes vary in intensity and
+glee according to the magnitude of the event they at once celebrate and
+record. Lager elicits but a modest jingle, whisky unadorned is honored
+with a louder greeting, and the arrival of an artistic cobbler at the
+seat of thirst is the signal for a triple bob-major of the most
+brilliant vivacity. On a court day, an election day or a circus day the
+air will vibrate to the incessant and inspiriting clangor; and as in one
+part or another of the Commonwealth one at least of those festivals so
+dear to freemen is in blast always, the din will be ended only by
+midnight, resounding over her whole surface from daylight to the
+witching hour.
+
+J.B.'s assailants, and their modes of attack, are innumerable. Every
+foot of his enceinte is scarred with the dint of siege, and from every
+battlement "the flight of baffled foes" he has "watched along the
+plain." Sap and storm have alike failed to bring down his rosy colors.
+Father Mathew, Gough, the Sons of Temperance, the Straight-Outs,--where
+are they? He stands intact and defiant. Should he surrender, it will be
+a wondrous triumph, and all the more so for the simplicity of the means.
+The marvel will be, as with Columbus and the egg, why everybody did not
+think of it long ago.
+
+The way once opened, all will flock in. Divines, statesmen, moralists
+and financiers will all strike for the new placer. The moral reformers
+will brandish aloft the tinkling weapon, enthusiastic in their
+determination to use it to the utmost and bring down tippling to a
+minimum. Lawmakers and tax-gatherers will rejoice over a new and fertile
+source of revenue, and pile upon it impost on impost, secure of the
+approval of the most grumbling of tax-payers. To the new fiscal and
+moral California all will flock.
+
+The extent of the revolution is as little to be estimated in advance as
+was that caused by Columbus's voyage. Strong drink pervades all
+civilized lands. It is a universal element, the elimination of which
+must produce changes impossible to be calculated or foreseen. Should the
+grand moral results anticipated follow, the difference between civilized
+man and his sober savage fellow will be widened. Progress will no longer
+be handicapped, and will press forward with accelerated speed. Its path
+will cease to be strewn with broken fortunes, happiness and bottles.
+Policemen and criminal courts will lose, according to standard
+statistics, four-fifths of their occupation. In that proportion the
+cause of virtue will gain. Mankind will be four hundred per cent. more
+honest and peaceable than before the passage of the whisky-punch bill.
+With the public treasury full, and the detective, the juryman and the
+shyster existent only in a fossil state, the millennium will have been,
+as the phrase runs, discounted.
+
+But we run foul of the inevitable and inexorable _If_. Is the machine
+invented that is to do such work? Is it within the reach of any
+combination of springs, ratchets and clappers? Is the leviathan of
+strong drink to be hooked after that fashion--a bit put in his mouth and
+the monster made to draw the car of state? We shall see. The end would
+justify much more ponderous and hazardous means, and the chance is worth
+taking. Independent of the general blessing to mankind involved in the
+punch idea, Virginia proposes in it a special benefit to herself; and
+that of course is her chief motive. States so very much in debt as she
+is are not prone to quixotic philanthropy. Should this novel form of
+taxation assist in paying the interest on her bonds, she will patiently
+wait for the secondary, if broader, good accruing to the world at large.
+Men, she argues, who are able to indulge in stimulants are able to pay
+their debts, and at least their share of the public debt. Each click of
+the bell proclaims her adoption of this theory, and at the same time her
+anxiety to find some means of satisfying her creditors. If she can
+cancel at once her bonds and Barleycorn, so much the better.
+
+                                          E. B.
+
+
+THE NAUTCH-DANCERS OF INDIA.
+
+The Prince of Wales was severely censured by some of the English
+journals for dignifying by his presence the nautch-dancing of India.
+These performances are peculiar to the country and its religion, and
+constitute so important a part of the marvels of the East that few male
+travelers at least fail to witness them. Probably the prince saw no good
+reason why he should forego any of the benefits of sightseeing
+vouchsafed to the ordinary traveler. Dancing has always been an
+important feature of the ceremonial worship of most Oriental peoples.
+Every temple of note in India has attached to it a troop of
+nautch-dancers. According to Mr. Sellen, the author of _Annotations of
+the Sacred Writing's of the Hindus_ (London, 1865), these young girls
+are "early initiated into all the mysteries of their profession. They
+are instructed in dancing and vocal and instrumental music, their chief
+employment being to chant the sacred hymns and perform nautches before
+their god on the recurrence of high festivals." One of the English
+papers declared that "witnessing the physical contortions of half-nude
+prostitutes" was hardly a commendable amusement in the future sovereign
+of Great Britain. But this is hardly just. Vile as the calling of the
+nautch-women may be--and one of their duties is to raise funds for the
+aggrandizement of the temple to which they are attached by selling
+themselves in its courts--it does not degrade like ordinary prostitution
+where all society shuns and abhors its votary. In India both priest and
+layman respect the calling of the nautch-girls as one advancing the
+cause of religion. It is possible, therefore, to see that their moral
+nature is, in a sense, sustained by self-respect. "Being always women of
+more or less personal attractions, which are enhanced," says the same
+author, "by all the seductions of dress, jewels, accomplishments and
+art, they frequently receive large sums for the favors they grant, and
+fifty, one hundred, and even two hundred, rupees have been known to be
+paid to these sirens at one time." Nor is this very much to be wondered
+at if it be true that they comprise among their number "some of the
+loveliest women in the world."
+
+                                          M. H.
+
+
+
+
+LITERATURE OF THE DAY.
+
+
+     The Two Americas: An Account of Sport and Travel, with Notes
+     on Men and Manners, in North and South America. By Major Sir
+     Rose Lambart Price, Bart. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott &
+     Co.
+
+It would hardly be inferred from such a title that the duodecimo in
+large print which assumes to discuss the New World is occupied with the
+diary of a tour in a gunboat from Rio de Janeiro through Magellan's
+Straits and up the west coast of South America to San Diego, and thence
+by stage and railway to San Francisco, Salt Lake and Chicago. An
+exploration of this character could not be exhaustive, and the
+successors of the gallant major will find an abundance of matter left in
+the twin continents for much larger books with much smaller titles.
+
+It must be said, in justice to the writer, that the pretentiousness of
+his book is only skin-deep. It "thunders in the index," but disappears
+after the front page. He makes no claim to profundity, and is satisfied
+to be an authority among Nimrods rather than with statesmen and
+philosophers. The rod and gun suit his hand better than the pen, and he
+takes not the least trouble to disguise the fact. Style is the very
+least of his cares: we should almost judge, indeed, that he likes to
+parade his contempt for it. The pronoun _who_ he constantly applies to
+animals, from a sheep to a shellfish. Of the Uruguayan thistles he
+notes: "The abundance of this weed was quite surprising, and consisted
+chiefly of two kinds." The gentleman of color he invariably mentions as
+a _nigger_--a word as strange to ears polite in America, and perhaps as
+natural to them in England, as _nasty_. He plucks at Sir G. Wolseley's
+laurels won in "licking a few miserable niggers in Ashantee."
+
+But literary vanities can be despised by a man who drops a prong-horned
+antelope at one thousand and ninety yards; overtakes by swimming, and
+captures, a turtle in mid-ocean; finishes with a single ball a grizzly
+_who_ had put to flight the settlers of half a county in Idaho; stalks a
+guanaco in Patagonia nine feet high to the top of the head; and catches
+in one day's fishing, "the only day I really worked hard, twenty-seven
+California salmon, weighing three hundred and twenty-four pounds." The
+majesty of the facts utterly overshadows any little blemishes in the
+method of stating them. Truth so grand might well afford to present
+itself quite naked, as Truth poetically does--much more somewhat
+defective in the cut of its garments.
+
+Sir Rose Price is a cosmopolitan sportsman, having hunted the jungles of
+India, the swamps of Eastern Africa and China, the fjelds of Norway, and
+most other fields of "mimic war." As usual with persons of that taste,
+he enjoys perfect health, and, like most persons who know that great
+blessing, he is full of bonhommie and looks on the rosy side of things.
+Mosquitoes he dislikes: he denounces also the modern Peruvians. But his
+chief bitterness is reserved for the unhappy gunboat, the Rocket, which
+took eight months to get him to San Diego, and spent half an hour in
+turning round. Whether or not that particular segment of England's
+wooden walls was built in the eclipse, no reader of Sir Rose's book will
+doubt that she is rigged with curses dark. When he leaves her a cloud
+seems to be lifted from his soul. Everything thereafter is delightful,
+if we except the climate of San Francisco, which he abominates as windy
+and extreme in its daily changes, and the social system which prevails
+under Brigham Young. The "big trees" transport him; the California
+stage-drivers are unapproachable in the world; the officers of the
+United States army treat him with the most assiduous and unvaried
+courtesy and hospitality; the ladies of both coasts of the United
+States are unrivaled for beauty; and "the more one sees of America, both
+of people and country, the better one likes both." He sums up in the
+following climax: "Should any visit America after reading these lines,
+let me advise them to pay particular attention to three subjects--_i.
+e._, canvas-back ducks, terrapin and madeira. This to the uninitiated is
+a hint worth remembering." The last word, we take it, refers to the wine
+of that name, which we had thought was still in process of very slow
+recovery from the eclipse of twenty-five years ago. The major, however,
+knows wine, and speaks impartially of it. The wines of California he
+damns unreservedly: the Californians themselves, he says, never drink
+them.
+
+Sir Rose Price became intimate with the brave and unfortunate Custer. He
+was to have joined that officer on the expedition which terminated so
+fatally. His "traps were packed" and he was ready to start, when, as he
+states it, a singular train of untoward events interposed and saved his
+scalp. Secretary Belknap was impeached--General Custer was summoned to
+Washington and gave testimony unfavorable to the accused. General
+Grant's alleged disgust thereat caused Custer to be deprived of
+independent command and the power of appointing a staff. Hence _The Two
+Americas_ and one scalp less at the belt of Sitting Bull.
+
+
+     Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall): An Autobiographical
+     Fragment and Biographical Notes; with Personal Sketches of
+     Contemporaries, Unpublished Lyrics, and Letters of Literary
+     Friends. Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+Neither the biographer nor the critic finds it easy to get a good grip
+on a personal or literary career so little marked by salient features as
+that of Procter. The lives of few individuals have rolled on more evenly
+than his did for the round eighty years which made its term. Not of high
+or of low birth, rich or poor, feeble or vigorous in health, a man of
+the world or a recluse, ardent or cold in emotions, his figure is
+strangely wanting in light and shade. As a poet and a thinker his
+character is equally evasive. His verse can rarely be pronounced
+decidedly feeble or commonplace, and never lofty or thrilling. He will
+be remembered by two or three short poems tender in fancy and soft in
+finish. Inquirers who are tempted by these to explore the rest of his
+productions will find them readable, but not memorable, and will wonder
+at learning that a tragedy of Procter's attained a success on the London
+stage denied to either of Tennyson's.
+
+The poet will go down to posterity under an assumed name, that under
+which he was almost exclusively known to readers of his own day. Thus
+buried under an anonym, and gravitating at all points toward mediocrity,
+it is odd that so much interest should centre in his life and works as
+we actually find to exist. This interest may be mainly ascribed to his
+surroundings. Like Rogers, he shines by reflected light. He numbered
+among his friends or acquaintances, in varied shades of intimacy, almost
+every celebrity in British literature during two generations. To these
+were added leading representatives of the fine arts, music and the
+drama--Mendelssohn, Lawrence, Landseer, Turner, the Kembles, Edmund
+Kean. It was a notable visiting-list that embraced all the Lake school,
+Byron, Dickens, Thackeray, the two Lyttons, Scott, Sydney Smith and a
+number of others as incongruous in time and tenets. Good taste,
+amiability, the means and disposition to entertain, would have sufficed,
+with the aid of less of intellectual and imaginative power than Procter
+possessed, to keep him in good companionship with men like these, who
+felt the need of a common professional rallying-point in the metropolis.
+He avoided collision with any of their crotchets and idiosyncrasies. His
+antipathies were few, and what he had he was generally successful in
+repressing. De Quincey seems to have been lowest in his estimation. The
+genial Elia and the fiery Hazlitt divided his especial and lasting
+attachment.
+
+Procter was always haunted by the very natural impression that he owed
+to the world some use of the opportunities afforded him for the study of
+mind and character by such a concourse of leading men. But he failed to
+make even a move toward the discharge of that task until a short time
+before the close of his life. The results, slight as they are, form
+perhaps the most interesting section of the book before us. It embraces
+short notices of Byron, Rogers, Crabbe, the three chief Lakers, Leigh
+Hunt, Hazlitt, Carlyle, Haydon, Campbell, Moore and a few others.
+Coleridge, we are told, had a "prodigious amount of miscellaneous
+reading" always at command, and forgot everything in the pleasure of
+hearing himself talk when he could secure an audience. Wordsworth's
+poverty at one period of his life is illustrated by his having been met
+emerging from a wood with a quantity of hazelnuts which he had gathered
+to eke out the scanty dinner of his family. Doubtless he had collected
+finer things than nuts, if less available for material sustenance.
+Wordsworth, breakfasting with Rogers, excused his being late by saying
+he had been detained by one of Coleridge's long monologues. He had
+called so early on Coleridge, he explained, because he was to dine with
+him that evening. "And," said Rogers, "you wanted to draw the sting out
+of him beforehand." Campbell was in society cautious, stiff and precise,
+like much of his verse, but was subject to occasional outbreaks,
+analogous to the "Battle of the Baltic" and "Ye Mariners of England."
+Crabbe resembled Moore in his passion for lords. Walter Scott was big,
+broad, easy and self-poised, like one of his own historical novels. He
+impressed Procter more than any of the rest as great, and consciously
+great. Leigh Hunt was "essentially a gentleman;" he "treated all people
+fairly, yet seldom or never looked up to any one with much respect;" and
+"his mind was feminine rather than manly, without intending to speak
+disrespectfully of his intellect."
+
+Part IV. of the book is devoted to selections from letters written to
+Procter. Jeffrey, Byron, Carlyle and Beddoes are the chief
+correspondents quoted. Those from Byron are strongly Byronesque, but
+give us no new points, unless in the high moral tone he assumes in
+defending _Don Juan_. That poem does, he avers, no injustice to the
+English aristocracy, which he maintains to have been at that time the
+most profligate in Europe. The prominent details of the queen's trial
+and others like it would "in no other country have been _publicly_
+tolerated a moment." Was it Byron's theory, then, that all kinds of
+morality are merely relative, and the outgrowth of local conditions?
+
+The materials at the command of the editor of this book were obviously
+very meagre. Yet it has undoubted value. If neither a corner-stone, a
+voussoir nor a capital, it has at least its place in the edifice which
+forms the literary history of the nineteenth century. Beyond that value
+it has merit as the simple record of a life enriched by the charms of
+poetry and elegant taste and the social and domestic charities.
+
+
+     Turkey. By James Baker, M.A., Lieutenant-Colonel Auxiliary
+     Forces, formerly Eighth Hussars. New York: Henry Holt & Co.
+
+The announcement of this book as "a companion volume to Wallace's
+_Russia_" provokes a comparison greatly to its disadvantage. The
+qualities most conspicuous in Mr. Wallace's work, thoroughness of
+exposition, skillful arrangement, breadth of view and mastery of
+details, are wholly wanting in Colonel Baker's _Turkey_. The information
+which it gives from the author's personal observation is fragmentary and
+disappointing; the matter gleaned from other sources is chiefly
+surplusage; the expressions of opinion indicate positiveness rather than
+keen insight or impartial judgment; and, what renders the contrast still
+more striking, the book as evidently owes its dimensions, if not its
+existence, to the immediate interest of the subject as Mr. Wallace's
+work was the slowly-ripened fruit of long and patient study, and its
+opportune appearance a fortuitous advantage that added little to its
+attractiveness. It is, however, no ground for condemning a book that it
+has been written to supply information for which there is a present
+demand; and if Colonel Baker had confined himself to telling us what he
+knew, and his publishers had refrained from exciting undue expectations,
+the contribution might have been accepted thankfully for what it was
+worth, without special complaint in regard to its deficiencies. About
+half the book is readable, and this includes some portions which,
+besides being interesting, derive a special value from the author's
+qualifications for speaking authoritatively on the points discussed in
+them. He traveled somewhat extensively in Bulgaria; he purchased and
+cultivated an estate in the neighborhood of Salonica, and was thus
+brought into those relations of landlord, employer and taxpayer which
+entail a certain familiarity with the workings of the administrative
+machinery and with the habits and feelings of the rural population; and,
+finally, as a soldier, he writes with full comprehension and
+intelligence on the military resources of the country and the prospects
+of the war which was seen to be inevitable when his book went to press.
+In reference to the last point, he even sketches a plan of defence which
+it seems not improbable may be that which the government will adopt, if
+its own collapse or the intervention of other powers does not bring the
+struggle to a speedier termination or an unforeseen issue. He considers
+the Danube with its defences as offering no obstacle of importance to
+the overwhelming forces preparing to cross it. The Balkan affords
+numerous passes which may be traversed at all seasons except in the
+depth of winter, and no points of defence that may not easily be turned.
+But after crossing this range the Russians will be more than three
+hundred miles from their base, and all their supplies will have to be
+brought over the mountains. Their numbers will have been so diminished
+by sickness and by the large detachments necessary for masking the
+fortresses in their rear, that out of the four hundred thousand with
+which Colonel Baker supposes them to open the campaign, they cannot be
+expected to operate with more than one hundred thousand south of the
+Balkan. They will still have a difficult country before them, and from
+Burgas, on the Black Sea, where Colonel Baker proposes the establishment
+of an entrenched camp, to be constantly supplied and reinforced by
+water-transport from Constantinople, their flanks may be harassed and
+their communications threatened, making it impossible for them to march
+on Adrianople before ridding themselves of this danger. "It may be
+argued," says Colonel Baker, "that this plan of defence would be giving
+over a large portion of the empire to Russian occupation, but the answer
+is, that Turkey, being in command of the Black Sea, could strangle all
+Russian commerce in those waters until that power released her grip of
+the Ottoman throat." But whatever be the merit or the feasibility of
+this plan, it presupposes not only a design on the part of Russia to
+advance upon Constantinople, which is doubtful, but a degree of energy
+in the Turkish government and military commanders which it is almost
+certain does not exist. The Ottoman power is to all appearance perishing
+of inanition, and the mere hastening of its dissolution through external
+shocks is not to be deprecated. But it is puerile to imagine that this
+will be the only or chief result of the war now going on, if not
+arrested by intervention in one form or another. In the delicate and
+complicated relations of the European states the dismemberment of one
+empire and the aggrandizement of another are not such changes as can
+occur without affecting the whole system, and that harmony of action
+which it was found impossible to secure as a means of averting war is
+not likely to show itself when some decisive catastrophe shall have
+developed the possibilities to be hoped or apprehended, brought
+conflicting interests into play and suggested new combinations. Whether
+a different course, with joint action, on the part of the powers that
+now affect neutrality would have led to a more satisfactory result, is
+itself a mere matter of speculation; but out of England few persons will
+be disposed to agree with Colonel Baker in putting on Russia the whole
+responsibility both of the war and of the events which are pleaded as
+the justification of it. While conceding the corruption, apathy and
+general incompetence of the Turkish government, he contends that
+oppression is the exception, not the rule, that the chief mischiefs have
+sprung directly from Russian intrigue, that the country has been making
+rapid progress in many ways, and that time alone might safely have been
+trusted to bring about all desirable reforms. So far as the general
+condition of the people is concerned, his statements are entitled to
+weight. But beyond the limits of his own experience his boldness in
+assertion will not incline the reader to accept him as a safe guide. His
+book would have left a far more favorable impression had he confined
+himself to the description of what he saw and the relation of his own
+adventures, leaving Turkish history and political speculations to
+writers of a different class.
+
+
+
+
+_Books Received._
+
+
+The Music Reader; or, The Practice and Principles of the Art, especially
+adapted to Vocal Music. For the use of Schools, Classes and Private
+Instruction. By Leopold Meignen and Wm. W. Keys. Philadelphia: W. H.
+Boner & Co., Agts.
+
+Standard Facts and Figures; or, What you Do Know! What you Don't Know!!
+What you Want to Know!!! (Revised and enlarged edition.) Edited by A. G.
+Sullivan. New York: Morton & Dumont.
+
+The Divine Order of the Universe, as interpreted by Emanuel Swedenborg;
+with especial relation to Modern Astronomy. By Rev. Augustus Clissold,
+M. A. London: Longmans, Green & Co.
+
+From Traditional to Rational Faith; or, The Way I came from Baptist to
+Liberal Christianity. By R. Andrew Griffin. (Town-and-Country Series.)
+Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+The Life, Times and Character of Oliver Cromwell. (Half-Hour Series.) By
+the Right Honorable E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen, M. P. New York: Harper &
+Bros.
+
+How to Teach according to Temperament and Mental Development; or,
+Phrenology in the School-room and the Family. By Nelson Sizer. New York:
+S. R. Wells & Co.
+
+Rise of the People and Growth of Parliament, 1215-1485: Epochs of
+English History. By James Rowley, M. A. (Harper's Half-Hour Series.) New
+York: Harper & Bros.
+
+Imaginary Conversations. By Walter Savage Landor. (Fourth Series.)
+Dialogues of Literary Men, of Famous Women, etc. Boston: Roberts
+Brothers.
+
+Peru: Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the Land of the Incas, By
+E. George Squier, M. A., F. S. A. New York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+A Winter Story. By Miss Peard, author of "The Rose Garden."
+(Town-and-Country Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+That Lass o' Lowrie's. By Frances Hodgson Burnett. Illustrated by Alfred
+Fredericks. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co.
+
+Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth. Edited, with Notes, by William J.
+Rolfe, A. M. New York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+Aloys. By B. Auerbach. Translated by Charles T. Brooks. (Leisure-Hour
+Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co.
+
+Steam Injectors: Their Theory and Use. From the French of M. Leon
+Pochet. New York: D. Van Nostrand.
+
+Academy Sketches, Exhibition of 1877. With Descriptive Notes by "Nemo."
+New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.
+
+Miss Nancy's Pilgrimage: A Story of Travel. By Virginia W. Johnson. New
+York: Harper & Brothers.
+
+Mark Twain's Adhesive Scrap Book. By Samuel L. Clemens. New York: Slote,
+Woodman & Co.
+
+Transmission of Power by Wire Ropes. By Albert W. Stahl, M. E. New York:
+D. Van Nostrand.
+
+Dot and Dime. Two Characters in Ebony. By One who Knows all about them.
+Boston: Loring.
+
+Hours with Men and Books. By William Mathews, LL.D. Chicago: S. C.
+Griggs & Co.
+
+Bessie Lang. By Alice Corkran. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry
+Holt & Co.
+
+Annual Report of the Chief Signal-Officer for 1876. Washington:
+Government Printing office.
+
+Will it Be? By Mrs. Helen J. Ford. (Loring's Tales of the Day.) Boston:
+Loring.
+
+My Lady-Help, and What she Taught me, By Mrs. Warren. Boston: Loring.
+
+A Modern Mephistopheles. (No-Name Series.) Boston: Roberts Brothers.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular
+Literature and Science, Volume 20. July, 1877., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE, JULY, 1877 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 31750.txt or 31750.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/5/31750/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/31750.zip b/31750.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d294e7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/31750.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..73ec5ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #31750 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31750)