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diff --git a/32617.txt b/32617.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..13b7c63 --- /dev/null +++ b/32617.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10391 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, May, 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: The Galaxy, May, 1877 + Vol. XXIII.--May, 1877.--No. 5. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: May 31, 2010 [EBook #32617] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, MAY, 1877 *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +THE GALAXY. + +VOL. XXIII.--MAY, 1877.--No. 5. + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by SHELDON & +CO., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + +A PROGRESSIVE BABY. + + +OBER LAHNSTEIN, Jan. 16, 1875. + +So much, Susie dear, for our small miseries between Blackwall and +Rotterdam. Nurse's sickness and the crowd of Cook's tourists (Cook-oos!) +aggravated matters; but it is always a tedious bit of way, though I +never minded it in my solitary artist days, when either Dresden and +happy work or home and happy rest were at end of the hard journey. What +it is to be young, gay, and heart-free! For then I went always second +class--when I didn't go third!--(except of course on the steamers, where +the cheaper accommodation is too rude, and rough companionship too +intimate)--and once managed the entire distance from Dresden to London +for fifty thalers!--taking it leisurely too; stopping en route to "do" +Frankfort, Weimar, Heidelberg, Lourain, Bruges, and Antwerp, and to pay +two or three visits at grand houses, where they didn't dream I was fresh +from the peasants' compartments! + +And I'd no shillings and sixpences then to fee guards and porters, so +had to dodge them, look at them as if I didn't see them, lug about my +own parcels, and freeze without a foot-warmer! + +Now the way is all padded. I always go first-class if Ronayne's along, +haven't to lift so much as a hand satchel, am fairly smothered in +comforts, as beseems the true English Philistine I'm become. I've the +delightfullest husband and baby the round world can show; a nurse fit to +command the channel fleet (if that meant wisdom in babies, and she +weren't such an outrageously bad sailor!); and I've about as much vim as +a syllabub; am so nervous that I weep if Ronayne gets out of my sight +when we go for a stroll, if too little toast comes up for my breakfast, +or the chocolate isn't frothed, or the trunk won't lock, and have +aphasia to that degree that I say cancel when I mean endorse, hair-brush +when I want a biscuit, and go stumping down to dinner in a boot and a +slipper, being incapable of the connected effort of memory and will that +would get both feet into fellow shoes. + +But I'm blissfully happy all the same, and we've beheld a spectacle +lately that reconciles me perfectly with my own absurdity, and my +awkwardness with my precious tot. + +Coming up the Rhine we had a pair of fellow voyagers, circumstanced +somewhat like ourselves: first baby, not over young (the couple, not the +baby, which was only six weeks old!), but travelling without a nurse. +This mighty functionary had struck almost at the moment of their +departure from London, and a charitable but inexperienced friend came to +their aid and set forth with them in charge of the baby. + +We missed them on the Batavier, which wasn't strange, and first had our +attention drawn to them by the slow Dutch landlord's asking Ronayne, as +we stood looking idly out into the formal little garden of the new Bath +hotel at Rotterdam, if that was _his_ baby a young woman seated on one +of the garden benches was jerking up and down so violently? "Because it +was shaken about too much. Young babies couldn't be kept too quiet." +This young woman was the benevolent friend, and I suppose the parents +were off sight-seeing in the town; for every now and then the whole day +through one or another of us reported encountering the young woman +alone somewhere, always tossing the baby more or less about. + +But next day, after we had embarked on the Rhine boat, and I had helped +nurse turn our tiny state-room into a tolerable nursery (that folding +bassinnette is just _invaluable_, and lulled by the motion and the +breezy air, my lammie slept better in it than in her own quarters at +home), I went upon deck to find Ronayne, and on the way came upon a +most piteous, persistent wail, and the wail's father and mother in +abject, helpless tendance upon it. + +Of course my newly-found mother's heart took me straight to the +miserable group; and after a few sympathetic inquiries, I sat down +beside the mother, and took the querulous little creature in my arms, +where presently it hushed off to sleep. How proud I felt! for that's +more than my own baby often condescends to do for my clumsy soothing! +The father skulked away with an immensely relieved look, soon after I +sat down, and the mother grew quite confidential. She told me of the +perfidious nurse's behavior, of the friend's heroic offer, and that they +had not had a wink of sleep the night before at the hotel, for nursing +the baby had made the friend so ill that they had had to send her back +to London that morning. She didn't know but it would have been better if +she and baby had turned back with the overdone friend; but it was her +husband's holiday--six weeks he had--and he worked so hard the rest of +the year--her husband was an author, a journalist (at sight I had +guessed him a literary cus--tomer!--hair parted in the middle, crease--y +clothes, spectacles, a sparse, pointed beard, and narrow, sloping +shoulders, with a stoop in 'em)--and she thought his vacation oughtn't +to be spoiled or deferred by the child; and as he would enjoy it all a +great deal more with her than alone, she had "trusted to luck," and was +going off up the Rhine with him to make a long excursion, before +proceeding to some quiet little town on the Moselle, where another nurse +was in waiting for her. It was their first baby--yes; they had not been +married much over a year. She was fond of it, poor baby! but it was such +a pity it had come! They had not wanted children--children would utterly +interfere with their plan of life. Both its father and herself were busy +people. Oh, there was so much work to be done! and they had married to +help each other in toil for the world, and babies were a sad hindrance. + +I suggested that the work of moulding an immortal soul, fashioning the +character and destinies of a little human creature, seemed to me labor +mighty enough for any one's energies and ambition. But she answered me a +little sharply, that there were souls enough in the world already; she +wanted to be responsible for no more mistakes and wretchedness. However, +she fortunately was well and strong, and if she got a good nurse, she +would be able to devote herself to work, and to help her husband as she +had done before the child came. Was I interested in the woman question? +I answered somewhat tamely, that I was very much interested in whatever +made women better; that I believed in women, and that this rather +wearisome planet wouldn't even be worth condemning without them. + +Ah! Then she supposed I had attended the suffrage meetings in London? +Her marriage had brought her to London. Before that she had lived in +B----, and was secretary of the Woman's Suffrage Association there. +Perhaps I had seen her name--Alice Thorpe? Now it was Malise. Her +husband was Clement Malise of "The Aurora." + +This was said a little proudly, but with the pretty pride a wife has a +right to show when she believes she has a clever husband. And a good +woman I am sure she was beside whom I sat--kindly, conscientious, +earnest, spirited, full of aspiration and zeal gone astray. Pleasant to +look upon, too, when I came to separate her from her disfiguring and +thoroughly British travelling costume--a hat like an inverted basin, +with a long white ostrich feather, dingy, uncurled, and forlornly +drooping; a violet stuff gown all bunchy and tormented with woollen +ruffles, ruches, and knobby rosettes, and a dark blue bag of a +waterproof garment which I took to be the feminine correspondent of that +masculine wrap, the Ulster coat--a covering that would turn Apollo +himself into a bagman. Not very tall, solidly rather than gracefully +made, with a rather driven-together face, the excessively bulging +forehead crowding down upon a nose curved like a bird's beak, and a pair +of deep-set eyes of wonderful beauty--clear, gray, intense, brilliant, +and shaded by long dark lashes. Add a delicate, rather sarcastic mouth, +a complexion of exquisite fairness, dark brown hair without any warmth +in its color, hanging in slender short curls down her neck, and that is +Mrs. Malise. + +We had a great many conversations after this initial one, and I believe +I have promised to look them up this winter in London. They're not so +very far from us--going by the underground; Notting Hill Gate's their +station, and I really feel a call to look after that baby. He's a fine +child, but was generally so miserable and cross that almost nobody took +other than offensive notice of him. At first I pitied his poor mother +when passengers and crew, even, made much of my baby when she came up +all placid, white as a snowdrop, daintily fresh, and feathery, and soft, +with her lace frills, like a little queen in nurse's arms; but my pity +was thrown away, for Mrs. Malise only said, "I cannot spare the time to +keep my baby in white, so made that gray flannel dressing gown for him +to travel in. It's capital, and not showing the dirt, will last the +whole journey." And the little thing was so untidy! For he was treated +exactly like a parcel; his parents handled him like one, a rather +dangerous one, at arm's length, and like a parcel he was deposited +about, sometimes among rolls of carpeting on the deck, or on beer casks, +while his father and mother were hanging over the boat's rail staring at +castles and ruins, or reading up in the guide-book; sometimes happed up +in a shawl on the floor, or on a bed made up on chairs, his head on the +lowest one, his mother craning her head out at window to lose no bit of +river scenery. One day I nearly sat down upon him, as he was left, quite +by himself, lying across a camp-chair; wherever, in unexpected, +impossible corners, one stumbled upon a solitary gray object, it was +sure to be this poor mite, bemoaning himself for having come into a +place so full of cold, wet, sour smells and stomach-ache--a place where +he wasn't wanted, and nobody had time to look after him. + +"Name's Malise, eh?" said Ronayne. "_Malaise_, if that poor little +beggar knows anything about it"; and "little Malaise" we always call +the child. + +"Cries? What's he to do but cry?" burst out nurse one day in high +indignation. "There's that silly woman as thinks a young baby must only +have three meals a day like grown folks; and so she's off a-tramping +about the deck, and leaving him here a-sucking at an empty bottle, and +filling himself as full of wind as he can hold! And there's _them +things_ (nurse's favorite euphuism for an article of attire she +detests) as is hardly ever changed, and him sopping wet most of the +time! I should like to whip her!" + +I think Mrs. Malise is a good deal drawn toward me for two or three +reasons. She has found out that I've been an artist--lived by myself, +had my studio, paid my way--and she accordingly respects me as a member +of the sisterhood who's at least tried to do something. Then I agree far +too closely with St. Paul, and she "don't altogether hold with Paul," +and wants to convert me to whatever form of kaleidoscopic non-belief she +cherishes. Then I'm too luke-warm about the suffrage. I admit that I see +no reason why I shouldn't have it, but I don't and can't see in my +having it the panacea for all social ills. I'm asked what I think of +Hodge in England, and Terence and Scip in the United States getting +rights withheld educated women citizens; and I can only plead pitifully +that while Hodge and Terence and Scip are ignorant and boorish, I, +having already roughed it a good deal, would rather individually not +contest anything very closely with them--a plea which is most justly +scouted as a mere get-off--a bit of heartless fine-ladyism. Have I read +Mill? No. From the time my school days ended, at seventeen, for ten--no, +twelve years, until I married, two years ago, I had neither time nor +eyes for reading. Why, I could almost count upon my fingers the books I +had read--"after school-books, of course, and then some anatomical +reading which don't count; there's--let me see--'The Improvisatore,' +Vasari's 'Lives of Painters,' 'Charles Auchester,' Rio's 'Lectures on +Christian Art,' 'Christie Johnstone,' 'La Mare au Diable,' two or three +of Balzac's novels, and all of poetry and of Ruskin I could ever lay +hands on!" + +She looked astonished for a moment; then her face brightened. "Here's +richness!" I'm sure her thought might have been translated. "Here's a +virgin soil with nothing to dispute the growth of good seed." And I feel +I'm to be taken in hand. I'm quite ready. It is even something to look +forward to in the horrible London winter. She told me "little Malaise" +is to be brought up after the most recently approved scientific manner, +by weight, measure, and clockwork. His birth, even, was a triumph of +principle, for on that occasion Mrs. Malise was attended by a young +woman who had been unsuccessful in her medical studies, and failed to +obtain her degree--"Because I believed it jealousy, you know, and I +wished to encourage her!" + +When he is three or four years old (certainly as early as they take +them!) he is to be put in the kindergarten at Geneva, and left there for +some years. It's a consolation to think that he can't be anywhere more +desolate than he's sure to be at home. + +Meanwhile, work for papa and mamma, and bouts of colic for him, poor +little chap! + +Last night I assisted at a distance at his nightly bath. The combined +forces of father and mother were required for this process, and the +ceremony was so utterly whimsical that I should have enjoyed it without +a pang if the small object most concerned had only been a dog. The pair +had stationed themselves in a strong draught, and the child, cold, +unhappy, lay stripped and squirming on his mother's lap, while from a +cup full of water in a tiny basin she _dabbed_ him with a bit of +flannel precisely as if he were an ink splash which she was essaying to +soak up with blotting paper before it should spread about much! + +The father's part was to try and present an available surface for the +dabbing, which he did by drawing out first an arm, then a leg of the +child at full length, just as one pulls an elastic cord to find how far +it will stretch, letting it go with a snap when at full tension--as he +dropped arm or leg when little Malaise resented such unwarrantable +experiments on his ductility by a sudden, louder-than-usual roar. It was +piteous! But to see that father and mother--he lanky, spectacled, grave +as an owl, she serious, abstracted, revolving doubtless some scheme of +work, mechanically getting through this piece of business, recognized as +necessary by their conscientiousness, but perplexing in its nature, and +unaccountable as having fallen to their lot--no propriety, no indignant +sympathy for the baby, could quite withstand the drollery of the scene. + +But nothing could pacify nurse! "The idiots!" she almost screamed. "The +child will die, and I hope it will, for she's not fit to have it. I hope +it will die!" + + +BIEBRICH, 21st. + +I have kept this open, thinking I could tell you definitely when we +shall get into our quarters at Schwalbach, but nothing is settled yet, +and we've been pottering about in these river towns. As Schlangenbad and +Wiesbaden are very full, I counsel my lord to stop here where we are +well off; for this is a very comfortable hotel, and I don't want to do +any more unpacking till we are finally bestowed in our rooms at the +Villa Authes. + +There is an abandoned palace of the Grand Duke of Nassau here--one of +the ruins in King William's track of '66. It is so melancholy to see +these ruined principalities. Union's a very nice word, but forced union, +matrimonial or political, is not comfortable either to see or endure. +However, here's the palace, with its lovely neglected gardens, grass +uncut, wild flowers flaunting where should be trim velvet turf only, +fountains plashing in weedy ponds--and an admirable resort we find the +shaded avenues and deserted parterres for ourselves and our small queen. +We could scarce be better provided for. + +To-day, watching from our windows the steamer coming down the river, we +spied, on its deck, our travelling companions again--Mr. and Mrs. +Malise--and, sure enough, the little gray parcel on the bench not far +from mamma! Going at last, I hope, toward that nurse on the Moselle. +Poor little Malaise! + +Address your next as last year. And with fond love to the whole +household, + +Your Lil. + + * * * * * + +18 STANFIELD GARDENS, } + SOUTH KENSINGTON, } + February 10, 1875 } + +At last I've seen my "poor little Malaise" again. Your questions would +have kept him in my memory if there had been a chance of my forgetting +the woful baby; and so soon as we were warmly settled into house, home +habits, and friendly circle again (and O how charming even London in +winter is after seven mortal weeks in Ireland, where scarce anybody has +two pence, and everybody is lazy, and everything above the peasant rank +is saturated with conventionality and the poorest pride! For the Great +Mogul approves of his grandchild, and was pleased to insist on the +prolongation of our visit till I was nearly wild with having to behave +myself, and during the last week was a dozen times on the very brink of +"breaking out." Oh, that horrid life of buckram, inanity, and +do-nothing-ism! Even Ronayne, who knows pretty much the worst of me, +thought I had gone crazy when we were once fairly off in the train--a +carriage all to ourselves. I sang, I whistled, I gnawed chicken-bones, I +talked all the slang I could remember, I smoked a cigarette--I went +generally to the mischief. And when we had really got back to dear No. +18, and were cosy in the dining-room over our dessert, no speering +servant by, I put my elbows on the table; I made a tipsy after-dinner +speech, Ronayne applauding, and calling, "Hear! hear!" I rushed around +to his end of the table and hugged him, making a "cheese" on my way +back--in short, the Bohemian Lil Graham avenged liberally the +suffocations the Great Mogul's daughter-in-law had nearly died of. If +ever I stop one hour over a fortnight in the home of my husband's +fathers again! A fortnight is just supportable)--and to go back to my +first-page sentence, I set forth one morning to hunt up the little man. +I found my people easily enough--a good house in a good street--"A large +house, that must require much thought and care," I said to Mrs. Malise; +whereupon she told me the care did not fall upon her, as the house was, +after an imperfect fashion, conducted as a cooeperative boarding-house--a +germ, she hoped, of a cooeperative hotel or family club. Half a dozen or +so of their friends occupied the house with them, and they paid an +admirable housekeeper to manage for them. It was only a make-shift--not +what one liked to mention when speaking of future possibilities of +confederated homes--had I read the article in a late number of the +"Victoria Magazine" containing a magnificent picture of cooeperative +living?--but better than dreary lodgings or isolated homes, especially +when a woman devoted her life to other than household duties. I replied +that I believed every ardent spirit at some time or another was +discontented with the beaten way, and dreamed of glorious possibilities +of associate life and labor, wherein all selfishness should be +suppressed, justice and all the beatitudes reign, and souls develop all +their capabilities scarce conscious of even the body's hampering; but +that practically the only successful lay experiment in communism I had +ever heard of was that early one of the Indians in Paraguay under the +care of the Jesuit missionaries--Phalansterians who wore their rosaries +around their necks because they had no pockets in which to carry them! + +And I thought that people without bonds of kinship or close sympathy +would not happily bear being forced into incessant, intimate +companionship unless they were either saints or prodigies of +imperturbable courtesy. + +Well, life was a choice of evils, she answered me, and their experiment +had so far succeeded very well. But I might judge for myself a little: +would I, with my husband, dine with them on either one of such and such +days the next week, to meet this confederate household assembled? This +was an advance I had not counted on. My especial interest was in the +child, and though I liked well enough for myself accepting an invitation +that promised to be something out of the common way in dinners, I was +hardly prepared to pledge Ronayne. He not only likes a good dinner, and +feels injured when he doesn't get it, but he is very particular as to +the society in which he eats it. He can be gloriously jolly and informal +when he likes; but he wouldn't be his father's son if he weren't what I +call just a bit snobbish about the people he will know in +England--London especially. + +But if he was going in for the correct thing, why on earth did he +insist upon marrying me? Because I never was the correct thing, and +he fell it love with me when he was quite old enough to know better; +and after his friends had for years reckoned him as a fastidious, +foreordained bachelor; _he_ says because I was so wholly unlike the +young ladies of his generation that he was surprised out of himself. +And mamma told him all my faults that he didn't know already, and how +people had insisted before upon marrying me, and two or three times I +had been silly enough to half think I would let them, and then backed +out and vowed I would have no husband but Art--and was generally so +impressed with the risks he ran that I believe she even wept over + his prospective unhappiness. But he would have his way; he didn't +want a housekeeper; he didn't want a well informed young lady; his +shirt-buttons and stocking-darning weren't likely to depend upon his +wife; he should hate a patient Grizzle; he didn't marry for his +friends--you can imagine the rash arguments. But I gave him a last +chance of escape, for the night before we were married; when I'd given +away all my old clothes, and the license was bought, the ring in his +breast-pocket, and the wedding breakfast being laid in the next room, I +said to him before all of them in papa's study: + +"Ronayne, don't you want one more chance of freedom? Are you frightened +about to-morrow morning, and the pell-mell household mamma promises you? +Because if you are, I'll let you off now. You may run away in the night. +I'll be a forsaken maiden, and papa shan't have the loch dragged, or +advertise a 'Mysterious and Heart-Rending Disappearance.'" + +"Too late. It's a hopeless case. I'm much too far gone for that. And I'm +not going to help you to get rid of me, Mistress Lil." + +I _was_ frightened rather, and then and there I made papa give me a +five-pound note to run away from Ronayne with in case I found, during +our wedding journey, that I'd made a mistake and Art was my only true +husband after all. Ronayne added five pounds more so that I could run +away first-class, and have something with which to bribe accomplices! +And that ten pounds is in my jewel-case now, and I think I shall keep it +for my daughter, and give it her on her wedding-day as a reserve fund, +in case she needs it as her mother once pretended to fear she herself +might do. + +However, for once I was discreet, and answered Mrs. Malise that I should +like to come, but must see my husband before promising ourselves. Then I +asked to see my small friend; but his mother, consulting her watch, +begged me to excuse his non-appearance to-day, for this was just the +moment when his nurse would be laying him down for his nap; and though +often he would not sleep at all, yet system was everything, and he had +to lie in his little bed two hours, though his eyes were broad open all +the while. + +"But will he lie there so long without crying?" + +"Oh, two or three times he nearly cried himself into spasms because he +was not taken up; but once he found he could not conquer Johanna he +gave up trying, and now lies peaceably enough. He had to learn early +that there are things more important in the world than his little self. +Nothing do I object to more than a household revolving around children +as a centre. Marriage _ought_ to double powers--make people unselfish; +while, as a rule, it only enlarges the sphere of egotistic +concentration and absorption. If I gave up my time and thoughts to Mill +(we've named him for this generation's great English apostle of +liberty), as ordinary mothers do, it would seem to me a wickedness. But +I scarcely find him the least hindrance. I have begun to speak a little +in our suffrage meetings this winter, and have been away a good deal +from home for that purpose--once for three weeks at Liverpool and in +the north of Ireland." + +"But you do not mean without your baby?" + +"Oh, certainly. He is only a little animal as yet, requiring animal +cares which I can provide without making the sacrifice of ability for +higher work. Johanna attends to him far better than I could, and is not +above such uses. I believe in economizing forces. By and by, when his +intellect begins to develop, he will be far more interesting to me, and +I shall be of use to him." + +"You weaned him, then, very early?" + +"Oh, dear, yes. Since he was three months old, he's been brought up as +Pip was. But perhaps 'Great Expectations' was not among your books +read." + +"No; but I suppose you mean your baby's brought up by hand? But I can't +think how you could bear to put him away from you if it wasn't actually +needful. Why, my heart's broken only to think that in a month or so more +my baby will not depend upon me, humanly, for all her little life." + +"Ah, plainly you have a vocation to be a mother. I haven't; and if I had +to care for Mill in all things, it would be simple slavery to me. But it +must be a great step from art to the nursery too." + +"That means a step _down_. I suppose I should have thought so once, but +never since I held my baby in my arms, and she's a far more wonderful +creation to me than any old master's cherub I ever copied. And not my +baby alone, but all babies. I never pass one in the street now, ever so +ugly or dirty, without a warm feeling for it, and no charity opens my +purse so quickly as a _creche_, or a foundling, or orphan asylum. I +could have been very happy as an artist always. Art is full of the +noblest strength and compensations, and I own that the ordinary life of +the English Philistine is irksome to me to the last degree; but what +should I do now without a husband and child? And what would I not give +up or bear for them? You see I'm only a very humdrum woman, Mrs. +Malise." + +"Whatever I see, I don't despair of winning you over to our side. I +think it only needs that this great movement for woman's freedom and +enlightenment, all that underlies it, all it implies, be fairly brought +before you, to receive your assent and cooeperation. And, to be unwisely +frank, perhaps, it is such women as you we ought to gain, must +gain--women of sentiment, tenderness, tact, suave manner--sympathetic +women, to bring a gracious element into the contest. The workers already +in the field have fought so long, against such odds and obloquy, that it +is no wonder all the softness, conciliation are gone out of them, and +that their aspect and address suggest only warfare, aggressive and +unsparing." + +And so on during the call. I wish I could photograph for you Mrs. +Malise's drawing-room. You will not suppose it cumbered with the +ordinary pretty feminine litter; but I can tell you Aunt Janet's +sewing-room couldn't begin to rival it in grim dead-in-earnestness: +straight up and down chairs that mean work; a writing-table big enough +for a board-room, and fitted with suitably mighty writing implements; a +slippery green leather couch upon which no laziness could be so +desperate as to court repose; books lining one wall, and papers, stacks +of papers everywhere--manuscripts and newspapers; no ornaments, unless a +clock, a Cleopatra's needle in black marble, a skull, a wild-eyed, +shock-headed oil portrait of a man I guessed to be the father of my +hostess, and photographs of Mill, Mazzini, and Swinbourne be considered +decorative. + +Once at home again, I flew up stairs to Ronayne's dressing-room to run +over his engagement tablet. One of the days named by Mrs. Malise was +clear, so I said quietly at dinner, "Oh, Ronayne, don't make any +engagement for Friday, for we are to dine at the Coming Events New Era +Peep o'Day Associate Club." + +"_Plait-il, madame?_" + +So I told him all about it. He groaned, made two or three pathetic +observations about grocer's wine, raw meat, greasy, peppered _entrees_, +and the cantankerous woman who would fall to his share at dinner, but +resigned himself like a lamb--or a well-trained husband, which is much +the same thing. + +And once I had fairly sent off our acceptance to Mrs. Malise, I didn't +spare him one bit. I told him that for once in his life he was to part +company with his fossil world, and find himself in the vanguard of +civilization, breathing another atmosphere in the high fellowship of +the evangels of religious and social liberty. I besought him not to +mortify me by any expression of his limited ideas and convictions upon +the topics we should probably hear discussed, and above all not to +betray horror at any enunciation that seemed to his feeble apprehension +to strike at the root of all possible or endurable tarrying on this +planet. "Don't let it be known," I entreated, "what a clog you are upon +my soarings after the illimitable. I _am_ a victim, but the anguish and +humiliation of my lot are too recent and painful for publicity--as yet! + +"Let them think you idiotic, dear--that goes without saying because +you're a man--but not that you're a tyrant to whom a poor-spirited wife +must succumb. + +"And you'll see Americans, dear, who've come over to find out why these +effete regions and peoples still linger on the earth, and to them +you'll only be a 'blarsted Britisher,' and you're not to resent it if +they treat you accordin'. And there'll be Internationalists, to whom +you're a 'bloated aristocrat,' and they won't have, to say nice +manners. Then if you don't take Mrs. Malise down, you'll may be squire +some grand new light. I can't tell you how to behave, for I don't know +if the men of the future are to be deferential, or free and easy; but +you must take a hint from the behavior of the other men. She'll wear a +garnet-silk gown trimmed with white Yak lace, a pea-green ostrich +feather, and ribbons in her hair, and a profusion of jingling Berlin +steel ornaments, and she'll either trample you under foot and heap you +over with wisdom, or she'll find you're her affinity. And if that +happens, never mind me, love. If you _wish_ to go after affinities, go! +_I_ shall always be the same--the meek, forgiving woman who knows that +a wife's duty is to smile always--to upbraid never. Leave me and your +poor angel child if you will! We both believed in indissoluble marriage +once, but that needn't hinder you. Renounce----" + +And about here, I think it was, my eloquence and pathos were suddenly +checked in their flow. Men, husbands especially, take such mean +advantages! And reasoning, and calm, intellectual conversation have, +somehow, so little charm for them! I tell you painful truths, my Susie, +but they're for your good and guidance. I know that long-legged, +yellow-haired laddie out in New Zealand is a demi-god. Of course he +is--they all are--but it's best not to marry 'em--if one can help it! + +But the dinner. I was dreadfully puzzled what to wear--whether to get +myself up as a severe matron, or appear in the costume suited to me--a +frivolous woman, _jeune encore_, and with a mind not above +millinery--when a little note from Mrs. Malise, felicitating herself +and me that the day of our dinner was also their reception evening, +turned the scale against the brown silk in favor of a quite celestial +palest green-blue Irish poplin I got in Dublin this last visit. The +tint suits my pale dark face admirably, and with rather a profusion of +white lace, and pink coral ornaments that Ronayne's brother Gus, the +major, just home from India, gave me at Christmas--exquisite swinging +fuchsias, with golden stamens and leaves--the toilette was so effective +that I was quite ready to hear Ronayne's, "Oh, what a gorgeous swell!" +when I exhibited myself just before starting. And, "Ould Ireland for +ever!" as his eye fell on the gown he helped me to choose. "And are +these the laces my father gave you?" taking hold of one of my frills. +"Do they look like antimacassars? Because if they don't, they never +were fabricated in your tight little island, my Paddy. I'd do a deal +for you. You couldn't help being born there, poor boy; _mais toute +chose a son terme_, and even my devotion won't stretch to the +wearing Irish lace." + +Our host and hostess received us in the confederate drawing-room, where +were three or four other guests already, and the greater number of the +associate household and the lacking members presented themselves before +dinner was announced. Fourteen or fifteen people in all, and not, to the +casual glance, differing strikingly from unassociate dwellers in +"isolate homes and dreary lodgings." + +There were, first, a brusque-mannered but uncommonly handsome Lady ---- +----. If there's a lord, or plain mister ---- ----, I don't know, but +certainly he's not _en evidence_. Lady ---- ---- is an authoress on the +woman question and on marriage, and is generally given to the most +forward of "advanced" opinions and ideas. Ronayne insultingly says they +won't harm me, for I should never get a notion of what they really +are--a speech which I treated with the oblivious contempt it deserved, +though inwardly tickled at the lucky shot; for it's quite true that, +attracted by her great beauty--the most singular combination you can +fancy--boldly cut features, softened by babyish roundness of curves, +and enchanting dimples, not a wrinkle or crow-foot to be traced, an +infantine complexion, all transparent and softly pink, and this grownup +baby's face surmounted by a mass of crisp-waved, snowy, but +glitteringly snowy hair!--I hovered around her for awhile during the +evening, and could make nothing whatsoever of the oracular sentences +she let fall. With her her son, a man of twenty-six to thirty, +priggish, argumentative, contrary-minded--altogether the most cub-like +young Briton I have lately encountered. Next, a widow with two +daughters--the mother what, of all things, but a Plymouth +sister!--given to hospital and prison work, tract distribution, and +mothers' meetings--a tall, spare, gentle-faced woman, dressed with +almost Quakerish simplicity. And run over and away with by her +daughters, no question--two monstrous girls of thirty, if a day; real +grenadiers, nearly six feet high; one painfully thin and large-eyed, +the other as stout as tall, and both overpowering in spirits and +flippant or cynic smartness of talk. One, the thin one, whom I liked +best, amused me during the evening by telling me how she got rid of +bores--young, feeble little society men, brief of stature and of wit. +"I endure the little creature as long as I can, and when he has buzzed +all his little buzzes about the weather, and subjects suited to his +size, there comes a pause--a long pause, for I don't help him. Then, if +he is too young to know that he should take himself off, and he begins +desperately upon some other threadbare topic, then I act. I am seated +on a low lounge or ottoman; I begin to rise as if I caught sight of +some one I knew at a distance; and I rise, rise, slowly, slowly, but +up, up, up I go, till sometimes I stand on tiptoe, or on a hassock, my +long skirts hiding all that, and the little man, who has watched me +first idly, then curiously, gradually gets horror-struck, and finally +bursts desperately away, absolutely tongue-tied with fright." + +"And no wonder!" I couldn't help saying, for she had mounted and mounted +as she described the scene, until there really was something +supernatural and alarming in the slim, white-draped length of lady, and +the height from which the big blue eyes in their hollow orbits shone +down upon me. + +Then an editor and his wife--the editor of "The Food Regenerator," if +you please--and a dark, unwholesome looking, wizened little man, who I +am sure would have been the better for a good rubbing with sand-paper +and emery powder. His wife was a plaintive, helpless, hapless, +washed-out woman, who, sidling apologetically about in a frowsy costume +of some yellow-white woollen stuff, made me think of a dirty white +cat--a likeness I was sorry to have forced on me when I had heard a bit +of her history; for the only wonder is how she's kept courage enough to +go on dressing or living at all. It seems that _M. le mari_ is by way +of being a social as well as dietetic regenerator, and is as full of +uncomfortable fads as man can be. They have no fortune, unless you +reckon as such seven small children, and over and over again he's +thrown up a good appointment or salary because he "must be free to +write his convictions--great truths the world needs." And to lighten +matters still further, he believes that service should be bartered, not +paid for in coin; so they could almost never have a servant, and when +they did get one it was of course some poor wretch who was glad to +shelter herself on any terms for the moment, but who could be trusted +no more than puss in the dairy. Besides carrying her own fardel, this +poor wife was expected to fold and direct wrappers for her husband's +precious journal, he finding "mechanical writing too exhausting and +stultifying." + +Next--let me see--two gentlemen, bachelors, one a pugnacious +fellow-countryman to whose tremendous r-r's my heart warmed in this +lisping land of Cockaigne--a proof-reader at one of the great publishing +houses; the other as curious a specimen as I've encountered--a man of +sixty or so, of courtly manners, an ex-Anglican parson, an ex-Catholic +convert, a present "seeker after truth"--a man who knows something about +everything and believes the last thing--but sure of nothing save that +this world's a comfortable place, and loving nothing, one would swear, +but his pug dog, a superb creature, fairly uncanny for wisdom, but a +vilely ill-tempered beast, gurr-ing if one but looked at it. + +And three ladies make up, I believe, the tale of the household: a +rather young widow, charming in an unearthly, seeress-like +fashion--finest porcelain to her finger-tips, but frail as a breath; a +handsome, solid blonde girl, with cold blue eyes, and no gold in her +fair hair, studying to be what she calls "a healer"--an earnest +advocate of the food-regenerating editor's views upon diet, but quite +out-Heroding Herod in her practice, for her fare seems only to lag a +pace behind Nebuchadnezzar's in simplicity; and last a witty +_Americaine_, an art student at the South Kensington school, with whom +I fraternized directly, and from whom I had all the information my own +eyes didn't glean. A girl twenty-four or five years old, I fancy, and +oh, so satisfyingly handsome--not tall, but majestic in proportions and +pose: a beautifully shaped head whose outlines were only revealed by +closely-pinned braids of fine dark hair, and a face like a lily for +calm and purity--too pale, indeed, for brilliant health, but the faint +shadows under the eyes, about the temples and mouth that she owes to +months in dimly-lighted rooms are really most effective aids to her +peculiar beauty. She captivated me quite; Ronayne, too, who is a great +conquest, for usually he dislikes Americans, finding them, he says, so +shallow and yet so cockahoop. And the other guests at dinner were a +lady lecturer, American, too, young, decidedly pretty, but pert as a +pigeon, an Englishwoman who's doing something very notable in +reformatories and kindergartens, a Liberal M.P. dancing attendance on +the young lady lecturer, and a grand old white-headed lion of a man, a +famous literary M.D.--heterodox to a frightful degree, I'm told, but +certainly one of the most delightful neighbors I ever had at a dinner +table. + +And a very enjoyable dinner-party it was, altogether: a simple but +carefully arranged menu, the dishes thoroughly well cooked--two or +three foreign touches, _maccaroni aux tomates_, American-trimmed +peaches with cream, and little fairy cakes--cat tongues--do you know +them?--and roasted almonds in Spanish fashion, and as good claret +Sauterne and sparkling Mosel (for I know a good glass of wine when I +get it) as one need wish for. + +The food-regenerator and his wife and the blonde "healer" had seats +together, and were helped only to vegetables and fruits--the girl, +indeed, taking only unbolted bread, of which an enormous supply in the +shape of hard little cakes was placed before her, together with a large +vegetable-dish full of stewed prunes; and the two mountains of bread and +fruit had disappeared when the meal was ended--how many pounds I don't +know, but then dinner is her sole meal in the twenty-four hours. + +"Did you see that young woman's dinner?" burst out my liege that night +when we were discussing our late experiences. "Disgusting! It ought to +have been served in a trough! I looked every instant to see her fall +from her chair and have to be carried out. If one is to gorge oneself +like an anaconda once a day upon fruit and chopped straw in order to +live to a good old age, I think we'll elect to be cut off in our +youthful bloom." + +But the talk at table was clever and gay, and thoroughly un-English in +that it was general instead of being broken up into a dozen depressing +_sotto-voce_ dialogues. The "healer," indeed, was too busy eating to +open her mouth much uselessly, and the white cat was too timid for +speech. But her editor made amends. He talked for three; not ill, but +with a flavor of bitterness, and not enough in the third person. + +"Oh, women are the stronghold of superstition," he exclaimed apropos of +some passage between himself and the American art-student--"fettered +hard and fast by hoary prejudices," he went on with rather a confusion +of metaphors, "else the world might move." + +"But we bind you, upon a man's testimony, but by a single hair," +answered his opponent: "why not burst so slight a shackle?" + +"And you to talk of freedom!" he went on as if unhearing. "Why do you +wear that emblem at your throat?" (A plain gold cross which came into +bold relief against her black velvet bodice.) + +"Possibly because I'm a Christian." She answered without change of +voice, but stopping the conversation by addressing some one nearer her. +But the little porcelain widow, with a pretty upward movement, like the +flutter of a bird on her nest, caught at a floating thread, and said in +her tiny flute voice. + +"But, Mr. Ridley, if he is interested in symbolism, will remember that +the cross is a very ancient symbol, typifying the active and passive +forces in nature--good and evil, light and darkness. And is it not very +curious how everywhere the sign is impressed on external nature--in the +heavens, in crystals, in flowers, in a bird's flight? In the arts too." + +"And the legends, fables, and touching or droll superstitions concerning +it are endless," said the white-headed doctor beside me. "And yet I'm +often struck with the comparative newness of what may be termed +literature of the cross. This dwelling on apparition in so many forms of +the Story of the Cross is quite modern, and I fancy that a Good Friday +service, a following through the Three Hours' Agony with a colloquial +soliloquy, if one may use such an expression, upon the Seven Last Words, +would have seemed as novel to the early Christians as it does now to the +Low Church portion of our beautifully consistent Establishment." + +"Though the symbol was always probably in private use among the early +Christians," struck in the truth-seeker, "I believe its first public +appearance would not date further back than its triumphant one upon the +Roman eagles. In the Catacombs, I'm told, the Virgin and Child appear in +the oldest work, or symbolism--the Cross never save as executed by late +hands." + +"May there not be subjective reasons for that?" asked my porcelain +widow. "I mean for the modern adoration of the Cross? Do you not think +we are much softer hearted, much more keenly susceptible of all the +finer emotions than were those old Greek, Roman, and Jewish converts? +One feels the same thing, it seems to me, in mystic reading. The old +visions were triumphant, simple, or, so to say, material--the very A B C +of mysticism; while the visions of later mystics are complicated, +involved, like the soul-life of this time, often agonizing beyond +natural power of endurance. And the stigmatized saints are of these +later times." + +"And then," said the art-student, "I think they didn't realize in those +early days how long time was going to be, and how tough and many-headed, +evil. The faith was but young then. Perhaps they couldn't have borne to +know the length and fluctuations of the fight--and they felt so sure of +speedy victory, that our Lord's resurrection and ascension appealed to +them more keenly than His passion." + +"All reasonable theories," replied my neighbor. "But, apropos of some of +the legends concerning the Tragedy of the Cross, the weeping willow, the +trembling aspen, the robin redbreast, the red crossbill, the passion +flower, and so many more, I hardly know a more naive example of the way +in which our forefathers pressed the exterior world into testimony for +their belief than occurs in an old picture in an Augustinian monastery +in Sussex. + +"It is a fresco on the wall of a chamber--subject, the Nativity--and the +animals therein are made to publish the event in words supposed to +resemble their characteristic sounds and cries. A cock, crowing, is +perched at the top, and a label from out his mouth has the words, +'Christus natus est!' 'Quando, quando?' quacks the duck. Hoarsely the +raven, 'In hae nocte.' 'Ubi? ubi?' inquires the cow. And, 'Bethlehem,' +bleats out the lamb." + +"Oh, Mrs. Stainton, I beg your pardon," suddenly called out the +ex-Anglican parson from the foot of the table, and despatching a servant +with a plate to the little widow. "I quite forgot your predilection." + +"But somebody else may like the _inner consciousness_ too," returned +she, transferring to her own plate the fowl's gizzard sent. "You make +me feel like a terrible old French aunt of mine--a _gourmande_ who +spent two or three hours every day in consultation with her cook, a +man, concerning her for the most part solitary dinner, and who was at +the last found dead with her cook-book lying open on her knee! My +oldest brother, when a little fellow, dined with her one day. In his +helping of fowl was included the inner consciousness. Childlike, he put +this tid-bit carefully aside as a delicious last morsel. But the old +lady eyed his plate with great discontent, growing every moment more +grim. Finally she could bear it no longer, and, poising her fork, she +dexterously harpooned the _bonne-bouche_, and triumphantly transferred +it to her own plate, remarking to the dreadfully disappointed child, 'I +see, my nephew, that you don't love this little portion. Now _I_ do, so +it is best I should have it.' We none of us could tolerate this aunt, +but my brother's feeling toward her ever after was really venomous in +its spitefulness." + +"That reminds me," said the Scotchman, "that I saw a photograph of +Dixblanc to-day, and was astonished to find her not at all an +evil-looking person. I quite believe now that she murdered her mistress +in a fit of passion, as she says, and not at all for robbery. And there +must have been awful provocation. Fancy living with a disreputable, +avaricious, nagging old Frenchwoman!" + +"But how worse than with an old Englishwoman of like characteristics?" +asked somebody. + +"Oh, because the _Francaise_ is more _fine_, exasperating, and utterly +unrestrained by terrors of Mrs. Grundy and the _decent_," replied the +ex-Anglican, ex-things-in-general truth-seeker. + +You will easily imagine that the talk, as it ran from one thing to +another, was now and then upon topics of which I haven't the faintest +gleam of knowledge--the doctrines of Swedenborg, the philosophizings of +Spinoza and Vaurenargues. (Ronayne as usual spells the hard names for +me, but you, as a wise and much-reading damsel, will know who was meant +and all about it.) + +After the ladies had returned to the drawing-room (for even in this New +Light house the stupid fashion remains of gentlemen lingering alone, or +together, or however you like it--you know what I mean--over their +wine) I made a little tour of inspection of the public parts of the +establishment with Mrs. Malise. They've a common library and +reading-room, and most of the associates have their individual +sitting-rooms. Dinner is a fixed meal, and all the members meet +thereat, but breakfast and lunch may be taken at any time within +certain hours, to suit the convenience of each member. "We are too +small in number to make it possible to order our meals _a la carte_, +or to economize in general living expenses as it might suit us +individually to do. We can only reduce household costs in the mass, and +then share these pretty equally. But this is only a beginning. By and +by we shall have splendid confederate homes, under whose roofs the +simplest and the costliest fashions of living may go on side by side. +But to prove so much as we have done is a gain, and in separate homes +the same amount of comfort we have here would cost us at least double, +and would be, for some of us who have neither time nor talent for +domesticity, quite unattainable at any price. What, under my +administration, a little home would be upon our income of L500 a year, +I shouldn't like to experience. And Mrs. Stainton! (The little widow.) +Why, she comes of one of the oldest of the county families in Somerset; +was reared like an exotic, lived chiefly upon cream and forced fruit, +though now and then she trifled with something solid--an almond soup, a +clear jelly, a bit of game, or an intricate _entree_! Never dreamed of +going beyond their pleasure gardens on her own feet, and knew how to do +no earthly thing save to read, write, talk. She read 'Alton Locke,' and +by way of comment married a national schoolmaster, the son of a +brickmaker on her father's estate! There was a grand hubbub, and before +she'd had time to be too much disgusted with her martyr role--martyrdom +to break down the barriers of caste--her husband left her a penniless +widow, and since then her father allows her a small income, but +sentences her to banishment from that decorous household whose +proprieties she outraged. She can endure nothing, knows nothing of any +practical matters. What would she do with L150 a year, in a dingy +parlor 'let,' with a flock bed, a burnt chop, a long-brewed cup of tea, +and a frowsy-haired, smutty-faced 'slavey' to open the door and attend +grudgingly and slatternly upon her? + +"But we are not all chiefly moved by economic considerations. Some of +our members have very considerable incomes, and might live where and how +they pleased, but they seem not less satisfied with our experiment than +are the poorer associates. There is such relief from care, and we may +see as much or as little society as we choose without offence or +burden." + +Something interrupted Mrs. Malise's argument here, and I asked to see +baby. + +"Mill? Oh, certainly, if you like; but we shall find him asleep." + +And asleep he was in one of those dreary back rooms that are sure to be +sunless--a room that is both day and night nursery, I suppose, for there +was a hot fire, a close smell, and the German nurse sat making lace +under a gas jet flaming away unshaded. + +He was very pale, poor little man! and has grown very fat--a soft, +sagging flesh! I remarked upon his pallor to his mother, and she +answered that he had measles about the time he was weaned, and that he +had never had much color since. But he seemed well, and was he not a +great stout fellow? + +What treatment had he in measles? I asked. Oh, none! They didn't believe +in doctors over much, and thought nature managed best unhindered. Mill +was scrubbed with carbolic soap, and that was all the special treatment +he had. + +Returning to the drawing-rooms, we found them rapidly filling with the +evening guests, and a busy hum of conversation going on. A slender, +graceful, feeble-looking young man entered just before us. "That is +Dodge, the famous medium," whispered my companion; but the words were +hardly uttered before the young man gave a sharp cry, flung his arms +wildly out, then sank as if prostrated on a near-by lounge. "Oh, what is +it? what is it, Mr. Dodge?" cried several persons, rushing to him. + +"She! she!" was the answer, with difficulty, and then he languidly +pointed to a group of eager talkers under the chandelier. At the moment +Lady ----, one of the group, her white hair startlingly gleaming under +the full blaze of light, turned, with some sense of the commotion, and +as she did so called out, "Why, Dodge! Is it my old friend Dodge?" and +came toward him. The young man rallied, rose, and gave her his hand. "It +was so sudden," he explained. "Four years ago Lady ----'s hair had not a +white thread in it; and when I first caught sight of her, crowned by +that mass of snow, I quite believed it was her spirit I saw." + +"A great deal may happen in four years," answered Lady ----. "But how +are you in these days, Mr. Dodge?" + +"Oh, wretchedly ill, as usual," he replied. "The Duc de ---- insisted +upon it that I must come over to England and try cold water again, and +the Emperor, when I left, engaged me to meet him next season at Ems on +condition that I had a more respectable body for my spirit to travel +about in. Here's a little souvenir he gave me at parting," showing a +magnificent diamond on his finger; and I moved on and lost the gorgeous +reminiscences. There was a crowd before the evening was over, and I was +introduced to a score or so of notables in the unorthodox world. But I +seemed destined to funny little dramatic surprises. I had drawn near the +piano to listen to Miss Hedges's "Drink to Me Only," etc., and was +sitting quietly when the song was ended, speaking to no one, not +consciously looking at any one, when a voice near me said, "That is my +wife!" and I woke up to find a roly-poly, little old fellow, all smiles, +insinuation, and plausibility, with a fringe of venerable white hair +around a head round as an apple, bald and shining, smooth, evidently +addressing himself to me. "Yes, that is my wife," he went on, and I +looked with some bewilderment at a young woman his gaze indicated--a +very young woman in a brilliant pink evening dress, the young woman +brilliantly colored herself in solid white and red, with black eyes, +black hair in rebellious tight curls, and a face with about as much +expression as a plate. "Looks rather young for me, don't she? But it's +all right, for the spirits give her to me!" + +"And pray, Mr. Wardle, what did the spirits do for the old wife you left +in Terre Haute?" inquired Miss Hedges, wheeling about toward us. "I am +Anna Hedges, and two years ago I painted a portrait of your grandchild, +Benny Davis, for Mrs. Wardle in New York." + +"Er--er--I was not aware--er--I remember, that is--er--I think I have +seen--er, er--yes! yes! A very worthy woman, the first Mrs. Wardle--very +worthy. But narrer, narrer! too undeveloped, in fact, to--er--receive +the new gospel, or to--er--make any use of the freedom I gave her to +find a more harmonious partner, as I have done," and the old creature +having floundered into a little more self-possession, smiled amiably, +and retreated in tolerable order. + +"I _do_ beg your pardon," went on Miss Hedges to me impulsively; "but +that sleek old villain! I really couldn't help my outburst. His real +wife is one of the nicest, gentlest of simple old women, and dying of +shame, I heard the other day, for what has befallen herself and her +children through the delusions and misconduct of an infatuated man who +has grandchildren older than this 'harmonious partner' he introduces as +his wife here abroad. The 'first Mrs. Wardle!' It made me think of one +of our Jerseymen who begged that a certain hymn might be sung at his +wife's funeral 'because the corpse was particular fond of that hymn!'" + +When I could speak for laughter, I inquired, "But is this then a +spiritualistic headquarters? Because Mrs. Malise pointed out Dodge, the +medium, to me early in the evening?" + +"No, not more than of all other insanities, crudities, and +unconventionalities--conventionalities too; for with perhaps one +exception, all the members of the household, whatever their opinions, +are to the last degree rigid as to the proprieties. But at one time or +another one meets here all shades of belief and non-belief--much of the +orthodox and I should say all the heterodox London. Very curious I find +it, and though sometimes outraged, as to-night, I'm oftener amused with +my 'proper study of mankind.' But you, as an Englishwoman, would hardly +conceive how droll to me was my first experience of one of these +receptions. You know, of course, at once, as everybody does, that I'm a +Yankee? I came in rather late one evening with an English artist friend, +and found, enthroned in the other room, the centre of a throng of bowing +gentlemen, a woman as black as the chimney back, her neck and arms bare, +white gloves, a gilt comb and white ostrich feather in her woolly +hair--a genuine darkey! and Mme. V.--the artist, Mme. V.--hurried up to +me. 'Oh, do you know your accomplished countrywoman, Miss Symonds? No? +Then pray let me introduce you to her, we find her so charming!' And I +dare say she was charming, only it was very queer at first to encounter +Chloe _en reme_!" + +Then we had a long talk, getting speedily away from persons and things +to the old familiar subject--art. How the girl is working! And how happy +and absorbed in her work she is. + +"Oh, Ronayne," I said, as we settled back in the carriage for our drive +home, "do I smell of turpentine and paint rags? I had such a good time! +Miss Hedges and I talked shop for a whole hour." + +And then, and later, we compared notes. He was critical, but had been +amused, and, trust me, I had the wit to hold my tongue about "the first +Mrs. Wardle!" + +For over and above my interest in that poor baby, several things draw +me toward this associate household, and I should not like to pursue an +acquaintance there if Ronayne manifested any decided contempt or +hostility. He bursts out about the food-reforming trio, and the young +lady-lecturer's manners are not to his fancy--too free and easy. She +boasts of her superiority to hampered Englishwomen. _She_ lives here by +herself in lodgings, and has gentlemen visiting and dining with her +alone, or goes alone, in full dress, to dine, at 7 or 8 o'clock, with a +gentleman friend stopping at the Langham Hotel. These are American +fashions--innocent permitted freedoms of our republican sisters, she +says. She is a pretty little boaster, with ready wit and a sharp +tongue; but there are Americans and Americans, and I hardly think it +would occur to an English gentleman to stand flicking a heavy +curtain-tassel playfully into Miss Hedges's face while chatting with +her at a public reception, even if he were an _epris_ Liberal, M.P.--as +Ronayne says Mr. Vane did in the little orator's the other night. + + * * * * * + +But there! there! With love from each to all, not another word this time +of my little New Light baby or his expansive household, from + +Your own Lil. + +(To be continued.) + + + + +THE CLIMBING ROSE. + + + Climb, oh! climb the golden ladder, + Song of mine: + Climb till thou dost reach her heart + For whom I pine. + + Cease not, lest thou lose the bliss + For which I sigh: + Climb till thou dost touch her heart-- + Ah! why not I? + +D. N. R. + + + + +MISS MISANTHROPE. + +By JUSTIN MCCARTHY. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +"THE POET IN A GOLDEN AGE WAS BORN." + + +Victor Heron did not leave Mrs. Money's quite as soon as he had +intended. He had made a sort of engagement to meet some men in the +smoking-room of his club; men with whom he was to have had some talk +about the St. Xavier's Settlements. But he remained talking with Minola +for some time; and he talked with Lucy and with other women, young and +old, and asked many questions, and made himself very agreeable, and, as +was his wont, thought every one delightful, and enjoyed himself very +much. Then Mr. Money chanced to look in, and seeing Heron, bore him away +for a while to his study, to talk with him about something very, very +particular. Mr. Money saw Herbert Blanchet, and only performed with him +the ceremony which Hajja Baba describes as "the shake-elbows and the +fine weather," and then made no further account of him. Mr. Blanchet, +seeing Heron invited to the study, and knowing from his acquaintance +with the household what that meant, conceived himself slighted, and was +angry. Mr. Money always looked upon Blanchet as a sort of young man whom +only women were ever supposed to care about, and who would be as much +out of place in the private study of a politician and man of business as +a trimmed petticoat. + +There was, however, some consolation for the poet in the fact that he +had Minola Grey nearly all to himself. He secured this advantage by a +dexterous stroke of policy, for he attached himself to his sister and +did his best to show and describe to her all the celebrities; and +Minola, only too glad, came and sat by Mary, and they made a very happy +trio. Herbert was inclined to look down upon his sister as a harmless, +old-fashioned little spinster, who would be much better if she did not +try to write poetry. He felt convinced for a while that Minola must have +the same opinion of her in her secret heart, and would not think the +less of him for showing it just a little. But when he found that Miss +Grey took the poetess quite seriously, and had a genuine affection for +her, his sister's value rose immensely in his eyes; he paid her great +attention, and, as has been said, he had his reward. + +It grew late; the rooms were rapidly thinning. Minola and Miss Blanchet +were to remain at Mrs. Money's for the night. Blanchet could not stay +much longer, and had risen to go away, when Victor Heron entered. He +came up to speak to Minola, and Minola introduced him to her particular +friend and _camarade_, Miss Blanchet; and he sat beside Miss Blanchet +and talked to her for a few moments, while Blanchet took advantage of +the opportunity to talk again with Minola. Then Mr. Heron rose, and +Herbert rose, and Mary Blanchet, growing courageous, told Heron that +that was her brother and a great poet, and in a very formal, +old-fashioned way, begged permission to make them acquainted. Mr. Heron +was a passionate admirer of poetry, and occasionally, perhaps, tried +the patience of his friends by too lengthened citations from +Shakespeare and Milton; but in modern poetry he had not got much later +than "The Arab physician Karshish," which he could recite from end to +end; and "In Memoriam," of which he knew the greater part. He was, +however, modestly conscious that his administrative engagements in the +colonies had kept him a little behind the rest of the world in the +matter of poetry, and it did not surprise him in the least that a very +great poet, whose name had never before reached his ears, should be +there beside him in Mrs. Money's drawing-room. He felt delighted and +proud at meeting a poet and a poet's sister. + +It so happened that after saying his friendly good night to his +hostess--a ceremony which, even had the rooms been crowded, Mr. Heron +would have thought it highly rude and unbecoming to omit--our fallen +ruler of men found himself in Victoria street with Mr. Blanchet. + +"Are you going my way?" Heron asked him with irrepressible sociability. +"I am going up Pall Mall and into Piccadilly, and I shall be glad if you +are coming the same way. Are you going to walk? I always walk when I +can. May I offer you a cigar? I think you will find these good." + +Herbert took a cigar, and agreed to walk Heron's way; which was, indeed, +so far as it went, his own. Heron was very proud to walk with a poet. + +"Yours is a delightful calling, sir," he said. "Excuse me if I speak of +it. I remember reading somewhere that one should never talk to an author +about his works. But I couldn't help it; we don't meet poets in some of +our colonies; and your sister was kind enough to enlighten my ignorance, +and tell me that you were a poet. I always thought that a charming +anecdote of Wolfe reciting Gray's 'Elegy,' and telling his officers he +would rather have written that than take Quebec. Ay, by Jove, and so +would I!" + +Mr. Blanchet had never heard of the anecdote, and had by no means any +clear idea as to the identity or exploits of Wolfe. But he was anxious +to know something about Heron, and therefore he was determined to be as +companionable as possible. + +"You must not believe all my sister says about me. She has an +extravagant notion of my merits in every way." + +"It must be delightful to have a sister!" Victor Heron said +enthusiastically. "Do you know that I can't imagine any greater +happiness for a man than to have a sister? I envy you, Mr. Blanchet." + +Heron was in the peculiar position of one to whom all the family +relationships present themselves in idealized form. He had never had +sister or brother; and a sister now rose up in his imagination as a sort +of creature compounded of a simplified Flora MacIvor and a glorified +Ruth Pinch. His novel-reading in the colonies was a little +old-fashioned, like many of his ideas, and his habit of frequently using +the word "sir" in talking with men whom he did not know very familiarly. + +Mr. Blanchet was not disposed, from his knowledge of Mary Blanchet, to +hold the possession of a sister as a gift of romantic or inestimable +value. To say the truth, when Victor spoke so warmly of the delight of +having a sister, he too was not setting up the poetess as an ideal. He +was thinking rather of Miss Grey, and what a sister she would be for a +man to confide in and have always with him. + +Meanwhile Herbert, with all his self-conceit, had common sense enough to +know that it would not do to leave Heron to find out from others that +the great poet Blanchet had yet to make his fame. + +"My sister and I have been a long time separated," he said. "She lived +in the country for the most part, and I had to come to London." + +"Of course--the only place for a man of genius. A grand stage, Mr. +Blanchet--a grand stage." + +"So of course Mary is all the more inclined to make a sort of hero of +me. You must not take her estimate of me, Mr. Heron. She fancies the +outer world must think just as she does of everything I do. I am not a +famous poet, Mr. Heron, and probably never shall be. I belong to a +school which does not cultivate fame, or even popularity." + +"I admire you all the more for that. It always seems to me that the poet +degrades his art who hunts for popularity--the poet or anybody else for +that matter," added Victor, thinking of his own unpopular performances +in St. Xavier's Settlements. "I am delighted to meet you, Mr. Blanchet. +I have seen so much hunting after popularity in England that I honor any +man of genius who has the courage to set his face against it." + +"My latest volume of poems," Blanchet said firmly, "I do not even mean +to publish. They shall be printed, I hope, and got out in a manner +becoming of them--becoming, at least, of what I think of them; but they +shall not be hawked about book shops and reviewed by self-conceited, +ignorant prigs." + +"Quite right, Mr. Blanchet; just what I should like to do myself if I +could possibly imagine myself gifted like you. But still you must admit +that it is little to the credit of the age that a poet should be forced +thus to keep his treasures from the public eye. Besides, it may be all +very well, you know, in your case or mine; but think of a man of genius +who has to live by his poems! It's easy talking for men who have +enough--my enough, I confess, is a pretty modest sort of thing--but you +must know better than I that there are young men of genius--ay, of real +genius--trying to make a living in London by writings that perhaps their +own generation will never understand. There is what seems to me the hard +thing." Mr. Heron grew quite animated. + +The words sent a keen pang through Blanchet's heart. His new +acquaintance, whom Blanchet assumed to be confoundedly wealthy, +evidently regarded him as a person equally favored by fortune, and +therefore only writing poetry to indulge the whim of his genius. Herbert +Blanchet had heard from the Money women, in a vague sort of way, that +Mr. Heron had been a governor of some place; it might have been Canada +or India for aught he knew to the contrary; and he assumed that he must +be a very aristocratic and self-conceited person. Blanchet would not for +the world have admitted at that moment that he was poor; and he +shuddered at the idea that Heron might somehow learn all about Mary +Blanchet's official position in the court-house of Duke's Keeton. For +all the dignity of poetry and high art, Mr. Blanchet was impressed with +a painful consciousness of being small somehow in the company of Mr. +Heron. It was not merely because he supposed Heron to be wealthy, for he +knew Mrs. Money was rich, and that Lucy would be an heiress; and yet he +was always quite at his ease with them, and accustomed to give himself +airs and to be made much of; but it occurred to him that Mr. Heron's +family, friends, and familiar surroundings would probably be very +different from his; and he always found himself at home in the society +of women, whom he knew that he could impress and impose on by his +handsome presence. Yes, he felt himself rather small in the society of +this pleasant, simple, unpretending young man, who was all the time +looking up to him as a poet and a child of genius. + +Greatly pleased was the poet and child of genius when Victor Heron asked +him to come into his rooms and smoke a cigar before going to bed. + +"You don't sleep much or keep early hours, I dare say, Mr. Blanchet; +literary men don't, I suppose; and I only sleep when I can't help it. +Let us smoke and have a talk for an hour or two." + +"Night is my day," said Blanchet. "I don't think people who have minds +can talk well in the hours before midnight. When I have to work in the +day I sometimes close my shutters, light my gas, and fancy I am under +the influences of night." + +"I got the way of sitting up half the night," said Victor simply, "from +living in places where one had best sleep in the day; but I am sure if I +were a poet, I should delight in the night for its own sake." + +There was something curious in the feeling of deference with which Heron +regarded the young poet. He considered Blanchet as something not quite +mortal, or at all events, masculine; something entitled to the homage +one gives to a woman and the enthusiasm we feel to a spiritual teacher. +Blanchet did not seem to him exactly like a man; rather like one of +those creatures compounded of fire and dew whom we read of in legend and +mythology. The feeling was not that of awe, because Blanchet was young +and good-looking, and wore a dress coat and white tie, and it is +impossible to have a feeling of awe for a man with a white tie. It was a +feeling of delicate consideration and devotion. Had some rude person +jostled against or otherwise insulted the poet as they passed along, +Victor would have felt it his duty to interpose and resent the affront +as promptly as if Minola Grey or Lucy Money were the object of the +insult. To his unsophisticated colonial mind the poet was the sweet +feminine voice of the literary grammar. + +Heron occupied two or three rooms on the drawing-room floor of one of +the streets running out of Piccadilly. He paid, perhaps, more for his +accommodation than a prudent young man beginning the world all over +again would have thought necessary; but Heron could not come down all at +one step from his dignity as a sort of colonial governor, and he +considered it, in a manner, due to the honor of England's administrative +system, that he should maintain a gentlemanlike appearance in London +while still engaged in fighting his battle--the battle which had not +begun yet. Besides, as he had himself told Minola Grey, his troubles +thus far were not money troubles. He had means enough to live like a +modest gentleman even in London, provided he did not run into +extravagant tastes of any kind, and he had saved, because he had had no +means of spending it, a good deal of his salary while in the St. +Xavier's his lodgings; and his condition seemed to Blanchet, when they +entered the drawing-room together, and the servant was seen to be +quietly busy in anticipating his master's wants, to be that of an easy +opulence whereof, in the case of young bachelors, he had little personal +knowledge. It was very impressive for the moment. Genius, and +originality, and the school quailed at first before respectability, West +End rooms, and a man servant. + +The adornments of the rooms were, to Mr. Blanchet's thinking, atrocious. +They were, indeed, only of the better class London lodgings style: +mirrors, and gilt, and white, and damask. There were doors where there +ought to have been curtains, carpets where artistic feeling would have +prescribed mats or rugs; there were no fans, not to say on the ceiling, +but even on the walls. The only suggestion of art in the place was a +plaster cast of the Venus of the Louvre which Heron himself had bought, +and which in all simplicity he adored. Mr. Blanchet held, first, that +all casts were nefarious, and next, that the Venus of Milo as a work of +art was beneath contempt. One of the divinities of his school had done +the only Venus which art could acknowledge as her own. This was, to be +sure, a picture, not a statue; but in Mr. Blanchet's mind it had settled +the Venus question for ever. The Lady Venus was draped from chin to toes +in a snuff-colored gown, and was represented as seated on a rock biting +the nails of a lank, greenish hand; and she had sunken cheeks, livid +eyes, and a complexion like that of the prairie sage grass. Any other +Venus made Herbert Blanchet shudder. + +The books scattered about were dispiriting. There were Shakespeare, +Byron, and Browning. Mr. Blanchet had never read Shakespeare, considered +Byron below criticism, and could hardly restrain himself on the subject +of Browning. There were histories, and Mr. Blanchet scorned history; +there were blue books, and the very shade of blue which their covers +displayed would have made his soul sicken. It will be seen, therefore, +how awful is the impressiveness of respectability when, with all these +evidences of the lack of artistic taste around him, Mr. Blanchet still +felt himself dwarfed somehow in the presence of the occupier of the +rooms. It ought to be said in vindication of Mr. Heron, that that poor +youth was in nowise responsible for the adornments of the rooms, except +in so far as his plaster cast and his books were concerned. He had +never, up to this moment, noticed anything about the lodgings, except +that the rooms were pretty large, and that the locality was convenient +for his purposes and pursuits. + +The two young men had some soda and brandy, and smoked and talked. +Blanchet was the poorest hand possible at smoking and drinking; but he +swallowed soda and brandy in repeated doses, while his host's glass lay +still hardly touched before him. One consequence was that his humbled +feeling soon wore off, and he became eloquent on his own account, and +patronizing to Heron. He set our hero right upon every point connected +with modern literature and art, whereon it appeared that Heron had +hitherto possessed the crudest and most old-fashioned notions. Then he +declaimed some of his own shorter poems, and explained to Heron that +there was a conspiracy among all the popular and successful poets of the +day to shut him out from public notice, until Heron felt compelled, by a +sheer sense of fellow-feeling in grievance, to start up and grasp his +hand, and vow that his position was enviable in comparison with that of +those who had leagued themselves against him. + +"But you must hear my last poem--you _shall_ hear it," Herbert said +magnanimously. + +"I shall be delighted; I shall feel truly honored," murmured Victor in +perfect sincerity. "Only tell me when." + +"The first reading--let me see; yes, the _first_ reading is pledged to +Miss Grey. No one," the poet grandly went on, "can hear it before she +hears it." + +"Of course not--certainly not; I shouldn't think of it," the dethroned +ruler of St. Xavier's Settlements hastened to interpose. "What a noble +girl Miss Grey is! You know her very well, I suppose?" + +"I look upon her," said the poet gravely, "as my patron saint." He threw +himself back in his chair, raised his eyes to the ceiling, murmured to +himself some words which sounded like a poetic prayer, and swallowed his +brandy and soda. + +Victor thought he understood, and remained silent. His heart swelled +with admiration, sympathy, and an entirely innocent, unselfish envy. + +"Still," the poet said, rising in his chair again, "there is no reason +why you should not hear the poem at the same time. I am going to-morrow +to read the poem to Minola--to Miss Grey and Mary. I am sure they will +both be delighted if you will come with me and hear it." + +"I should like it of all things, of course; but I don't know whether I +ought to intrude on Miss Grey. I understood from her that she rather +prefers to live to herself--with her friends of course--and that she +does not desire to have visitors." + +"You may safely come with me," the poet proudly said. "I'll call for you +to-morrow, if you like." + +Victor assumed that he safely might accept the introduction of his new +acquaintance, and the appointment was made. + +If Mr. Heron could, under any possible circumstances, be brought to +admit to himself that the society of a poet was a little tiresome, he +might perhaps have acknowledged it in the present instance. The +good-natured young man was quite content for the present to sink and +even to forget his own grievance in presence of the grievances of his +new acquaintance. His own trouble seemed to him but small in comparison. +What, after all, was the misprizing of the political services of an +individual in the face of a malign or stupid lack of appreciation, which +might deprive the world and all time of the outcome of a poet's genius? +Heron began now to infer that his new friend was poor, and the +conviction made him more and more devotedly sympathetic. He was already +dimly revolving in his mind a project for the publication of Blanchet's +poems at the risk or expense of a few private friends, of whom he was to +be the foremost. Some persons have a genius, a heaven-bestowed faculty, +for the transfer of their own responsibilities and cares to other minds +and shoulders. Already two sympathetic friends of a few hours' standing +are separately taking thought about the publication of Mr. Blanchet's +poems without risk or loss to Mr. Blanchet. Still, it must be owned that +Mr. Blanchet's company was growing a little of a strain on the attention +of his present host. Blanchet knew absolutely nothing of politics or +passing events of any kind in the outer world, and did not affect or +pretend to care anything about them. Indeed, had he been a man of large +and liberal information in contemporary history, he would in all +probability have concealed his treasures of knowledge, and affected an +absolute and complacent ignorance. Outside the realms of what he called +art, Mr. Blanchet thought it utterly beneath him to know anything; and +within his own realm he knew so much, and bore down with such a terrible +dogmatism, that the ordinary listener sank oppressed beneath it. Warmed +and animated by his own discourse, the poet poured out the streams of +his dogmatic eloquence over the patient Heron, who strained every nerve +in the effort to appreciate, and in the honest desire to acquire, +exalted information. + +At last the talk came to an end, and even Blanchet got somehow the idea +that it was time to be going away. Victor accompanied him as far as the +doorway, and they stood for a moment looking into the silent street. + +"You haven't far to go, I hope?" + +"No, not far; not exactly far," the poet answered. "I'll find a cab, I +dare say. To-morrow, then, you'll come with me to Miss Grey's. You +needn't have any hesitation; you will be quite welcome, I assure you. +I'll call for you." + +"Come to breakfast then at twelve." + +"All right," the complacent Blanchet answered, his earlier awe having +given place to an easy familiarity; "I'll come." + +He nodded and went his way. Victor Heron looked for a while after his +tall, slender, and graceful figure. + +"He's a handsome fellow," Heron said to himself, "and a poet, and I can +easily imagine a girl being in love with him, or any number of girls. +She is a very fine girl, quite out of the common track. She must be very +happy. I almost envy him. No, I don't. What on earth have I to do with +such nonsense?" + +He returned to his room and sat thinking for a while. All his political +worrying and grievance-mongering seemed to have lost character somehow, +and become prosaic, and unsatisfying, and vapid. It did not seem much to +look forward to, that sort of thing going on for ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE GAY SCIENCE IN A NEW ILLUSTRATION. + + +Mary Blanchet was, for the time, one of the happiest women on the earth +when she had to bestir herself, on their returning home next day, to +make preparations for the test-reading of her brother's poems. To hear +Herbert's poems read was a delight which could only be excelled by the +pride and joy of having them read to such an audience. She had so long +looked up to Minola as a leader and a princess that she at last came to +regard her as the natural arbitress of the destiny of any one belonging +to the Blanchet family. In some vague way she had made up her mind that +if Miss Grey only gave the word of command, the young poet's works must +go forth to the world, and going forth must of course be estimated at +their proper worth. Her pride was double-edged. On this side there was +the poet-brother to show to her friends; on that side the friend who was +to be the poet-brother's patroness. Her "animula vagula, blandula" +floated all that day on the saffron and rose clouds of rising joy and +fame. + +Nor was her gratification at all diminished when Herbert Blanchet called +very early to crave permission to bring Mr. Heron with him, and when he +obtained it Blanchet had thought it prudent not to rely merely on the +close friendship with Miss Grey, of which he had spoken a little too +vauntingly to Victor the night before, and it seemed to him a very +necessary precaution to call and ask permission to introduce his friend. +He was fortunate enough to find Minola not only willing, but even what +Mary might have thought, if she had considered the matter, suspiciously +willing, to receive Mr. Heron. In truth, Minola had in her mind a little +plot to do a service to Mary Blanchet and her brother in the matter of +the poems, and she had thought of Mr. Heron as the kindliest and +likeliest person she knew to give her a helping hand in the carrying out +of her project. Mary, not thinking anything of this, was yet made more +happy than before by the prospect of having a handsome young man for one +of the audience. As has been said already, she had the kindliest +feelings to handsome young men. Then the presence of another listener +would make the thing quite an assembly; almost, as she observed in +gentle ecstasy more than once to Minola, as if it were one of the poetic +contests of the middle ages, in which minstrels sang and peerless ladies +awarded the prize of song. + +So she busied herself all the morning to adorn the rooms and make them +fit for the scene of a poet's triumph. She started away to Covent +Garden, and got pots of growing flowers and handfuls of "cut flowers," +to scatter here and there. She had an old guitar which she disposed on +the sofa with a delightfully artistic carelessness, having tried it in +all manner of positions before she decided on the final one, in which +the forgetful hand of the musician was supposed to have heedlessly +dropped it. All the books in the prettiest bindings--especially +poems--she laid about in conspicuous places. Any articles of +apparel--bonnets, wraps, and such like, that might upon an ordinary +occasion have been seen on tables or chairs--were carefully stowed away +in their proper receptacles--except, indeed, for a bright-colored shawl, +which, thrown gracefully across an arm of the sofa, made, in conjunction +with the guitar, quite an artistic picture in itself. Near the guitar, +too, in a moment of sudden inspiration, she arranged a glove of +Nola's--a glove only once worn, and therefore for all pictorial effect +as good as new, while having still the pretty shape of the owner's hand +expressed in it. What can there be, Mary Blanchet thought, more winsome +to look at, more suggestive of all poetic thought, than the +carelessly-lying glove of a beautiful girl? But she took good care not +to consult the owner of the glove on any such point, dreading with good +reason Minola's ruthless scorn of all shams and prearranged +affectations. + +Mary was a little puzzled about the art fixtures, if such an expression +may be used, of the room--the framed engravings, which belonged to the +owner of the house and were let with the lodgings, of which they were +understood to count among the special attractions. She had a strong +conviction that her brother would not admire them--would think meanly of +them, and say so; and although Minola herself now and then made fun of +them, yet it did not by any means follow that she should be pleased to +hear them disparaged by a stranger. About the wall paper she was also a +little timorous, not feeling sure as to the expression which its study +might call into her brother's critical eye. She could not, however, +remove the engravings, and doing anything with the paper was still more +completely out of the question. There was nothing for it, therefore, but +to hope that his poetry and his audience would so engross the poet as to +deprive his eyes of perception for cheap art and ill-disciplined colors. + +There was to be tea, delightfully served in dainty little cups, and Mary +could already form in her mind an idea of the graceful figure which +Minola would make as she offered her hospitality to the poet. An alarm, +however, began to possess her as the day went on, about the possibility +of Minola not being home in time for the reception of the strangers. In +order that she might have the place quite to herself to carry out her +little schemes of decoration, the artful poetess had persuaded Minola +not to give up her usual walk in the park, and now suppose Minola forgot +the hour, or lost her way, or was late from any cause, and had not time +to make any change in her walking dress, or actually did not come in +until long after the visitors had arrived! What on earth was she, Mary, +to do with them? + +This alarm, however, proved unfounded. Minola came back in very good +time, looking healthy and bright, with some raindrops on her hair, and +putting away with good-humored contempt all suggestions about an +elaborate change of dress. Miss Blanchet would have liked her leader to +array herself in some sort of way that should suggest a queen of beauty, +or princess of culture, or other such imposing creature. At all events +she would have liked trailing skirts and much perfume. She only sighed +when Minola persisted in showing herself in very quiet costume. + +The rattle of a hansom cab was heard at last--at last, Mary thought--in +reality a few minutes before the time appointed; and the poet and Mr. +Heron entered. The poet was somewhat pale, and a little preoccupied. He +had a considerable bulk of manuscript in his hand. The manuscript was in +itself a work of art, as he had already explained to Victor. Each page +was a large leaf of elaborately rough and expensive paper, and the lines +of poetry, written out with exquisitely careful penmanship, occupied but +a small central plot, so to speak, of the field of white. The margins +were rich in quaint fantasies of drawing, by the poet himself, and +various artists of his brotherhood. Sometimes a thought, or incident, or +phrase of the text was illustrated on the margin, in a few odd, rapid +strokes. Sometimes the artist, without having read the text, contributed +some fancy or whimsy of his own; sometimes it was a mere monogram, +sometimes a curious, perplexed, pictorial conceit; now merely the face +of a pretty woman, and again some bewildering piece of eccentric +symbolism, about the meaning whereof all observers differed. It must be +owned that as Minola looked at these ornaments of the manuscript, she +could not help feeling a secret throb of satisfaction at the evidence +they gave that the reading would not be quite so long as the first sight +of the mass of paper had led her to expect. + +Mr. Blanchet did not do much in the way of preliminary conversation. He +left all that to Minola and Victor; and the latter was seldom wanting in +talk when he believed himself to have sympathetic listeners. It should +be said that the well-ordered guitar effect proved a failure; for Mr. +Blanchet soon after entering the room flung himself into what was to +have been a poetic attitude on the sofa, and came rather awkwardly on +the guitar, and was a little vexed at the thought of being made to seem +ridiculous. + +Every one was anxious that a beginning of the reading should be made, +and no one seemed to know exactly how to start it. Suddenly Mr. Blanchet +arose, as one awakened from a dream. + +"May I beg, Miss Grey, for three favors?" + +Minola bowed and waited. + +"First, I cannot read by daylight. My poems are not made for day. They +need a peculiar setting. May I ask that the windows be closed and the +lamps lighted? I see you have lamps." + +"Certainly, if you wish," and Minola promptly rang the bell. + +"Thank you very much. In the second place I would ask that no sign of +approval or otherwise be given as I read. The whole must be the +impression, not any part. It must be felt as a whole, or it is not felt +at all. Until the last line is read no judgment can be formed." + +This was discouraging and even depressing, but everybody promised. +Minola in particular began to fear that poets were not so much less +objectionable than other men as she had hoped. She could not tell why, +but as she listened to the child of genius she was filled with a strange +memory of Mr. Augustus Sheppard. Everything that seemed formal and +egotistic reminded her of Mr. Augustus Sheppard. + +"Then," continued Herbert, "when I have finished the last line, you will +perhaps allow me to leave you at once, without formality, and without +even speaking? I ask for no sudden judgment; that I shall hear another +time; too soon, perhaps," and he indulged in a faint smile. "But I +prefer to go at once, when I have read a poem; it is a peculiarity of +mine," and he passed his hand through his hair. "Reading excites me, and +I am overwrought. It may not be so with others, but it is so with me." + +"I can quite understand," the good-natured Victor hastened to say. +"Quite natural--quite so. I have often worked myself into such a state +of excitement, thinking of things--not poetry, of course, but colonial +affairs, and such dry stuff--that I have to go out at night, perhaps, +and walk in the cool air, and recover myself. Don't you feel so +sometimes, Miss Grey?" + +"Oh, no; I am neither poet nor politician, and I have nothing to think +about." At the moment she thought Blanchet a sham, and Heron rather a +weak and foolish person for encouraging him. What would you have of men? + +"I have felt so often," Mary Blanchet said with a gentle sigh. + +Miss Grey did not doubt that people felt so; that everybody might feel +so under appropriate conditions. It was the deliberate arranging of +preliminaries by Mr. Blanchet that vexed her; it seemed so like +affectation and play-acting. She was prepared to think his poetry +rubbish. + +It was not rubbish, however; not mere rubbish, by any means. Mr. +Blanchet had a considerable mastery of the art of arranging together +melodious and penetrating words, and he caught up cleverly and adopted +the prevailing idea and purpose of the small new group of yet hardly +known artists in verse and color, to whom it was his pride to belong. +His poems belonged to what might be called the literature of disease. In +principle, they said to corruption, "Thou art my father," and to the +worm, "Thou art my mother and my sister." They dealt largely in graves +and corpses, and the loves of skeletons, and the sweet virtues of sin, +and the joys of despair and dyspepsia. They taught that there is no +truth but paradox. Mr. Blanchet read his contributions with great +effect: in a voice now wailing, now threatening, now storming fiercely, +now creeping along in tones of the lowest hoarseness. What amazed Minola +was, to find that any man could have so little sense of the ridiculous +as to be able to go through such a performance in a small room before +three people. In a crowd there might be courage; but before three! It +was wonderful. She felt horribly inclined to laugh; but the gleaming +eyes of the poet alighted on hers and fastened them every now and then; +and poor Mary too, she knew, was watching her. + +It was very trying to her. She endeavored to fill her mind with serious +and sad thoughts; and she could not keep herself from thinking of the +scene in Richter's "Flegeljahre" where the kin of the eccentric testator +are trying in fierce rivalry who shall be the first to shed a tear for +his loss, in presence of the notary and the witnesses, and thereby earn +the legacy to which that exasperating condition was attached. After all +it is probably easier to restrain a laugh than to pump up a tear, +especially when the coming of the tear must bring the drying glow of a +glad success with it. Minola's condition was bearable; and indeed, when +she saw the genuine earnestness of the poet, her inclination to laugh +all died away, and she became filled with pity and pain. Then she tried +hard to admire the verses, and could not. At first the conceits and +paradoxes were a little startling, and even shocking, and they made one +listen. But the mind soon became attuned to them and settled down, and +was stirred no more. Once you knew that Mr. Blanchet liked corpses, his +peculiarity became of no greater interest than if his liking had been +for babies. When it was made clear that what other people called +hideousness he called beauty, it did not seem to matter much more than +honest Faulconbridge's determination, if a man's name be John, to call +him Peter. + +The poet sometimes closed his eyes for a minute together, and pressed +his hand upon his brow, while drops of perspiration stood distinctly on +his livid forehead. But he took breath again, and went on. He evidently +thought his audience could not have enough of it. The poem was, in fact, +a chaplet of short poem-beads. Many of its passages had the peculiarity +that they came to a sudden end exactly when the listeners supposed that +the interest of the thing was only going to begin. When a page was ended +the poet lifted it, so to speak, with the sudden effort of one hand and +arm, as though it were something heavy like a shield, and then flung it +from him, looking fixedly into the eyes of some one of the three +listeners the while. This formality impressed Mary Blanchet immediately. +It seemed the very passion and wrestling of poetic inspiration; the +prophetic fury rushing into action through the prophet. + +Minola once or twice glanced at the face of Victor Heron. At first it +was full of respectful and anxious attention, animated now and then by a +sudden flicker of surprise. Of late these feelings and moods had +gradually changed, and after a while the settling-down condition had +clearly arrived. At length Miss Grey could see that while Mr. Heron +still maintained an attitude of the most courteous attention, his ears +were decidedly with his heart, and that was far away--with his own +grievance and the St. Xavier's Settlements. + +At last it was over. The close, for all their previous preparation, took +the small audience by surprise. It came thus: + + I asked of my soul--What is death? + I asked of my love--What is hate? + I asked of decay--Art thou life? + And of night--Art thou day? + Did they answer? + +The poet looked up with eyes of keen and almost fierce inquiry. The +audience quailed a little, but, not feeling the burden of response +thrown upon them, resumed their expectant attitudes, waiting to hear +what the various oracles had said to their poetic questioner. But they +were taken in, if one might use so homely an expression. The poem was +all over. That was the beginning and the end of it. The poet flung away +his last page, and sank dreamy, exhausted, back into his chair. A moment +of awful silence succeeded. Then he gathered up his illuminated scrolls, +rose from his chair, bowed gravely, and left the room, Mary Blanchet +hurried after him. + +Minola was perplexed, depressed, and remorseful. She thought there must +be something in the productions which made their author so much in +earnest, and she was afraid she had not seemed attentive enough, or that +Blanchet had detected her in her early inclination to smile. There was +an embarrassed pause when Victor and she were left together. + +"He reads very well," Heron said at last. "A capital reader, I think. +Don't you? He throws his soul into it. That's the great thing." + +"It is," said Minola, "if it's much to throw--oh, I don't know what I +mean by that. But how do you like the poems?" + +"Well, I am sure they must be very fine. I should rather hear the +judgment of some one else. I should like to hear you speak first. You +tell me what you think of them and then I'll tell you, as the children +say." + +"I don't care about them," said Minola, shaking her head sadly. "I have +tried, Mr. Heron; but I can't admire them. I can't see any originality, +or poetry, or anything in them. I could not admire them--unless a +command came express from the Queen to tell me to think them good." + +"So you read the 'Misanthrope'--Moliere's 'Misanthrope?'" Victor said +eagerly, and having caught in a moment Minola's whimsical allusion to +the duty of a loyal critic when under royal command. + +"Yes, I used to pass half my time reading it; I have almost grown into +thinking that I have a sort of copyright in it. Alceste is my chief +hero, Mr. Heron." + +"I wish I were like him," said Mr. Heron. + +"I wish you were," she answered gravely. + +"But I am not--unfortunately." + +"Unfortunately," she repeated, determined to pay no compliment. + +"You must let me come some day and have a long talk with you about +Moliere," Victor said, nothing discouraged, having wanted no compliment, +nor thought of any. + +"I shall be delighted; you shall talk and I will listen. I am so glad to +find a companion in Moliere. But I wish I could have admired Mr. +Blanchet's poems. I prefer my own ever so much." + +"Your own!" The audacious self-complacency of the announcement +astonished him, and seemed out of keeping with Miss Grey's character and +ways. Do you write poems?" + +"Oh, no; if I did, I don't think I could admire them." + +"But how then--what do you mean?" + +"Well--one can feel such poetry in every blink of sunshine even in this +West Centre, and every breath of wind, and every stray recollection of +some great book that one has read, when we were young, you know. That +poetry never is brought to the awful test of being written down and read +out. I do so feel for Mr. Blanchet; I suppose his poems seemed glorious +before they were written out." + +"But I think they seem glorious to him even still." + +"They do--and to Mary. Mr. Heron, tell me honestly and without +affectation--are you really a judge of poetry?" + +"Not I," said Heron. "I adore a few old poets and one or two new ones, +but I couldn't tell why--and those that I admire everybody else admires +too, so that I can't pretend to myself that I have any original +judgment. My opinion, Miss Grey, isn't worth a rush." + +"I am very glad to hear it--very. Neither is mine. So you see we may be +both of us quite mistaken about Mr. Blanchet's poems." + +"Of course we may--I dare say we are; in fact I am quite sure we are," +said Heron, growing enthusiastic. + +"Anyhow it is possible. Now I have been thinking----" + +"Yes, you have been thinking?" + +"I don't know whether I am only going to prove myself a busybody; but I +am so fond of Mary Blanchet." + +"Yes: quite right; so am I--I mean I like her very much. But what do you +think of doing?" + +"Well, if one could do anything to get these poems published, or brought +out in some way--if it could be done without Mr. Blanchet's knowledge, +or if he could be got to approve of it, and was not too proud." + +"All that I have been thinking of already," Victor said. "I do think +it's a shame that a fellow shouldn't have a chance of fighting his +battle for the want of a few wretched pounds." + +"How glad I am now that I spoke of this to you! Then if I get up a +little plot, you'll help me in it." + +"I'll do everything--delighted." + +"But first you must understand me. This is for my dear old friend, Mary +Blanchet--not for Mr. Blanchet; I don't particularly care about him, in +that sort of way, and I fancy that men generally can take care of +themselves; but I can't bear to have Mary Blanchet disappointed, and +that is why I want to do something. Now will you help me? I mean will +you help me in my way?" + +"I will help in anyway you like, so long as I am allowed to help at all. +But I don't quite understand what you mean." + +"Don't you? I wish you did without being told so very, very clearly. +Well, my Mary Blanchet is proud; and though she might accept for her +brother a helping hand from me, it would be quite a different thing +where a stranger was concerned. In plain English, Mr. Heron, whatever +money is to be paid must be paid by me; or there shall be no plot. Now +you understand." + +"Yes, certainly; I quite understand your feelings. I should have +liked----" + +"No doubt; but there are so many things one could have liked. The thing +is now, will you help me--on my conditions?" + +"Of course I will; but what help can I give, as you have ordered +things?" + +"There are ever so many things to do which I couldn't do, and shouldn't +even know how to go about: seeing publishers and printers, and all that +kind of work." + +"All that I'll do with pleasure; and I am only sorry that you limit me +to that. May I ask, Miss Grey, how old are you?" + +"What on earth has that to do with the matter? Shall you have to give +the publishers a certificate of my birth?" + +"No, it's not for that. But you seem to me a very young woman, and yet +you order people and things as if you were a matron." + +Minola smiled and colored a little. "I have lived an odd and lonely sort +of life," she said, "and never learned manners; perhaps that is the +reason. If I don't please you, Mr. Heron--frankly, I shan't try." + +There was something at once constrained and sharp in her manner, such as +Heron had not observed before. She seemed changed somehow as she spoke +these unpropitiatory words. + +"Oh, you do please me," he said; "sincere people always please me. +Remember that I too admire the 'Misanthrope.'" + +"Yes, very well; I am glad that you agree to my terms--and we are +fellow-conspirators?" + +"We are--and----" + +"Stop! Here comes Mary." + +Mary Blanchet came back. Her face had a curiously deprecating +expression. She herself had been filled with wonder and delight by the +reading of her brother's poems; but she had known Minola long enough to +be as sensitive to her moods and half-implied meanings as the dog who +catches from one glance at his master's face the knowledge of whether +the master is or is not in a temper suited for play. Mary had done her +very best to reassure her brother; but she had not herself felt quite +satisfied about Minola's admiration. + +"Well?" Mary said, looking beseechingly at Minola, and then appealingly +at Victor, as if to ask whether he would not come to the rescue. "Well?" + +"We have been talking," Minola said, with a resolute effort--"we have +been talking--Mr. Heron and I--about your brother's poems, Mary; and we +think that the public ought to have a chance of judging of them." + +"Oh, thank you!" Mary exclaimed, and she clasped her hands fervently. + +"Yes, Mr. Heron says he is clear about that." + +"I was sure Mr. Heron would be," said Mary with becoming pride in her +brother. She was not eager to ask any more questions, for she felt +convinced that when Minola Grey said the poems ought to go before the +public, they would somehow go; and she saw fame for her brother in the +near distance. She thought she saw something else, too, as well as fame. +The interest which Minola took in Herbert's poems must surely betoken +some interest in Herbert himself. She knew well enough, too, that there +is nothing which so disposes some women to love men as the knowledge +that they are serving and helping the men. This subject of love the +little poetess had long and quaintly studied. She had followed it +through no end of poems and romances, and lain awake through long hours +of many nights considering it. She had subjected it to severe analysis, +bringing to the aid of the analyzing process that gift of imagination +which it is rarely permitted to the hard scientific inquirer to employ +to any purpose. She had pictured herself as the object of all manner of +wooings, under every conceivable variety of circumstances. Love by +surprise; love by the slow degrees of steady growth; love pressed upon +her by ardent youth; gravely tendered by a dignified maturity which, +until her coming, had never known such passion; love bending down to her +from a castle, looking up to her from the cottage of the peasant--love +in every form had tried her in fancy, and she had pleased and vexed +herself into conjuring up its various effects upon her susceptibility. +But the general result of the poetess's self-examination was to show +that the love which would most keenly touch her heart would be that +which was born of passion and compassion united. He, that is to say, +whom she had helped and patronized, and saved, would be the man she best +could love. Perhaps Mary Blanchet's years had something to do with this +turn of feeling. The unused emotions of the maternal went, in her +breast, to blend with and make up the equally unsatisfied sentiments of +love; and her vague idea of a lover was that of somebody who should be +husband and child in one. + +Anyhow the result of all this, in the present instance, was that Mary +felt a sudden and strong conviction that to allow Minola Grey to do +Herbert a kindly service was a grand thing gained toward inducing Minola +to fall in love with him. + +So the three conspirators fell to making their arrangements. The parts +were easily divided. Mr. Heron was to undertake the business of the +affair, to see publishers, and printers, and so forth; Mary Blanchet was +to undertake, or at least endeavor, to obtain the consent of her +brother, whose proud spirit might perhaps revolt against such patronage, +even from friendly hands. Miss Grey was to bear the cost. It was soon a +very gratifying thing to the conspirators to know that no objection +whatever was likely to come from Mr. Blanchet. The poet accepted the +proffered favor not only with readiness, but with joy, and was +particularly delighted and flattered when he learned from Mary--what +Mary was specially ordered not to tell him--that Miss Grey was his +lady-patroness. He was to have been allowed vaguely to understand that +friends and admirers--whose name might have been legion--were combined +to secure justice for him. But Mary, in the pride of her heart, told him +all the truth, and her brother was greatly pleased and very proud. The +only stipulation he made was that the poems should be brought out in a +certain style, with such paper, such margins, such binding, and so on; +according to the pattern of another poet's works, whereof he was to +furnish a copy. + +"She will be rich one day, Mary," he said, "and she can afford to do +something for art." + +"Will she be rich?" Mary asked, eagerly. "Oh, I am so glad! She ought to +be a princess; she should be, if I were a queen." + +"Yes, she'll be rich--what you and I would call rich," he said +carelessly. "Everything is to be hers when the stepmother dies; and I +believe she is in a galloping consumption." + +"How do you know, Herbert?" + +"You asked me to inquire, you know," he said, "and I did inquire. It was +easily done. Her father left his money and things to his second wife +only for her life. When she dies everything comes to your friend; and I +hear the woman can't live long. Keep all that to yourself, Mary." + +"I am sure Minola doesn't know anything about it. I know she never asked +nor thought of it." + +"Very likely, and the old people would not tell her. But it's true for +all that. So you see, Mary, we can afford to have justice done to these +poems of mine. If they are stones of any value, let them be put in +proper setting or not set at all. I am entitled to ask that much." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +"LOVE, THE MESSENGER OF DEATH." + + +Victor Heron seemed to Minola about this time in a fair way to let his +great grievance go by altogether. He was filled with it personally when +he had time to think about it, but the grievances of somebody else were +always coming across his path, and drawing away his attention from his +own affairs. Minola very soon noticed this peculiarity in him, and at +first could hardly believe in its genuineness; it so conflicted with all +her accepted theories about the ingrained selfishness of man. But by +watching and studying his ways, which she did with some interest, she +found that he really had that unusual weakness; and she was partly +amused and partly annoyed by it. She felt angry with him now and then +for neglecting his own task, like another Hylas, to pick up every little +blossom of alien grievance flung in his way. She pressed on him with an +earnestness which their growing friendship seemed to warrant the +necessity of his doing something to set his cause right, or ceasing to +tell himself that he had a cause which called for justice. + +It would not be easy to find a more singular friendship than that which +was growing up between Miss Grey and Victor. She received him whenever +he chose to come and see her. Many a night, when Mary Blanchet and she +sat together, he would look in upon them as he went to some +dinner-party, or even as he came home from one, if he had got away +early, and have a few minutes' talk with them. He came often in the +afternoon, and if Minola did not happen to be at home, he would +nevertheless remain and have a long chat with Mary Blanchet. He seemed +always in good humor with himself and everybody else, except in so far +as his grievance was concerned, and always perfectly happy. It has been +already shown that although quite a young man, he considered himself, by +virtue of his experience and his public career, ever so much older than +Minola. Once or twice he sent a throb of keen delight through Mary +Blanchet's heart by speaking of something that "I can remember, Miss +Blanchet, and perhaps you may remember it--but Miss Grey couldn't of +course." To be put on anything like equal ground with him as to years +was a delightful experience to the poetess. It was all the more +delicious because there was such an evident genuineness in his +suggestion. Of course, if he had meant to pay her a compliment--such as +a foolish person might be pleased with, but not she, thank goodness--he +would have pretended to think her as young as Minola. But he had done +nothing of the kind; and he evidently thought that she was about the +same age as himself. + +At all events, and it was more to the purpose, he set down Miss Grey as +belonging to quite a different stage of growth from that to which he had +attained. He thought her a handsome and very clever girl, who had the +additional advantage over most other girls that she was rather tall, and +that he therefore was not compelled to stoop much when speaking to her. +He liked women and girls generally. He hardly ever saw the woman or girl +he did not like. If he knew that a woman was insincere or affected, he +would not have liked her; but then he never knew it; he never saw it; it +never occurred to him. Anybody could have seen that he was a man who had +no sisters or girl-cousins. The most innocent and natural affectations +of womanhood were too deep for him to see. There really was a great deal +of truth in what he had said to Minola about his goddess theory as +regarded women. He made no secret about his greatly admiring +her--thinking her very clever and fresh and handsome. He would without +any hesitation have told her that he liked her best of all the women he +knew, but then he had often told her that he liked other women very +much. He seemed, therefore, the man whom a pure and fearless woman, even +though living in Minola's odd condition of semi-isolation, might frankly +accept as a friend without the slightest fear for the tranquillity of +his heart or of hers. Minola, too, had always in her own breast resented +with anger and contempt the idea that a man and woman can never be +brought together and allowed to walk in the beaten way of friendship +without their forthwith wandering off into the thickets and thorny +places of love. All such ideas she looked upon as imbecility, and +scorned. "I don't like men," she used to say to herself and even to +others pretty freely. "I never saw a man fit to hold a candle to my +Alceste. I never saw the man who seemed to me worth a woman's troubling +her heart about." She began to say this of late more than ever--and to +say it to herself, especially when the day and the evening had closed +and she was alone in her own room. She said it over almost as if it were +a sort of charm. + +The business of the poems now gave him many occasions to call, and one +particular afternoon Victor called when, by a rare chance, Mary Blanchet +happened to be out of doors. Minola had had it on her mind that he was +not pushing his cause very earnestly, and was glad of the opportunity of +telling him so. He listened with great good humor. It is nearly as +agreeable to be lectured as to be praised by a handsome young woman who +is unaffectedly interested in one's welfare. + +"I shall lose my good opinion of you if you don't keep more steadily to +your purpose." + +"But I do keep steadily to it. I am always thinking of it." + +"No; you allow anything and everything to interfere with you. Anybody's +affairs seem more to you than your own." + +Victor shook his head. + +"That isn't the reason," he said. "I wish it were, or anything half so +good. No; the truth is that I get ashamed of the cursed work of trying +to interest people in my affairs who don't want to take any interest in +them. I am a restless sort of person and must be doing something, and my +own business is now in that awful stage when there is nothing practical +or active to be done with it. I find it easier to get up an appearance +of prodigious activity about some other person's affairs. And then, Miss +Grey, I don't mind confessing that I am rather sensitive and +morbid--egotistic, I suppose--and if any one looks coldly on me when I +endeavor to interest him in my own affairs, I take it to heart more than +if it were the business of somebody else I had in hand." + +"But you talked at one time of appealing to the public. Why don't you do +that?" + +"Get people to bring my case on in the House of Commons?" + +"Yes; why not?" + +"It looks like being patronized and protected and made a client of." + +"Well, why don't you try and get the chance of doing it yourself?" + +He smiled. + +"I still do hold to that idea--or that dream. I should like it very much +if one only had a chance. But no chance seems to turn up; and one loses +heart sometimes." + +"Oh, no," Minola said earnestly, "don't do that." + +"Don't do what?" + +He had hardly been thinking of his own words, and he seemed a little +surprised at the earnestness of her tone. + +"Don't lose heart. Don't give way. Don't fall into the track of the +commonplace, and become like every one else. Keep to your purpose, Mr. +Heron, and don't be beaten out of it." + +"No; I haven't the least idea of that, I can assure you. Quite the +contrary. But it is so hard to get a chance, or to do anything all at +once. Everything moves so slowly in England. But I have a plan--we are +doing something." + +"I am very glad. You seem to me to be doing nothing for yourself." + +"Do I? I can assure you I am much less Quixotic than you imagine. Now, I +am so glad to hear that you still like the Parliamentary scheme, because +that is the idea that I have particularly at heart; and if the idea +comes to anything, there are some reasons why you should take a special +interest in it." + +"Are there really? May I be told what they are?" + +"Well, the whole thing is only in prospect and uncertainty just yet. The +idea is Money's, not mine; he has found out that there is going to be a +vacancy in a certain borough," and Victor smiled and looked at her, +"before long; and his idea is that I should become a candidate, and tell +the people my whole story right out, and ask them to give me a chance of +defending myself in the House. But the thing is not yet in shape enough +to talk much about it. Only I thought you would be glad to know that I +haven't thrown up the sponge all at once." + +Minola did not very clearly follow all that he had been saying; partly +because she was beginning to be afraid that to put herself into the +position of adviser and confidante to this young man was a scarcely +becoming performance on her part. Her mind was a little perturbed, and +she was not a very good listener then. Some people say that women seldom +are good listeners; that while they are playing the part of audience +they are still thinking how they look as performers. Anyhow, Minola was +now growing anxious to escape from her position. + +"I am so glad," she said vaguely, "that you are doing something, and +that you don't mean to allow yourself to be beaten." + +"I don't mean to be, I assure you," he said, a little surprised at her +sudden coolness. "I shouldn't like to be. That isn't my way, I hope." + +"I hope not too, and I think not; I wish I had such a purpose. Life +seems to me such a pitiful thing--and in a man especially--when there is +no great clear purpose in it." + +"But is a man's trying to get himself a new appointment a great clear +purpose?" he asked with a smile. He was now trying to draw her out again +on the subject, having been much pleased with the interest she seemed to +take in him, and a little amused by the gravity with which she tendered +her advice. + +"No, but yours is not merely trying to get an appointment. You are +trying to have justice done to your past career and to get an +opportunity of being useful again in the same sort of way. You don't +want to lead an idle life lounging about London. Mr. Blanchet has his +poems; Mr. Money has--well, he has his business, whatever it is, and he +is in Parliament." + +At this moment the servant entered and handed a card to Minola. A +gentleman, she said, particularly wished to see Miss Grey, but he would +call any time she pleased to name if she could not see him at present. +Minola's cheek grew red as she glanced at the card, for it bore the name +of Mr. Augustus Sheppard, and it had the words pencilled on it, "Wishes +particularly to see you--has important business." Her lips trembled. +Nothing could be more embarrassing and painful than such a visitation. +The disagreeable memory of Mr. Sheppard and of the part of her life to +which he belonged had been banished from her thoughts, at least except +for occasional returning glimpses, and now here was Mr. Sheppard himself +in London and asserting a right to see her. She could not refuse him, +for he did, perhaps, come to her with some message from those in Keeton +who still would have called themselves her family. Mary Blanchet had +only just gone out, and Minola was left to talk with Mr. Sheppard alone. +For a moment she had a wild idea of begging Victor Heron to stay and +bear her company during the interview. But she put this thought away +instantly, and made up her mind that she had better hear what Mr. +Sheppard had to say alone. + +"Show the gentleman in, Jane," she said, as composedly as she could. "A +friend--at least a friend of my people, from my old place, Mr. Heron." + +Heron was looking at her, she thought, in a manner that showed he had +noticed her embarrassment. + +"Well, I must wish you a good morning," Mr. Heron said. "Be sure I +shan't forget what you were saying." + +"Thank you--yes; what was I saying?" + +"Oh, the very good advice you were giving me; and I propose to hear it +all out another time. Good morning." + +"Don't go for a moment--pray don't?" she asked, with an earnestness +which surprised Victor. "Only a moment--I would rather you didn't go +just yet." + +The thought suddenly went through her that Mr. Sheppard was the very man +to put an exaggerated meaning on the slightest thing that seemed to hint +at secrecy of any kind, and that she had better take care to let him +see, face to face, what sort of visitor was with her when he came. +Victor was glad in any case of the chance of remaining a few moments +longer, and was in no particular hurry to go so long as he could think +he was not in anybody's way. + +Victor Heron stood, hat in hand, on the hearth-rug near the +chimney-piece. As Mr. Sheppard entered, Heron was the first person he +happened to see, and the entirely unexpected sight surprised him. He +glanced confusedly from Heron to Minola before he spoke a word, and his +manner, always stiff and formal, seemed to acquire in a moment an +additional incubus of constraint. Victor Heron had something about him +which did not seem exactly English, and which, to a provincial mind, +might well suggest the appearance of a foreigner--a Frenchman. Mr. +Sheppard had never felt quite satisfied in his own mind about that +mysterious rival of whom Minola spoke to him on the memorable day when +he saw her last. She had told him that her Alceste was only "a man who +lived in a book, Mr. Sheppard--in what you would call a play." How well +he remembered the very words she used, and the expression of contempt on +her lips as she used them. And he had got the book--the play--and read +it--toiled through it--and found that there was an Alceste in it. So far +she had told the truth, no doubt; but might not the Alceste have a +living embodiment, or might she not have found since that time a +supposed realization of her Alceste, and might not this be he--this +handsome, foreign-looking young man, who was lounging there as coolly +and easily as if the place belonged to him? For a moment an awful doubt +filled his mind. Could she be married? Was that her husband? + +"Miss Grey?" he said in hesitating and questioning tone, as that of one +who is not quite clear about the identity of the person he is +addressing; but Mr. Sheppard was only giving form unconsciously to the +doubt in his own mind, Are you still Miss Grey? + +The words and their tone were rather fortunate for Minola. They amused +her and seemed ridiculous, although she did not guess at Mr. Sheppard's +real meaning, and they enabled her to get back at once to her easy +contempt for him. + +"You must have forgotten my appearance very soon, Mr. Sheppard," she +said in a tone which carried the contempt so lightly and easily that he +probably did not perceive it, "or I must have changed very much, if you +are not quite certain whether I am Miss Grey. You have not changed at +all. I should have known you anywhere." + +"It is not that," Mr. Sheppard said with a little renewal of +cheerfulness. "I should have known you anywhere, Miss Grey. You have not +changed, except indeed that you have, if that were possible, improved. +Indeed, I would venture to say that you have decidedly improved." + +"Thank you: you are very kind." + +"It would be less surprising, if you, Miss Grey, had had some difficulty +in recognizing me. Fortune, perhaps, has withdrawn some of her blessings +from others only to pour them more lavishly on you." + +"I feel very well, thank you; but I hope fortune has not been robbing +any Peter to pay Paul in my case. You, at least, don't seem to have been +cheated out of any of your good health, Mr. Sheppard." + +While he made his little formal speeches Mr. Sheppard continued to +glance sidelong at Victor Heron. Mr. Heron now left his place at the +chimney-piece and came forward to take his leave. + +"Must you go?" Minola asked, with as easy a manner as she could assume. +She dreaded a _tete-a-tete_ with Sheppard, and she also dreaded to let +it be seen that she dreaded it. If Mary Blanchet would only come! + +An expedient occurred to her for putting off the dreaded conversation +yet a moment, and giving Mary Blanchet another chance. + +"I should like my friends to know each other," Minola said, with a +gayety of manner which was hardly in keeping with her natural ways. +"People are not introduced to each other now, I believe, when they meet +by chance in London, but we are none of us Londoners. Mr. Sheppard comes +from Keeton, Mr. Heron, and is one of the oldest friends of my family." + +Mr. Heron held out his hand with eyes of beaming friendliness. + +"Mr. Heron?" Sheppard asked slowly. "Mr. Victor Heron?" + +"Victor Heron, indeed!" + +"Mr. Victor Heron, formerly of the St. Xavier's Settlements?" + +Heron only nodded this time, finding Mr. Sheppard's manner not +agreeable. Minola wondered what her townsman was thinking of, and how he +came to know Heron's name and history. + +"Then my name must surely be known to you, Mr. Heron. The name of +Augustus Sheppard, of Duke's-Keeton?" + +"No, sir," Heron replied. "I am sorry to say that I don't remember to +have heard the name before." + +"Indeed," Mr. Sheppard said with a formal smile, intended to be +incredulous and yet not to seem too plainly so. "Yet we are rivals, Mr. +Heron." + +Minola started and colored. + +"At least we are to be," Mr. Sheppard went on--"if rumor in +Duke's-Keeton speaks the truth. I am not wrong in assuming that I have +the honor of addressing the future Radical--I mean Liberal--candidate +for that borough?" + +"Oh, that's it," Heron said carelessly. "Yes, yes: I didn't know that +rumor had yet troubled herself about the matter so much as to speak of +it truly or falsely. But of course, since you have heard it, Mr. +Sheppard, it's no secret. I have some ideas that way, Miss Grey. I +intend to try whether I can impress your townspeople. This gentleman, I +suppose, is on the other side." + +"I am the other side," Mr. Sheppard said gravely. "I am to be the +Conservative candidate--I was accepted by the party as the Conservative +candidate, no matter who the Radical may be." + +"Well, Mr. Sheppard, we shall not be the less good friends I hope," +Heron said cheerily. "I can't be expected to wish that the best man may +win, for that would be to wish failure for myself; but I wish the better +cause may win, and in that you will join me. Good morning, Miss Grey!" + +The room seemed to grow very chilly to Minola when his bright smile and +sweet courteous tones were withdrawn and she was left with her old +lover. + +There was not much in Sheppard's appearance to win her back to any +interest in him. He did not compare advantageously with Victor Heron. +When Heron left the room, the light seemed to have gone out; Heron was +so fresh, so free, so sweet, and yet so strong, full of youth, and +spirit, and manhood--a natural gentleman without the insipidity of the +manners of society. Poor Augustus Sheppard was formal, constrained, and +prosaic; he had not even the dignity of austerity. He was not +self-sufficing: he was only self-sufficient. As he stood there he was +awkward, and almost cowed. He seemed as if he were afraid of the girl, +and Minola was woman enough to be angry with him because he seemed +afraid of her. He was handsome, but in that commonplace sort of way +which in a woman's eye is often worse than being ugly. Minola felt +almost pitiless toward him, although the girl's whole nature was usually +full of pity, for, as has already been said, she did not believe in his +affection, and thought him a thorough sham. He stood awkwardly there, +and she would not relieve him from his embarrassment by saying a word. + +"Well, Miss Grey," he began at last, "I suppose you hardly expected to +see me." + +"I did not know you were in town, Mr. Sheppard." + +"I fear I am not very welcome," he said, with an uncomfortable smile; +"but your mother particularly wished me to see you." + +"My mother, Mr. Sheppard?" Minola grew red with pain and anger. + +"I mean your stepmother, of course--the wife of your father." + +"Once the wife of my father; now the wife of somebody else." + +"Well, well, at all events the person who might be naturally supposed to +have the best claim to some authority--or influence--influence let us +say--over you." + +"Has Mrs. Saulsbury sent you to say that she thinks she ought to have +some influence over me?" + +"Oh, no," he answered with that gentle deprecation of anger which is +usually such fuel to anger's fire. "Mrs. Saulsbury has given up any idea +of the kind long since--quite long since, I assure you. I think, if you +will permit me to say it, that you were always a little unjust in your +judgment of Mrs. Saulsbury. She is a true-hearted and excellent woman." + +Minola said nothing. Perhaps she felt that she never had been quite in a +position to do impartial justice to the excellence and the +true-heartedness of Mrs. Saulsbury. + +"But," Mr. Sheppard resumed, with a gentle motion of his hands, as if he +would wave away now all superfluous and hopeless controversy, "that was +not what I came to say." + +Minola bowed slightly to signify that she was glad to know he was coming +to the point at last. + +"Mrs. Saulsbury is in very weak health, Miss Grey; something wrong with +the lungs, I fear." + +Minola was not much impressed at first. It was one of Mrs. Saulsbury's +ways to cry "wolf" very often, as regarded the condition of her lungs, +and up to the time of Minola's leaving, people had not been in serious +expectation of the wolf's really putting his head in at the door. + +Mr. Sheppard saw in Minola's face what she did not say. + +"It is something really serious," he said. "Mr. Saulsbury knows it and +every one. You have not been in correspondence with them for some time, +Miss Grey." + +"No," said Miss Grey. "I wrote, and nobody answered my letter." + +"I am afraid it was regarded as--as----" + +"Undutiful perhaps?" + +"Well--unfriendly. But Mrs. Saulsbury now fears--or rather knows, for +she is too good a woman to fear--that the end is nigh, and she wishes to +be in fullest reconciliation with every one." + +"Oh, has she sent for me?" Minola said, with something like a cry, all +her coldness and formality vanishing with her contempt. "I'll go, Mr. +Sheppard--oh, yes, at once! I did not know--I never thought that she was +really in any danger." + +Poor Minola! With all her wild-bird freedom and her pride in her lonely +independence and her love of London, there yet remained in her that +instinct of home, that devotion to the principle of family and +authority, that she would have done homage at such a moment, and with +something like enthusiasm, to even such a simulacrum of the genius of +home as she had lately known. Something had passed through her mind that +very day as she talked with Heron, and feared she had talked too freely: +something that had made her think with vague pain of yearning on the +sweetness of a sheltered home. Her heart beat as she thought, "I will go +to her--I will go home; I will try to love her." + +Mr. Sheppard dispelled her enthusiasm. "Mrs. Saulsbury did not exactly +express a wish to see you." + +"Oh!" + +"In fact, when that was suggested to her--I am sure I need hardly say +that I at once suggested it--she thought, and perhaps wisely, that it +would be better you should not meet." + +Minola drew back, and stood as Mr. Heron had been standing near the +chimney-piece. She did not speak. + +"But Mrs. Saulsbury begged me to convey to you the assurance of her +entire and cordial forgiveness." + +Minola bowed gravely. + +"And her hope that you will be happy in life and be guided toward true +ends, and find that peace which it has been her privilege to find." + +Minola bore all this without a word. + +"What shall I say to her from you?" he asked. "Miss Grey, remember that +she is dying." + +The caution was not needed. + +"Say that I thank her," said Minola in a low, subdued tone. "Say that, +after what flourish your nature will, Mr. Sheppard. I suppose I was +wrong as much as she. I suppose it was often my fault that we did not +get on better. Say that I am deeply grieved to hear that she is so +dangerously ill, but that I hope--oh, so sincerely!--that she may yet +recover." + +Mr. Sheppard looked into her eyes with puzzled wonder. Was she speaking +in affected meekness, or in irony, as was her wont? Was the proud, +rebellious girl really so gentle and subdued? Could it be that she took +thus humbly Mrs. Saulsbury's pardon? Yes, it seemed all genuine. There +was no constraint on the lines of her lips; no scorn in her eyes. In +truth, the sympathetic and generous heart of the girl was touched to the +quick. The prospect of death sanctified the woman who had been so hard +to her, and turned her cold, self-complacent pardon into a blessing. If +the dying are often the most egotistic and self-complacent of all human +creatures, and are apt to make of their very condition a fresh title to +lord it for the moment over the living--as if none had ever died before, +and none would die after them, and therefore the world must pay special +attention and homage to them--if this is so, Minola did not then know it +or think about it. + +The one thing on earth which Mr. Sheppard most loved to see was woman +amenable to authority. He longed more passionately than ever to make +Minola his wife. + +"There is something else on which I should like to have your permission +to speak," he said; and his thin lips grew a little tremulous. "But I +could come another time, if you preferred." + +"I would rather you said now, Mr. Sheppard, whatever you wish to say to +me." + +"It is only the old story. Have you reconsidered your determination--you +remember that last day--in Keeton? I am still the same." + +"So am I, Mr. Sheppard." + +"But things have changed--many things; and you may want a home; and you +may grow tired of this kind of life--and I shan't be a person to be +ashamed of, Minola! I am going to be in Parliament, and you shall hear +me speak--and I know I shall get on. I have great patience. I succeed in +everything--I really do." + +She smiled sadly and shook her head. + +"In everything else I do assure you, so far--and I may even in that; I +must, for I have set my heart upon it." + +She turned to him with a glance of scorn and anger. But his face was so +full of genuine emotion, of anxiety and passion and pain, that its +handsome commonplace character became almost poetic. His lips were +quivering; and she could see drops of moisture on his shining forehead, +and his eyes were positively glittering as if in tears. + +"Don't speak harshly to me," he pleaded; "for I don't deserve it. I love +you with all my heart, and today more than ever--a thousand times +more--for you have shown yourself so generous and forgiving--and--and +like a Christian." + +Then for the first time the thought came, a conviction, into her +mind--"He really is sincere!" A great wave of new compassion swept away +all other emotions. + +"Mr. Sheppard," she said in softened tones, "I do ask of you not to say +any more of this. I couldn't love you even if I tried, and why should +you wish me to try? I am not worth all this--I tell you with all my +heart that I am not worth it, and that you would think so one day if I +were foolish enough to--to listen to you. Oh! indeed you are better +without me! I wish you every success and happiness. I don't want to +marry." + +"Once," he said, "you told me there was no one you cared for but a man +in a book. I wonder is that so now?" + +In spite of herself the color rushed into Minola's face. It was a lucky +question for her, however unlucky for him, because it recalled her from +her softer mood to natural anger. + +"You can believe me in love with any one you please to select in or out +of a book, Mr. Sheppard, so long as it gives you a reason for not +persecuting me with your own attentions. I like a man in a book better +than one out of it; it is so easy to close the book and be free of his +company when he grows disagreeable." + +She did not look particularly like a Christian then, probably, in his +eyes. He left her, his heart bursting with love and anger. When Mary +Blanchet returned she found Minola pale and haggard, her eyes wasted +with tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A MAN OF THE TIME. + + +Several days passed away, and Minola heard no more from Mr. Sheppard. +She continued in a state of much agitation; her nerves, highly strung, +were sharply jarred by the news of the approaching death of Mrs. +Saulsbury. It was almost like watching outside a door, and counting the +slow, painful hours of some lingering life within, while yet one may not +enter and look upon the pale face, and mingle with the friends or the +mourners, but is shut out and left to ask and wait; it was like this, +the time of suspense which Minola passed, not knowing whether the wife +of her father was alive or dead. As is the way of all generous natures, +it was now Minola's impulse to accuse and blame herself because there +had been so little of mutual forbearance in her old home at Keeton. She +kept wondering whether things might not have gone better, if she had +said and done this or that; or, if she had not said and done something +else. Full of this feeling, she wrote a long emotional letter to Mr. +Saulsbury, which, she begged of him to read to his wife, if she were in +a condition to hear it. The letter was suffused with generous penitence +and self-humiliation. It was a letter which perhaps no impartial person +could have read without becoming convinced that its writer must have +been in the right in most of the controversies of the past. + +The letter did not reach the eyes or ears for which it was particularly +intended. Minola received a coldly forgiving answer from Mr. +Saulsbury--forgiving her upon his own account, which was more than +Minola had sought--but adding, that he had not thought it desirable to +withdraw, for a moment, by the memory of earthly controversies, the mind +of his wife from the contemplation of that well-merited heaven which was +opening upon her. Great goodness has one other advantage in addition to +all the rest over unconverted error; it can, out of its own +beatification, find a means of rebuking those with whom it is not on +terms of friendship. The expected ascent of Mrs. Saulsbury into heaven +became another means of showing poor Minola her own unworthiness. Mr. +Saulsbury closed by saying that Mrs. Saulsbury might linger yet a +little, but that her apotheosis (this, however, was not his word) was +only a question of days. + +There was nothing left for Minola but to wait, and now accuse and now +try to justify herself. Many a time there came back to her mind the +three faces on the mausoleum in Keeton, the symbols of life, death, and +eternity; and she could not help wondering whether the mere passing +through the portal of death could all at once transfigure a cold, +narrow-minded, peevish, egotistical human creature into the soul of +lofty calmness and ineffable sweetness, all peace and love, which the +sculptor had set out in his illustration of humanity's closing state. + +Meantime, she kept generally at home, except for her familiar walks in +the park and her now less frequent visits to the British Museum and to +South Kensington. Lucy Money, surprised at her absence, hunted her up, +to use Lucy's own expression, and declared that she was looking pale +and wretched, and that she must come over to Victoria street, and pass +a day or two there, for companionship and change. Mary Blanchet, too, +pressed Minola to go; and at last she consented, not unwilling to be +taken forcibly out of her self-inquisition and her anxieties for the +moment. She had made no other acquaintances, and seemed resolute not to +make any, but there was always something peculiarly friendly and genial +to her in the atmosphere of the Moneys' home. The whole family had been +singularly kind to her, and their kindness was absolutely +disinterested. Minola could not but love Mrs. Money, and could not but +be a little amused by her; and there was something very pleasing to her +in Mr. Money's strong common sense and blunt originality. Minola liked, +too, the curious little peeps at odd groupings of human life which she +could obtain by sitting for a few hours in Mrs. Money's drawing-room. +All the _schwaermerei_ of letters, politics, art, and social life seemed +to illustrate itself "in little" there. + +Minola, when she accompanied Lucy to her home, was taken by the girl up +and down to this room and that to see various new things that had been +bought, and the two young women entered Mrs. Money's drawing-room a +little after the hour when she usually began to receive visitors. A +large lady, who spoke with a very deep voice, was seated in earnest +conversation with Mrs. Money. + +"This is my darling, sweet Lucy, I perceive," the lady said in tones of +soft rolling thunder as the young women came in. + +"Oh--Lady Limpenny!" + +"Come here, child, and embrace me! But this is not your sister? My sight +begins to fail me so terribly; we must expect it, Mrs. Money, at our +time of life." + +Lucy tossed her head at this, and could hardly be civil. She was always +putting in little protests, more or less distinctly expressed, against +Lady Limpenny's classification of Mrs. Money and herself as on the same +platform in the matter of age, and talking so openly of "their time of +life." In truth, Mrs. Money was still quite a young-looking woman, while +Lady Limpenny herself was a remarkably well-preserved and even handsome +matron; a little perhaps too full-blown, and who might at the worst have +sat fairly enough for a portrait of Hamlet's mother, according to the +popular dramatic rendering of Queen Gertrude. + +"No; this young lady is taller than Theresa. I can see that, although I +have forgotten my glass. I always forget or mislay my glass." + +"This is Miss Grey--Miss Minola Grey," said Mrs. Money. "Lady Limpenny, +allow me to introduce my dear young friend, Miss Minola Grey." + +"Dear child, what a sweet, pretty name! Now tell me, dearest, where did +your people find out that name? I should so like to know." + +"I think it was found in Shakespeare," Minola answered. "It was my +mother's choice, I believe." + +"A name in the family, no doubt. Some names run in families. I dare say +you have had a--what is it?--Minola in your family in every generation. +One cannot tell the origin of these things. I have often thought of +making a study of family names. Now my name--Laura. There never was a +generation of our family--we are the Atomleys--there never was a +generation of the Atomleys without a Laura. Now, how curious, in my +husband's family--Sir James Limpenny--in every generation one of the +girls was always called by the pet name of Chat. Up to the days of the +Conquest, I do believe--or is it the Confessor perhaps?--you would find +a Chat Limpenny." + +"There is a Chat Moss somewhere near Manchester," said Lucy saucily, +still not forgiving the remark about the time of life. "We crossed it +once in a railway." + +"Oh, but that has nothing to do with it, Lucy darling--nothing at all. I +am speaking of girls, you know--girls called by a pet name. I dare say +that name was in my husband's family--oh, long before the place you +speak of was ever discovered. But now, Miss Grey, do pray excuse me +again--such a very charming name--Minola! But pray do excuse me: may I +ask is that hair all your own? One is curious, you know, when one sees +such wonderful hair." + +"Yes, Lady Limpenny," Minola said imperturbably. "My hair is all my +own." + +"I should think Nola's hair was all her own indeed," Lucy struck in. "I +have seen her doing it a dozen times. Not likely that she would put on +false hair." + +"But, my sweet child, I do assure you that's nothing now," the +indomitable Lady Limpenny went on. "Almost everybody wears it now--it's +hardly any pretence any more. That's why I asked Miss Grey--because I +thought she perhaps wouldn't mind, seeing that we are only women, we +here. And it is such wonderful hair--and it is all her own!" + +"Yes," murmured Lucy, "all her own; and her teeth are her own too; and +even her eyes." + +"She has beautiful eyes indeed. You have, my dear," the good-natured +Lady Limpenny went on, having only caught the last part of Lucy's +interjected sentence. "But that does not surprise one--at least, I mean, +when we see lovely eyes, we don't fancy that the wearer of them has +bought them in a shop. But hair is very different--and that is why I +took the liberty of asking this young lady. But now, my darling Theresa +Money, may I ask again about your husband? Do you know that it was to +see him particularly I came to-day--not you. Yes indeed! But you are not +angry with me--I know you don't mind. I do so want to have his advice on +this very, very important matter." + +"Lucy, dear, will you ask your papa if he will come down for a few +moments--I know he will--to see Lady Limpenny?" + +Mr. Money's ways were well known to Lady Limpenny. He grumbled if +disturbed by a servant, unless there was the most satisfactory and +sufficient reason, but he would put up with a great deal of intrusion +from Lucelet. The very worst that could happen to Lucelet was to have +one of her pretty ears gently pulled. So Lucy went to disturb him +unabashed, although she knew he was always disposed to chaff Lady +Limpenny. + +"But you really don't mean to say that you are going to part with all +your china--with your uncle's wonderful china?" Mrs. Money asked with +eyes of almost tearful sympathy, resuming the talk which Minola's +entrance had disturbed. + +"My darling, yes! I must do it! It is unavoidable." + +Minola assumed that this was some story of sudden impoverishment, and +she could not help looking up at the lady with wondering and regretful +eyes, although not knowing whether she ought to have heard the remark, +or whether she was not a little in the way. + +Lady Limpenny caught the look. + +"This dear young lady is sympathetic, I know, and I am sure she loves +china, and can appreciate my sacrifice. But it ought not to be a +sacrifice. It is a duty--a sacred duty." + +"But is it?" Mrs. Money pleaded. + +"Dearest, yes! My soul was in danger. I was in danger every hour of +breaking the first Commandment! My china was becoming my idolatry! There +was a blue set which was coming between me and heaven. I was in danger +of going on my knees to it every day. I found that my whole heart was +becoming absorbed in it! One day it was borne in upon me; it came on me +like a flash. It was the day I had been to hear Christie and Manson----" + +"To hear what?" Mrs. Money asked in utter amazement. + +"Oh, what have I been saying? Christie and Manson! My dear, that only +shows you the turn one's wandering sinful thoughts will take! I mean, of +course, Moody and Sankey. What a shame to confuse such names!" + +"Oh, Moody and Sankey," Mrs. Money said again, becoming clear in her +mind. + +"Well, it flashed upon me there that I was in danger; and I saw where +the danger lay. Darling, I made up my mind that moment! When I came home +I rushed--positively rushed--into Sir James's study. 'James,' I said, +'don't remonstrate--pray don't. My mind is made up; I'll part with all +my china.'" + +"Dear me!" Mrs. Money gently observed. "And Sir James--what did he say?" + +"Well," Lady Limpenny went on, with an air of disappointment, "he only +said, 'All right,' or something of that kind. He was writing, and he +hardly looked up. He doesn't care." And she sighed. + +"But how good he is not to make any objection!" + +"Yes--oh, yes; he is the best of men. But he thinks I won't do it after +all." + +Mrs. Money smiled. + +"Now, Theresa Money, I wonder at you! I do really. Of course I know what +you are smiling at. You too believe I won't do it. Do you think I would +sacrifice my soul--deliberately sacrifice my soul--even for china? You, +dearest, might have known me better." + +"But would one sacrifice one's soul?" + +"Darling, with my temperament, yes! Alas, yes! I know it; and therefore +I am resolved. Oh, here is Mr. Money. But not alone!" + +Mr. Money entered the room, but not alone indeed, for there came with +him a very tall man, whom Minola did not know; and then, a little behind +them, Lucy Money and Victor Heron. Mr. Money spoke to Lady Limpenny, and +then, with his usual friendly warmth, to Minola; and then he presented +the new-comer, Mr. St. Paul, to his wife. + +Mr. St. Paul attracted Minola's attention from the first. He was very +tall, as has been said, but somewhat stooped in the shoulders. He had a +perfectly bloodless face, with keen, bold blue eyes; his square, rather +receding forehead showed deep horizontal lines when he talked as if he +were an old man; and he was nearly bald. His square chin and his full, +firm lips were bare of beard or moustache. He might at times have seemed +an elderly man, and yet one soon came to the conclusion that he was a +young man looking prematurely old. There was a curious hardihood about +him, which was not swagger, and which had little of carelessness, or at +all events of joyousness, about it. He was evidently what would be +called a gentleman, but the gentleman seemed somehow to have got mixed +up with the rowdy. Minola promptly decided that she did not like him. +She could hear Mr. St. Paul talking in a loud, rapid, and strident voice +to Mrs. Money, apparently telling her, offhand, of travel and adventure. + +Lady Limpenny had seized possession of Mr. Money, and was endeavoring to +get his advice about the sale of her china, and impress him with a sense +of the importance of saving her soul. Minola was near Mrs. Money, and +had just bowed to Victor Heron, when Mr. St. Paul turned his blue eyes +upon her. + +"This is your elder daughter, I presume," he said. "May I be introduced, +Mrs. Money? Your husband told me she was not so handsome as her sister, +but I really can't admit that." + +Mrs. Money was not certain for a moment whether her daughter Theresa +might not have come into the room; but when she saw that he was looking +at Miss Grey, she said, in her deep tone of melancholy kindness-- + +"No, this is not my daughter, Mr. St. Paul; and even with all a mother's +partiality, I have to own that Theresa is not nearly so handsome as this +young lady. Miss Grey, may I introduce Mr. St. Paul? Miss Grey comes +from Duke's-Keeton. Mr. St. Paul and you ought to be acquaintances." + +"Oh, you come from Duke's-Keeton, Miss Grey"; and he dropped Mrs. Money, +and drew himself a chair next to Minola. "So do I--I believe I was born +there. Do you like the old place?" + +"No; I don't think I like it." + +"Nor I; in fact I hate it. Do you live there now?" + +She explained that she had now left Keeton for good, and was living in +London. He laughed. + +"I left it for good long ago, or for bad. I have been about the world +for ever so many years; I've only just got back to town. I've been +hunting in Texas, and rearing cattle in Kansas--that sort of thing. I +left Keeton because I didn't get on with my people." + +Minola could not help smiling at what seemed the odd similarity in their +history. + +"You smile because you think it was no wonder they didn't get on with +me, I suppose? I left long ago--cut and run long before you were born. +My brother and I don't get on; never shall, I dare say. I am generally +considered to have disgraced the family. He's going back to Keeton, +where he hasn't been for years; and so am I, for a while. He's been +travelling in the East and living in Italy, and all that sort of thing, +while I've been hunting buffaloes and growing cattle out West." + +"Are you going to settle in Keeton now?" Miss Grey asked, for lack of +anything else to say. + +"Not I; oh, no! I don't suppose I could settle anywhere now. You can't, +I think, when you've got into the way of knocking about the world. I +don't know a soul down there now, I suppose. I'm going to Keeton now +chiefly to annoy my brother." And he laughed a laugh of half-cynical +good humor, and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. + +"A Christian purpose," Miss Grey said. + +"Yes, isn't it? We were always like that, I assure you; the elders and +the youngers never could hit off--always quarrelling. I'm one of the +youngers, though you wouldn't think so to look at me, Miss Grey? Do look +at me." + +Miss Grey looked at him very composedly. He gazed into her bright eyes +with undisguised admiration. + +"Well, I'm going to thwart my good brother in Keeton. He's coming home, +and going to do all his duties awfully regular and well, don't you know; +and first of all, he's going to have a regular, good, obedient +Conservative member--a warming-pan. Do you understand that sort of +thing? I believe the son of some honest poor-rate collector, or +something of that sort--a fellow named Sheppard. Did you ever hear of +any fellow in Keeton named Sheppard?--Jack Sheppard, I shouldn't +wonder." + +"I know Mr. Augustus Sheppard, and he is a very respectable man." + +"Deuce he is; but not a lively sort of man, I should think." + +"No; not exactly lively." + +"No; he wouldn't suit my brother if he was. Hope he isn't a friend of +yours? Well, we're going to oppose him for the fun of the thing. How +very glad my brother will be to see me. I am afraid I pass for a regular +scamp in the memories of you Keeton people. You must have heard of me, +Miss Grey. No? Before your time, I suppose. Besides, I didn't call +myself St. Paul then; I took on that name in America; it's my mother's +family name; that's how you wouldn't remember about me, even if you had +heard. You know the mausoleum in the park, I dare say?" + +"Very well indeed. It used to be a favorite place with me." + +"Ah, yes. My last offence was shooting off pistols there--aiming at the +heads over the entrance, you know. One of them will carry my mark to his +last day, I believe." + +"Yes; I remember noticing that the face of Death has a mark on it--a +small hole." + +He laughed again. + +"Just so. That's my mark. Poor father! It was the great whim of his life +to build that confounded thing, and he didn't enjoy it after all. My +brother, I am told, proposes to occupy part of it in good time. They +won't put me there, you may be sure." + +"Your brother is the Duke?" Minola said, a faint memory returning to her +about a wild youth of the family who had had to leave the army in some +disgrace, and went away somewhere beyond seas. + +"Yes; I thought I told you, or that Money had mentioned it. Yes; I was +the good-for-nothing of the family. You can't imagine, though, what a +number of good-for-nothings are doing well out Denver City way, out in +Colorado. When I was there, there were three fellows from the Guards, +and some fellows I knew at Eton, all growing cattle, and making money, +and hunting buffalo, and potting Indians, and making themselves +generally as happy as sandboys. I've made money myself, and might have +made a lot more, I dare say." + +Mr. St. Paul evidently delighted to hear himself talk. + +"It must be a very dangerous place to live in," Minola said, wishing he +would talk to somebody else. + +"Well, there's the chance of getting your hair raised by the Indians. Do +you know what that means--having your hair raised?" + +"I suppose being scalped." + +"Exactly. Well, that's a danger. But it isn't so much a danger if you +don't go about in gangs. That's the mistake fellows make; they think +it's the safe thing to do, but it isn't. Go about in parties of two, and +the Indians never will see you--never will notice you." + +Minola's eyes happened at this moment to meet those of Heron. + +"You know Heron?" + +"Oh, yes; very well." + +"A good fellow--very good fellow, though he has such odd philanthropic +fads about niggers and man and a brother, and all that sort of thing. +Got into a nice mess out there in St. Xavier's, didn't he?" + +"I heard that his conduct did him great honor," Minola said warmly. + +"Yes, yes--of course, yes; if you look at it in that sort of way. But +these black fellows, you know--it really isn't worth a man's while +bothering about them. They're just as well off in slavery as not--deuced +deal better, I think; I dare say some of their kings and chiefs think +they have a right to sell them if they like. I told Heron at the time I +wouldn't bother if I was he. Where's the use, you know?" + +"Were you there at the time?" Minola asked, with some curiosity. + +"Yes, I was there. I'd been in the Oregon country, and I met with an +accident, and got a fever, and all that; and I wanted a little rest and +a mild climate, you know; and I made for San Francisco, and some fellows +there told me to go to these Settlements of ours in the Pacific, and I +went. I saw a good deal of Heron--he was very hospitable and that, and +then this row came on. He behaved like a deuced young fool, and that's a +fact." + +"He was not understood," said Minola, "and he has been treated very +badly by the Government." + +"Of course he has. I told him they would treat him badly. They wouldn't +understand all his concern about black fellows--how could they +understand it? Why didn't he let it alone? The fellow who's out there +now--you won't find him bothering about such things, you bet--as we say +out West, if you will excuse such a rough expression, Miss Grey. But of +course Heron has been treated very badly, and we are going to run him +for Duke's-Keeton." + +Several visitors had now come in, and Mr. Heron contrived to change his +position and cross over to the part of the room where Minola was. + +"Look here, Heron," Mr. St. Paul said; "you have got a staunch ally here +already. Miss Grey means to wear your colors, I dare say--do they wear +colors at elections now in England?--I don't know--and you had better +canvass for her influence in Keeton. If I were an elector of Keeton, I'd +vote for the Pope or the Sultan if Miss Grey asked me." + +Meanwhile Lady Limpenny was pleading her cause with Mr. Money. It may be +said that Lady Limpenny was the wife of a physician who had been +knighted, and who had no children. Her husband was wholly absorbed in +his professional occupations, and never even thought of going anywhere +with his wife, or concerning himself about what she did. He knew the +Money women professionally, and except professionally, he could not be +said to know anybody. Lady Limpenny, therefore, indulged all her whims +freely. Her most abiding or most often recurring whim was an anxiety for +the salvation of her soul; but she had passionate flirtations meanwhile +with china, poetry, flowers, private theatricals, lady-helps, and other +pastimes and questions of the hour. + +"You'll never part with that china," Mr. Money said--"you know you +can't." + +"Oh, but my dear Money, you don't understand my feelings. You are not, +you know--an old friend may say so--you are not a religious man. You +have not been penetrated by what I call religion--not yet, I mean." + +"Not yet, certainly. Well, why don't you send to Christie and Manson's +at once?" + +"But, my dear Money, to part with my china in _that_ way--to have it +sent all about the world perhaps. Oh, no! I want to part with it to +some friend who will let me come and see it now and again." + +"Have you thought of this, Lady Limpenny? Suppose, when you have sold +it, you go to see it now and then, and covet it--covet your neighbor's +goods--perhaps long even to steal it. Where is the spiritual improvement +then?" + +"Money! You shock me! You horrify me! Could that be possible? Is there +such weakness in human nature?" + +"Quite possible, I assure you. You have been yourself describing the +influence of these unregulated likings. How do you know that they may +not get the better of you in another way? Take my advice, and keep your +china. It will do you less harm in your own possession than in that of +anybody else." + +"If I could think so, my dear Money." + +"Think it over, my dear Lady Limpenny; look at it from this point of +view, and let me know your decision--then we can talk about it again." + +Lady Limpenny relapsed for a while into reflection, with a doubtful and +melancholy expression upon her face. Money, however, had gained his +point, or, as he would himself have expressed it, "choked her off" for +the moment. + +"I don't like your new friend," said Minola to Victor. + +"My new friend? Who's he?" + +"Your friend Mr. St. Paul." + +"Oh, he isn't a new friend, or a friend at all. He is rather an old +acquaintance, if anything." + +"Well, I don't like him." + +"Nor I. Don't let yourself be drawn into much talk with him." + +"No? Then there _is_ somebody you don't like, Mr. Heron. That's a +healthy sign. I really thought you liked all men and all women, without +exception." + +"Well, I am not good at disliking people, but I don't like _him_, and I +didn't like to see him talking to you." + +"Indeed? Yet he is a political ally of yours and of Mr. Money now." + +"That's a different thing; and I don't know anything very bad of him, +only I had rather you didn't have too much to say to him. He's a +rowdy--that's all. If I had a sister, I shouldn't care to have him for +an acquaintance of hers." + +"Is it a vice to know him?" + +"Almost, for women," Heron said abruptly; and presently, having left +Minola, interposed, as if without thinking of it, between Lucy Money and +St. Paul, who was engaging her in conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A MIDNIGHT CONFIDENCE. + + +Mr. St. Paul stayed to dinner that day, being invited by Money without +ceremony, and accepting the invitation in the easiest way. Victor +Heron declined to remain. The family and Minola, with Mr. St. Paul, +made up the party. St. Paul was very attentive to Mrs. Money, who +appeared to be delighted with him. He talked all through the +dinner--he hardly ever stopped; he had an adventure in Texas, or in +Mexico, or in the South Sea Islands, _apropos_ of everything; he +seemed equally pleased whether his listeners believed or disbelieved +his stories, and he talked of his own affairs with a cool frankness, +as if he was satisfied that all the world must know everything about +him, and that he might as well speak bluntly out. He could not be +called cynical in manner, for cynicism presupposes a sort of +affectation, a defiance, or a deliberate _pose_ of some kind, and St. +Paul seemed absolutely without affectation--completely self-satisfied +and easy. Victor had spoken of him as "a rowdy--that's all." But that +was not all. He was--if such a phrase could be tolerated--a "gentleman +rowdy." His morals and his code of honor seemed to be those of a +Mexican horse-stealer, and yet anybody must have known that he was by +birth and early education an English gentleman. + +"I don't think I know a soul about town," he said. "I looked in at the +club once or twice--always kept up my subscription there during my worst +of times--and I didn't see a creature I could recollect. I dare say the +people who know my brother won't care to know me. I did leave such a +deuce of a reputation behind me; and they'll all be sure to think I +haven't got a red cent--a penny, I mean. There they are mistaken. +Somehow the money-making gift grows on you out West." + +"Why don't you settle down?" Money asked. "Get into Parliament, marry, +range yourself, and all that--make up with your brother and be all +right. You have plenty of time before you yet." + +"My good fellow, what do you call plenty of time? Look at me--I'm as +bald as if I were a judge." + +"Oh, bald! that's nothing. Everybody is bald nowadays." + +"But I'm thirty-five! Thirty-five--think of that, young ladies! a +grizzled, grim old fogey--what is it Thackeray says?--all girls know +Thackeray--who on earth would marry me? My brother and his wife have +given me such a shockingly bad character. Some of it I deserved, +perhaps; some of it I didn't. They think I have disgraced the family +name, I dare say. What did the family name do for me I should like to +know? Out in Texas we didn't care much about family names." + +"I entirely agree with your view of things, Mr. St. Paul," Mrs. Money +said in her soft melancholy tone. "England is destroyed by caste and +class. I honor a man of family who has the spirit to put away such +ideas." + +"Oh, it would be all well enough if one were the eldest brother, and had +the money, and all that. I should like to be the Duke, I dare say, well +enough. But I can't be that, and I've been very happy hunting buffaloes +for months together, and no one but an old Indian to speak to. I don't +disgrace the Duke's family name, for I've dropped it, nor any courtesy +title, for I don't use any. I believe they have forgotten me altogether +in Keeton. Miss Grey tells me so." + +"Excuse me," Minola said. "I didn't say that, for I didn't know. I only +said I didn't remember hearing of you by your present name; but I didn't +know any of the family at the Castle. We belonged to the townspeople, +and were not likely to have much acquaintance with the Castle." + +"Except at election time--I know," St. Paul said with a laugh. "Well, +I'm worse off now, for they won't know _me_ even at election time." + +Then the talk went off again under St. Paul's leadership, and almost by +his sole effort, to his adventurous life, and he told many stories of +fights with Indians, of vigilance committees, of men hanged for +horse-stealing, and of broken-down English scamps, who either got killed +or made their fortune out West. A cool contempt for human life was made +specially evident. "I like a place," the narrator more than once +observed, "where you can kill a man if you want to and no bother about +it." Perhaps still more evident was the contempt for every principle but +that of comradeship. + +After dinner Mr. St. Paul only showed himself in the drawing-room for a +moment or two, and then took his leave. + +"Papa," Lucy said instantly, "do tell us all about Mr. St. Paul." + +"Are you curious to know something about him, Miss Grey?" Money asked. + +"Well, he certainly seems to be an odd sort of person. He is so little +like what I should imagine a pirate of romance." + +"Not a bad hit. He is a sort of pirate out of date. But he represents, +with a little exaggeration, a certain tendency among younger sons +to-day. Some younger sons, you know, are going into trade; some are +working at the bar, or becoming professional journalists; some are +rearing sheep in Australia, and cattle in Kansas and Texas. It's a phase +of civilization worth observing, Miss Grey, to you who go in for being a +sort of little philosopher." + +"Dear papa, how can you say so? Nola does not go in for being anything +so dry and dreadful." + +"The tendencies of an aristocracy must always interest a thoughtful mind +like Miss Grey's, Lucy," Mrs. Money said gravely. "There is at least +something hopeful in the mingling of classes." + +"In young swells becoming drovers and rowdies?" Money observed. "Hum! +Well, as to that----" and he stopped. + +"I think I am a little interested in him," Minola said; "but only +personally, not philosophically." + +"Well, that's nearly all about him. He was a scamp, and he knocked about +the world, and settled, if that can be called settling, out West for a +while; and he has made money, and I hope he has sown his wild oats; and +he has come home for variety, and, I think, to annoy his brother. I met +him in Egypt, and I knew him in England too; and so he came to see me, +and he found a sort of old acquaintance in Heron. That's all. He's a +clever fellow, and not a bad fellow in his way. I dare say he would have +made a very decent follower of Drake or Raleigh if he had been born at +the right time." + +Minola's attention was drawn away somewhat from the character, +adventures, and philosophical interest of Mr. St. Paul to observe some +peculiarity in the manner of Lucy Money. Although Lucy had set out by +declaring herself wildly eager to know something about St. Paul, she +very soon dropped out of the conversation, and drew listlessly away. +After a while she sat at the piano, and began slowly playing some soft +and melancholy chords. Minola had been observing something of a change +in Lucy this present visit, something that she had not seen before. Mr. +Money presently went to his study; the women all dispersed, and Minola +sat in her bedroom, and wondered within herself whether anything was +disturbing Lucy's bright little mind. + +It was curious to note how Lucy Money's soft ways had won upon Minola. +Lucy twined herself round the affections of the stronger girl, and +clung to her. Mrs. Money was pleased, amused, and touched by the sight. +The calm Theresa was a little annoyed, considering Lucy to show thereby +a lack of the composure and dignity befitting a woman; and Mary +Blanchet was sometimes disposed to be jealous. Minola herself was +filled with affectionate kindness for the overgrown child, not +untempered with a dash of pity and wonder. She was sometimes inclined +to address the girl in certain lines from Joanna Baillie, forgotten now +even of most readers of poetry, and ask her, "Thou sweetest thing that +e'er didst fix its lightly-fibred spray on the rude rock, ah! wouldst +thou cling to _me_?" For whatever the outer world and its lookers-on +may have thought of her, it is certain that Minola did still believe +herself to be cold, unloving, hard to warm toward her fellow-beings. +The unrestrained, unaffected love of Lucy filled her at once with +surprise and a sweeter, softer feeling. + +So when she heard the patter of feet at her door she hardly had to wait +for the familiar tap and the familiar voice to know that Lucelet was +there. Minola opened the door, and Lucelet came in with her hair all +loosely around her, and her eyes sparkling. + +"May I sit a little and talk?" and without waiting for an answer she +coiled herself on the hearthrug near the chair on which Minola had been +sitting. "You sit there again, Nola. Are you glad to see me?" + +"Very, very glad, Lucy dear." + +"Do you love me, master? no?" For Minola had, among other things, been +teaching Lucy to read Shakespeare, and Lucy had just become enamored of +Ariel's tender question, and was delighted to turn it to her own +account. + +"Dearly, my delicate Ariel," said Minola, carrying on the quotation; and +Lucy positively crimsoned with a double delight, having her quotation +understood and answered, and an assurance of affection given. + +"Why don't you let down your hair, Nola? Do let me see it now completely +down. I'll do it--allow me." And she sprang up, came behind Minola, and +"undid" all her hair, so that it fell around her back and shoulders. +Minola could hardly keep from blushing to be thus made a picture of and +openly admired. "There, that is perfectly beautiful! You look like Lady +Godiva, or like the Fair One with Locks of Gold, if you prefer that. Did +you ever read the story of 'The Fair One with Locks of Gold,' when you +were a little girl? Oh, please leave your hair just as it is, and let me +look at it for awhile. Do you remember Lady Limpenny's nonsense to-day?" + +Minola allowed her to please herself, and they began to talk; but after +the first joy of coming in, Lucy seemed a little _distraite_, and not +quite like herself. She fell into little moments of silence every now +and then, and sometimes looked up into Minola's face as if she were +going to say something, and then stopped. + +Minola saw that her friend had something on her mind, but thought it +best not to ask her any questions, feeling sure that if Lucy had +anything she wished to say, Lucy would not keep it long unsaid. + +After a moment's pause, "Nola!" + +"Yes, dear." + +"You don't much like men in general?" + +"Well, Lucy dear, I don't know that anybody much likes men in general, +or women either. Good Christians say that they love all their brothers +and sisters, but I don't suppose it's with a very ardent love." + +"But you rather go in for not liking men as a rule, don't you?" + +Minola was a little amused by the words, "go in for not liking men." +They seemed to be what she knew Lucy never meant them for--a sort of +rebuke to the affectation which would formally pose itself as +misanthropic. Minola had of late begun to entertain doubts as to whether +a certain amount of half-conscious egotism and affectation did not +mingle in her old-time proclamations of a dislike to men. + +"I think I rather did go in for not liking men, Lucy; but I think I am +beginning to be a little penitent. Perhaps I was rather general in my +ideas; perhaps the men I knew best were not very fair specimens of the +human race; perhaps men in general don't very much care what I think of +them." + +"Any man would care if he knew you, especially if he saw you with your +hair down like that. But, anyhow, you don't dislike _all_ men?" + +"Oh, no, dear. How could I dislike your father, Lucelet?" + +"No," Lucy said, looking round with earnest eyes; "who could dislike +him, Nola? I am so fond of him; I could say almost anything to him. If +you knew what I have lately been talking to him about, you would wonder. +Well, but he is not the only man you don't dislike; I am sure you don't +dislike Mr. Heron." Her eyes grew more inquiring and eager than before. + +"No, indeed, Lucy; I don't think any one could dislike him either." + +"I am delighted to hear you say so; but I want you to say some more. +Tell me what you think of Mr. Heron; I am curious to know. You are so +much more clever than I, and you can understand people and see into +them. Tell me exactly what you see in Mr. Heron." + +"Why do you want to know all this, Lucy?" + +"Because I want to hear your opinion very particularly, for you are not +a hero-worshipper, and you don't admire men in general. Some girls are +such enthusiastic fools that they make a hero out of every good-looking +young man they meet. But you are not like that, Nola." + +"Oh, no! I am not like that," Nola echoed, not without a thought that +now, perhaps, there were moments when she almost wished she were. + +"Well, then, tell me. First, do you think Mr. Heron handsome?" + +"Yes, Lucy, I think he is handsome." + +"Then do you like him? Do tell me what you think of him." + +"In the name of heaven," Minola asked herself, "why should I not speak +the truth in answer to so plain and innocent a question?" She answered +quietly, and looking straightforward at the fire: + +"I like Mr. Heron very much, Lucy. I don't know many men--young men +especially--but I like him better than any young man I have met as yet." + +"As yet. Yes, yes. I am glad to hear you say that," Lucy said with +beaming eyes, and growing good-humoredly saucy in her very delight. "As +yet. Yes, you put that in well, Nola." + +"How so, dear?" + +"Oh, you know. Because of the one yet to present himself; the not +impossible He--nearly impossible though--who is to be fit for my Nola. I +tell you I shall scrutinize him before I allow his pretensions to pass. +Well, now, about Mr. Heron?" + +"I think him a very brave, generous, and noble-hearted young man. I +think he has not a selfish thought or a mean purpose about him, and I +think he has spirit and talent; and I hope one day to hear that he has +made himself an honorable name." + +Lucy turned now to Minola a pair of eyes that were moist with tears. + +"Tell me, Nola"--and her voice grew a little tremulous--"don't you think +he's a man a woman might fall in love with?" + +There was a moment's silence, and Lucy leaned upon Nola's knees, eagerly +looking into her face. Then Nola answered, in a quiet, measured +undertone, + +"Oh, yes, Lucy; I do indeed. I think he is a man a woman might fall in +love with." + +"Thank you, Nola. That is all I wanted to ask you." + +There was another pause. + +"Nola!" + +"Yes, Lucy." + +"You don't ask me anything." + +"Perhaps, dear, because there is nothing I want to know." + +"Then you _do_ guess?" + +"Oh, yes, dear, I do guess." + +"Well--but what?" + +"I suppose--that you are--engaged to Mr. Heron." + +Lucy started up with her face all on fire. + +"Oh, no, Nola, dear darling! you have guessed too much. I wish I had +told you, and not asked you to guess at all. We're not engaged. Oh, no. +It's only--well, it's only--it's only that I am in love with him, +Nola--oh, yes, so much in love with him that I should not like to live +if he didn't care about me--no, not one day!" Then Lucy hid her head in +Minola's lap and sobbed like a little child. + +Perhaps the breakdown was of service to both the girls. It allowed poor +Lucy to relieve her long pent-up feelings, and it gave Minola time to +consider the meaning of the revelation as composedly as she could, and +to think of what she ought to say and do. + +Lucy presently looked up, with a gleam of April brightness in her eyes. + +"Do you think me foolish, Nola, for telling you this?" + +"Well, dear, I don't know whether you ought to have told it to me." + +"I couldn't do without telling it to somebody, Nola. I think I must be +like that king I read about somewhere--I forget his name; no, I believe +it was not the king, but his servant--who had to tell the secret to some +listener, and so told it to the reeds on the seashore. If I had not told +this to somebody, I must have told it to the reeds." + +Minola almost wished she had told it to the reeds. There were reeds +enough beneath the little bridge which Nola loved in Regent's Park, and +had they been possessed of the secret she might have looked over the +bridge for ever, and dreamed dreams as the lazy water flowed on beneath, +and even noted and admired the whispering reeds, and they would never +have whispered that secret to her. + +"I think papa guesses it," Lucy said. "I am sure he does, because he +talked to me of--oh, well, of a different person, and asked me if I +cared about him, and I told him that I didn't. He said he was glad, for +he didn't much like him; but that I should marry any one I liked--always +provided, Nola, that he happened to like me, which doesn't at all +follow. I know papa likes Mr. Heron." + +"Then, Lucy, would it not be better to tell Mr. Money?" + +"Oh, Nola! I couldn't tell him that--I could tell him almost anything, +but I couldn't tell him that. Are you not sorry for me, Nola? Oh, say +you are sorry for me! The other day--it only seems the other day--I was +just as happy as a bird. Do say you are sorry for me." + +"But, my dear, I don't know why there should be any sorrow about it. Why +should not everything prove to be perfectly happy?" + +"Do you think so, Nola?" + +She looked up to Nola with an expression of childlike anxiety. + +"Why should it not be so, Lucy? If I were a man, I should be very much +in love with you, dear. You are the girl that men ought to be in love +with." + +There was a certain tone of coldness or constraint in Minola's voice +which could not escape even Lucy's observation. + +"You think me weak and foolish, I know very well, Nola, because I have +made such a confession as this. For all your kindness and your good +heart, I know that you despise any girl who allows herself to fall in +love with a man. You don't care about men, and you think we ought to +have more dignity, and not to prostrate ourselves before them; and you +are quite right. Only some of us can't help it." + +"No," said Minola sadly; "I suppose not." + +"There! You look all manner of contempt at me. I should like to have you +painted as the Queen of the Amazons--you would look splendid. But I may +trust to your friendly heart and your sympathy all the same, I know. You +will pity us weaker girls, and you won't be too hard on us. I want you +to help me." + +"Can I help you, Lucy? Shall I ask Mr. Heron if he is in love with you? +I will if you like." + +"Oh, Nola, what nonsense! That only shows how ridiculous you think me. +No, I only mean that you should give me your sympathy, and let me talk +to you. And--you observe things so well--just to use your eyes for my +sake. Oh, there is so much a friend may do! And he thinks so much of +you, and always talks to you so freely." + +Yes, Minola thought to herself; he always talks to me very freely--we +are good friends. If he were in love with Lucy, I dare say he would tell +me. Why should he not? She tells me that she is in love with him--that +is a proof of her friendship. + +We can think in irony as well as speak in it, and Minola was disposed at +present to be a little sarcastic. She did not love such disclosures as +Lucy had been making. There seemed to be a lack of that instinctive +delicacy in them, which, as she fancied, might be the possession of a +girl were she brought up naked in a south sea islet. Fresh and innocent +as Lucy was, yet this revelation seemed wanting in pure self-respect. +Perhaps, too, it was in keeping with Minola's old creed to believe that +this was just the sort of girl whom most men would be sure to love. At +any rate, she was for the moment in a somewhat bitter mood. Something of +this must have shown itself in her expression, for Lucy said, in a tone +of frightened remonstrance-- + +"Now, Nola, I have told you all. I have betrayed myself to you, and if +you only despise me and feel angry with me, oh, what shall I do? Isn't +it strange--you both came the same day here--you and he, for the first +time--I mean the first time since I saw you at school. Am I to lose you +too?" + +There was something so simple and helpless in this piteous appeal, with +its implied dread of a love proving hopeless, that no irony or anger +could have prevailed against it in Minola's breast. She threw her arm +round the child's neck and petted and soothed her. + +"Why should you lose both--why should you lose either?" Minola said. "I +can promise you for one, Lucy dear; and if I could promise you for the +other too, you might be sure of him. He must be a very insensible +person, Lucy, who fails to appreciate you. Only don't make it too plain, +dear, to any one but me. They say that men like to do the love-making +for themselves--and you have not the slightest need to go out of your +way. Tell me--does he know anything of this?" + +"Oh, no, Nola." + +"Nor guess anything at all?" + +"Oh, no--I am sure not--I don't think so. You didn't guess +anything--now, did you?--and how could he?" + +Minola felt a little glad to hear of this--for the dignity of womanhood, +she said to herself. But she did not know how long it would last, for +Lucy was not a person likely to accomplish great efforts of +self-control, for the mere sake of the abstract dignity of womanhood. +For the moment, all Minola could do was to express full sympathy with +her friend, and at the same time to counsel her gently not to betray her +secret. Lucy went to her bedroom at last, much fluttering and quivering, +but also relieved and encouraged, and she fell asleep, for all her love +pains, long before Minola did. + +"She will be very happy," Minola sat thinking, when she was alone. "She +has a great deal already: a loving father, and mother, and sister; a +happy home, where she is sheltered against everything; a future all full +of brightness. He will love her--I suppose. She's very pretty, and +sweet, and obliging; and he is simple and manly, and would be drawn by +her pure, winning ways; and men like him are fond of women who don't +profess to be strong. Well, if I can help her, I will do so--it will be +something to see her completely happy, and him too." + +Whereupon, for no apparent reason, the tears sprang into Minola's eyes, +and she found a vain wish arising in her heart that she had never +renewed her acquaintance with Lucy Money, never been persuaded by Mary +Blanchet to visit her, never stood upon her threshold and met Victor +Heron there. + +"Why not wish at once that I had never been born?" she said, half +tearful, half scornful of her tears. "One thing is as easy now as the +other, and as useful, and not to have been born would have saved many +idle hours and much heartache." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A MORNING CONFIDENCE. + + +Minola rose next morning with a bewildering and oppressed sense of +disappointment and defeat. The whole of her scheme of life had broken +down. Her little bubble world had burst. All her plans of bold +independence and of contented life, of isolation from social trammels, +and freedom from woman's weaknesses, had broken down. She had always +thought scorn of those who said that women could not feel friendship for +men without danger of feeling love--and now, what was she but a cruel, +mocking evidence of the folly of her confidence? Alas, no romantic +schoolgirl could have fallen more suddenly into love than Minola had +done. There was but one man whom she had ever seen with whom she had +coveted a friendship, and she now knew, only too well, that in her +breast the friendship had already caught fire and blazed into love. +Where was Alceste now, and the Alceste standard by which she had +proposed to test all men and women, well convinced beforehand that she +would find them wanting? She could not even flatter herself that she had +been faithful to her faith, and that if she had succumbed at the very +outset, it was because the first comer actually proved to be an Alceste. +No, she could not cram this complacent conviction into her mind. Victor +Heron was a generous and noble-hearted young man, she felt assured; but +she had not fallen in love with him because of any assurance that he was +like the hero of her girlhood. She made no attempt to deceive herself in +this way. In her proud resentment of her weakness she even trampled upon +it with undeserved scorn. "I fell in love with him," she said to +herself, "just as the silliest girl falls in love--because he was there, +and I couldn't help it." + +It was not merely Lucy's revelation which had forced upon Minola a +knowledge of her own feelings. This had perhaps so sent conviction home +as to render illusion or self-deception impossible any longer, but it +was not that which first told her of her weakness. That had long been +more and more making itself known to her. It was plain to her now that +since the first day when she stood upon the bridge with him in the park, +and looked into the canal, she had loved him. "Oh, why did I not know it +then?" she asked wearily of herself. "I could have avoided him--have +never seen him again--and it might so have come to nothing, and at least +we should not have to meet." + +Amid all her pain of the night and the morning, one question was ever +repeating itself, "Will this last?" That the fever which burned her was +love--genuine love--the regular old love of the romances and the +poets--she could not doubt. She knew it because it was so new a +feeling. Had she walked among a fever-stricken population, refusing to +believe in the danger of infection, and satisfied that the fearless and +the wise were safe, and had she suddenly felt the strange pains and +unfamiliar heats, and found the senses beginning to wander, she would +have known that this was fever. The pangs of death are new to all alike +when they come, but those who are about to die are conscious--even in +their last moments of consciousness--that this new summons has the one +awful meaning. So did Minola know only too well what the meaning was of +this new pain. "Will it last?" was her cry to herself. "Shall I have to +go through life with this torture always to bear? Is it true that women +have to bear this for years and years--that some of them never get over +it? Oh, I shall never get over it--never, never!" she cried out in +bitterness. She was very bitter now against herself and fate. She did +not feel that it is better to love vainly than not at all. Indeed, such +consoling conviction belongs to the poet who philosophizes on love, or +to the disappointed lover who is already beginning to be consoled. It +does not do much good to any one in the actual hour of pain. Minola +cordially and passionately wished that she had not loved, or seen any +one whom she could love. She was full of wrath and scorn for herself, +and believed herself humbled and shamed. Her whole life was crossed; +her quiet was all gone; she was now doomed to an existence of perpetual +self-constraint and renunciation, and even deception. She had a secret +which she must conceal from the world as if it was a murder. She must +watch her words, her movements, her very glances, lest any sudden +utterance, or gesture, or blush should betray her. She would wake in +the night in terror, lest in some dream she might have called out some +word or name which had roused Mary Blanchet in the next room, and +betrayed her. She must meet Victor Heron, heaven knows how often, and +talk with him as a friend, and never let one gleam of the truth appear. +She must hear Lucy Money tell of her love, and be the _confidante_ of +her childlike emotions. Not often, perhaps, has a proud and sensitive +girl been tried so strangely. "I thought I hated men before," she kept +saying to herself. "I _do_ hate them now; and women and all. I hate him +most of all because I know that I so love him." + +All this poor Minola kept saying or thinking to herself that morning as +she listlessly dressed. It is not too much to say that the very air +seemed changed for her. She had only one resolve to sustain her, but +that was at least as strong as her love, or as death--the resolve that, +come what would, she must keep her secret. Victor Heron believed himself +her friend, and desired to be nothing more. No human soul but her own +must know that her feeling to him was not the same. She would have known +the need of that resolve even if she had never been entrusted with poor +dear little Lucy's secret. But the more calmly she thought over that +little story the more she thought it likely that Lucy's dream might come +to be fulfilled. + +The world--that is to say, the breakfast room and the Money family--had +to be faced. The family were as pleasant as ever, except Lucy, who +looked pale and troubled, and at whom her father looked once or twice +keenly, but without making any remark. + +"I have had a letter from Lady Limpenny already this morning," Mr. Money +observed. + +All professed an interest in the contents of the letter, even Theresa. + +Mr. Money began to read: + + "Thank you a thousand times, my dear Money----" + +"We are very friendly, you see, Miss Grey," he said, breaking off. "But +it's not any peculiar friendship for me. She always calls men by their +names after the first interview." + +"She generally addressed papa as 'my dear,' without any proper name +appended," said Lucy, who did not much like Lady Limpenny. "She always +likes the men of a family and always hates the women." + +"Lucy, my dear," her mother pleaded, "how can you say so? Laura Limpenny +and I are true friends." + +"She is giving us good help with our schools and our church," Theresa +Money said; "and Reginald" (Theresa's engaged lover) "thinks very highly +of her." + +"She always praises men, and they all think highly of her," Lucy +persisted; "and it is something to be Lady Anything." + +"I assure you, Miss Grey," Mrs. Money said, "that Lady Limpenny is the +most sincere and unpretending creature. She is not an aristocrat--she +has nothing to do with aristocracy; if she had, there could be little +sympathy, as you may well believe, between her and me, for you know my +convictions. The aristocracies of this country are its ruin! When +England falls--and the hour of her fall is near--it will not be due to +beings like Laura Limpenny." + +"There I agree with you, dear," Mr. Money gravely said. "Shall I go on?" + +He went on: + + "Thank you a thousand times, my dear Money, for your wise and + Christianlike advice. I will keep my china. I am convinced now that + my ideas of yesterday were wrong, and even sinful. I had a charming + talk with a dear aesthetic man last evening, after I saw you, and he + assures me that my china is a collection absolutely unique; and + that, if I were to part with it, Mrs. De Vallancey would manage, at + any cost, or by any contrivance, to get hold of it; and your darling + wife knows how I hate Mrs. De Vallancey. I now feel that it is my + duty to keep the china, and that a love for the treasures of art is + in itself an act of homage to the Great Creator of all. + + "My sweetest love to your darling wife and angel girls. Kind regards + to the young lady with the hair; and when you see our dear friend + Heron do tell him that I expect him to call on me _very soon_. + + "Ever yours, + + "LAURA LIMPENNY." + +"'Our dear friend Heron,'" exclaimed Lucy in surprise and anger. "Does +she know Mr. Heron so well as that?" + +"She met him here yesterday for the first time," Mr. Money said; "but +that's quite enough for Lady Limpenny. She has taken a violent liking to +him already, and enrolls him among her dear friends. Seriously, she +would be rather a useful person for Heron to know. She knows every one, +and will do anything. Her husband attends all the old women of quality, +and a good many of the young women too. I shouldn't be surprised if Sir +James Limpenny--or his wife--could get Heron a hearing from some great +personage." + +"I am sure he won't do that," said Lucy warmly. "I don't believe Mr. +Heron would condescend to be helped on in that sort of way." + +"Why not?" Minola asked. "I think Lady Limpenny is a more creditable +ally than a person like Mr. St. Paul. If a man wants to succeed in life, +I suppose he must try all the usual arts." + +"I didn't think you would have said that of Mr. Heron, Nola," said Lucy, +hurt and wondering. + +Nola did not think she would have said it herself twelve hours ago. Why +she said it now she could not tell. Perhaps she was womanish enough to +feel annoyed at the manner in which Lucy seemed to appropriate Victor +Heron's cause, and womanish enough too to relieve her mind by saying +disparaging things of him. + +Mr. Money's eyes twinkled with an amused smile. + +"See how you wrong a man sometimes, you ladies--even the most reasonable +among you. Heron is more Quixotic than you think, Miss Grey. I have had +a letter from him this very morning about St. Paul. I'll read it if you +like--it need not be kept secret from anybody here." + +Mrs. Money and Lucy earnestly asked to have the letter read, and Mr. +Money read it accordingly: + + "MY DEAR MONEY: I don't like St. Paul, and I won't march through + Coventry with him. I think he is unprincipled and discreditable, + and if I can't get in for Keeton without his helping hand, I'll + stay out of Keeton, and that's all about _that_. I know you will + agree with me when you think this over. Excuse haste and + abruptness. I want to make my position clear to you without any + loss of time. + + "Yours faithfully, + + "VICTOR HERON." + +"Now, Nola, you see you were wrong," the triumphant Lucy exclaimed. + +"I do not like Mr. St. Paul," the quiet Theresa observed. "He seems to +me godless and demoralized. He spake in the lightest and most scoffing +way of the labors of the Church among the heathen populations." + +"I liked him," Mrs. Money sighed. "I liked him because he had the spirit +to resign his rank and fling away his title." + +"I think his rank rather resigned him," Mr. Money observed. "Anyhow, one +must in the ordinary world consent to take up with a scamp now and then. +Heron says he won't have anything to do with St. Paul, and Lucy +undertakes to say for him that he won't be patronized by Lady Limpenny. +I ask you all calmly, as civilized and Christian beings, how is a young +fellow to get on in London who won't consent to be helped by scamps and +old women." + +"Mr. Heron represents a political cause," the eager Lucy began. + +Her father looked quietly round at her. + +"Why, Lucelet, my dear, when did you come to know anything about +political causes, or to care about them? I thought you only cared for +the renascence of art--isn't it renascence you call it? I understood +that politics were entirely beneath the notice of all your school. Pray +tell me, Mistress Politician, to which side of politics your father +belongs?" + +"Oh, papa, for shame! What nonsense! As if I didn't know. Of course you +are a Liberal--an advanced Liberal." + +"Good; and our friend Heron?" + +"An advanced Liberal too. Of course I know that you are on his side." + +"That I am on his side? That he is on my side wouldn't do, I suppose, +although I am somewhat the elder, and I am in Parliament while he is not +in, and is not particularly likely to be if he continues to be so +squeamish. What are the political views of our young friend the artist, +the poet, the bard, or whatever you please to call him?" + +"Mr. Blanchet?" Lucy slightly colored. + +"Mr. Blanchet, yes. Am I on his side?" + +"Oh, he has no side. He knows nothing of politics," Lucy said +contemptuously. + +"Stupid of him, isn't it?" + +"Very stupid. At least, I suppose so; I don't know. Oh, yes; I think +every man ought to understand politics." + +Mr. Money smiled, and let the subject drop. + +When breakfast was over, Mr. Money suddenly said, + +"Miss Grey, you always profess to know something about politics. Anyhow, +you know something about Keeton folks, and you can give me some useful +hints about their ways with which I can instruct our dear friend Heron, +as Lady Limpenny calls him. Would you mind coming to my study for a +quarter of an hour, away from all this womankind, and answering me a few +questions?" + +Minola was a little surprised, but showed no surprise, and only said +that she would be delighted, of course. Mr. Money offered her his arm +with a somewhat old-fashioned courtesy which contrasted not unbecomingly +with his usual cheery bluntness of manner to women and men alike. + +"Not many ladies come here, Miss Grey," Money said, offering her a chair +when they were in the study. "Lucelet looks in very often, to be sure, +but only as a messenger; she doesn't come into council." + +"Do I come into council?" Minola asked with a smile and a little of +heightened color. "I shall feel myself of great importance." + +"Well, yes, into council. First about yourself. I have been looking into +your affairs a little, Miss Grey--don't be angry; we are all fond of you +in this house, and you don't seem to have any one in particular to look +after your interests." + +"It was very kind and good of you. I have not many friends, Mr. Money; +but I am afraid the word 'interests' is rather too large for any affairs +of mine. Have I any interests? Mary Blanchet understands all my affairs +much better than I do." + +"Yes, they may be called interests, I think. You know that anybody who +likes can find out everything about people's wills, and all that. Do you +know anything about your father's will?" + +"No," Minola said, with a start, and feeling the tears coming to her +eyes. "I don't, Mr. Money. At least, not much. I know that he left me +some money--so much every year; not much--it would not be much for +Lucy--but enough for me and Mary Blanchet. Mary Blanchet manages it for +me, and makes it go twice as far as I could. We never spend it all--I +mean, we haven't spent it all this year. I should never be able to +manage or to get on at all only for her." + +Minola spoke with eagerness now, for she was afraid that she was about +to receive some of the advice which worldly people call wise, and to be +admonished of the improvidence of sharing her little purse with Mary +Blanchet. + +"And, indeed, I ought to do something for her--something particular," +she hastened to add, for she was seized with a sudden fear that Mr. +Money might have heard somewhere of her resolve to have Mr. Blanchet's +poems printed at her own expense, and might proceed to remonstrate with +her. + +Mr. Money smiled, seeing completely through her, and only thinking to +himself that she was a remarkably good girl, and that he much wished he +had a son to marry her. + +"Do you know what I was thinking of?" he asked bluntly. + +"I am sure you were thinking about me, for you laughed--at my ignorance +of business ways, I suppose?" + +"Not at all; I was thinking that I should like to have a son, and that I +should like you to marry him." + +Minola laughed and colored, but took his words as they were meant, in +all good humor and kindness. + +"If you had a son, Mr. Money, I am sure I would marry him if you asked +me, and he----" + +"Thank you. Well, I am only sorry I can't take you at your word. But +that wasn't exactly what I brought you here to tell you. What I want to +tell you is this. You are likely to have a good deal of property of one +kind and another, Miss Grey. Your father, I find, made a good deal of +money in his time, and saved it; bought houses and built houses; bought +up annuities, insurances, shares in companies--all manner of things. He +only left his property to his present wife for her use of what it brings +every year during her life. At her death it all comes to you, and I'm +told she can't live long." + +"Oh, but she may. I hope and pray that she may," Minola exclaimed. "It +seems shocking to watch for a woman's death, especially when we were not +very friendly to each other. I don't want the money; I have +enough--quite enough. I shouldn't know what to do with it. I don't care +much about new dresses, and bonnets, and the fashions, and all that; and +what could I do with money, living alone in my quiet way? I think a girl +of my age, living all to herself, and having much money, would be +perfectly ridiculous. Why could not her husband get it, if the poor +creature dies? That would be only right. I am sure he may have it for +me." + +"He mayn't have it for me though," Mr. Money said. "You have no one, it +seems to me, to look after your interests, and I'll take the liberty to +do so, for lack of a better, whether you like it or not. However, we can +talk about that when the time comes." + +Minola gave a sort of shudder. + +"When the time comes. That seems so dreadful; as if we were only waiting +for the poor woman to be dead to snatch at whatever she left behind her. +Mr. Money, is there really no other way? must I have this property?" + +"If she dies before you, yes--it will come to you. Of course you know +that it isn't great wealth in the London sense. It won't constitute you +an heiress in the Berkeley Square sense, but it will give you a good +deal of miscellaneous property for a young woman. Well, as to that, I'll +see that you get your rights; and the only thing I have to ask is just +that you will not do anything decided, or anything at all, in this +business, without consulting me." + +"Oh, indeed, I can faithfully promise you that. I have no other friend +whom I could possibly consult, or who would take any interest in me." + +"Come, now, I can't believe that. If you wish, you can be like the young +lady in Sheridan's song--friends in all the aged you'll meet, and lovers +in the young." + +"I don't want to be like her in that." + +"In having friends in all the aged?" + +"Oh, I don't know; in anything. I am well content with the friends I +have." + +"Well, some of them, at least, are well content with you. Now, Miss +Grey, I want to speak to you of something that concerns me. You and my +daughter Lucy are great friends?" + +Minola almost started. + +"I am very fond of Lucy." + +"And she is very fond of you. We all are for that matter. Did you ever +hear of an old Scottish saying about a person having a face like a +fiddle--not in shape, you know, but in power of attracting people, and +rousing sympathy?" + +"Yes. I think I remember it in some of Scott's novels." + +"Very well. I think you have a face like a fiddle; all our sympathies +are drawn to you. Now that is why I speak to you of something which I +wouldn't talk about to any other woman of your age--not even to my own +daughter Theresa, an excellent creature, but not over sympathetic. I +am very fond of my Lucelet. She isn't strong; she hasn't great +intelligence. I know my little goose is not a swan, but she is very +sweet, and sensitive, and loving: the most affectionate little creature +that ever was made happy or unhappy by a man. I am morbidly anxious +about her happiness. Now, you are her friend, and a thousand times +cleverer and stronger than she, and she looks up to you. She would tell +you anything. _Has_ she told you anything lately?" + +Minola hesitated. + +"Oh, you needn't hesitate, or think of any breach of confidence. You may +tell me. I could get it all from herself in a moment. It isn't about +that I want to ask you. Well, I'll save you all trouble. She has told +you something." + +"She has." + +"She is in love!" + +Minola assented. + +Mr. Money ran his hand through his hair, got up and walked a turn or two +up and down the study. + +"The other day she was a child, and cared for nobody in the world but +her mother and me! Now a young fellow comes along, and, like the Earl of +Lowgave's lassie in the old song, she does not love her mammy nor she +does not love her daddy." + +"Oh, but I don't think that at all," Miss Grey said earnestly. "No girl +could be fonder of her father and mother." + +Mr. Money smiled good-humoredly, but with a look of pity, as one who +corrects an odd mistake. + +"I know that very well, Miss Grey, and I was not speaking seriously, or +grumbling at my little lassie. But it does astonish us elderly parents, +when we find out all of a sudden that there are other persons more +important than we in the eyes of our little maidens, and we may as well +relieve our minds by putting the feeling into words. Well, you know the +hero of this little romance?" + +Minola was looking steadily at the fire, and away from Mr. Money. She +did not answer at once, and there was a pause. The suddenness of the +silence aroused her. + +"Oh, yes, Mr. Money. I know who he is," she said, without looking round. + +"Very well. Now comes the delicate part of my questioning. Of course you +can't be expected to read the secrets of other people's hearts, and I +suppose you are not in _his_ confidence." + +"No, indeed," she said very quietly. + +"No--you couldn't tell how he feels toward my Lucelet?" + +Minola shook her head. + +"If I were a man, I am sure I should be in love with her," she said. + +"You think so? Yes, perhaps so; but in this case, somehow----. Well, +Miss Grey, another question, and then I'll release you, and speak to me +frankly, like a true girl to a plain man, who treats her as such. Is +there any woman, as far as you know, who is more to him than Lucelet?" + +Mr. Money had now come near to where Minola was sitting. He stood +leaning against the chimney-piece, and looking fixedly into her face. At +first she did not even understand the meaning of his question. Then +suddenly she felt that her cheeks began to burn and her heart to beat. +She looked up in wonder and pain, but she saw so much of earnestness and +anxiety in Mr. Money's face that it would have been impossible not to +understand and respect his purpose. In his anxiety for his daughter's +happiness his whole soul was absorbed. Minola's heart forgot its own +pain for the moment. Her own memory of a father was not of one thus +unselfishly absorbed. She answered without hesitation, and with quiet +self-possession. + +"Oh, no, Mr. Money. I know of no such woman. So far as I can guess, none +such exists." + +Mr. Money drew a deep breath, and his eyes brightened. + +"Miss Grey," he said, "I think any other woman in the world would have +told me she wasn't in Mr.--in _his_ secrets, or given me some evasive +or petulant answer. I thank you a thousand times. We may then--I +may--pursue without compunction my matchmaking schemes. They are not +very selfish; they are only for Lucelet's happiness. I would ask one of +my office clerks to marry her if she loved him and he was likely to +make her happy; and I would set them up in life. You may guess, then, +whether this idea pleases me. But I confess I didn't think--well, of +course, your assurance is enough, but I began to think of something +different." + +Minola rose to go away. + +"One word, Miss Grey. Pray don't say anything to my wife about this. She +is the truest and kindest of women, as you know, but she can't +understand keeping anything a secret, and she always begs of us to leave +her out of the smallest plot of the most innocent kind, because she must +let it all out prematurely. Now I'll release you, and you have, at all +events, one friend in life to be going on with--friend among the aged I +mean; the rest will come fast enough." + +With a bewildered head and a bursting heart, Minola found her way to her +own room. + + + + +MOHEGAN-HUDSON. + + + Where the northern forest flings + Its shadows over weeping hills, + Rivulets rise in myriad springs + And run to meet in roaring kills. + Soon from these a great stream grows; + Grows--and grows more strong and free, + Till a noble river flows; + Flows majestic to the sea. + + Born of Adirondac tears, + Nursed by storms of Katterskill, + Yet a smiling face it wears, + Rolls in tranquil silence still. + Gliding first o'er sands of glass, + Then 'midst grassy meads estray, + Now it shoots the highland pass, + Hurrying southward on its way. + + River, but the sea as well; + Steady drift and changing tide; + Here may float a cockle-shell, + Or the ocean navies ride. + 'T is the sea in landscape set; + 'T is the sea, by limits bound; + But it is the river yet, + Flowing through enchanted ground. + + Countless wealth its currents bear, + Wrought from forest, field, and mine; + Giant steamships o'er it fare, + Clouds of sails in sunlight shine. + Through the darkness, as in light, + Sail the constant fleets the same; + While along the shores at night + Furnace fires perpetual flame. + + In the bright October days, + While I float upon the stream, + Mellowed by transfiguring haze, + All is like a fairy dream: + Groves and gardens, towns and towers, + Mountain tops and vales between, + As the gods had builded bowers + Scarce concealed and scarcely seen. + + Thine no borrowed glories! thine, + Matchless river! are thy own! + O'er thy scenes no false lights shine + From the ages dead and gone. + Round no castles' crumbling walls + Troops of knightly spectres throng, + And within no ruined halls + Thrills the spectre maiden's song; + + Save when dusky phantoms glide, + Still intent on savage rites, + Or when he of Sunnyside + Marshals his fantastic sprites: + Then we seem again to hear + War-whoops echoing 'midst the hills, + And old Hendrick's lusty cheer + As the wind his canvas fills. + + As Mohegan, ages old, + Though for ever self-renewed, + Through unbroken forests rolled + All thy floods in solitude: + But as Hudson, now and ever, + Distant lands repeat thy name, + And the world, O glorious river! + Stands the guardian of thy fame. + +JAMES MANNING WINCHELL. + + + + +PUBLIC LIBRARIES IN THE UNITED STATES. + + +Many a mickle makes a muckle, says the proverb, and whoever looks into +the operations of society on the great scale will find how true the +saying is. A national debt, a national crop, the cattle feeding on the +hills of a broad continent, the school-going children of a populous +commonwealth, the number of its vagabonds and criminals at large or in +jail, all need such an array of figures for their expression that the +amounts really convey no impression to the mind. The number of books +collected in public libraries does not reach such unwieldy proportions +as these, but it is still very large. The information gathered by the +Bureau of Education for the purpose of exhibiting the condition of +American society at the end of the first century of our independence +shows that the libraries which are classed as "public" number 3,682 in +the United States, and contain 12,276,964 volumes and 1,500,000 +pamphlets. + +Of our private libraries little is known. In 1870 the census-takers +reported 107,673 collections of this class, containing in all 25,571,503 +volumes, but these numbers are known to be much below the truth. The +acute and practical superintendent of the ninth census declared that +this part of his work had no value, and even said that "the statistics +of private libraries are not, from any proper point of view, among the +desirable inquiries of the census." What a commentary upon the progress +of society is contained in this opinion of the most accomplished +statistician ever engaged in studying our social movements! It is but a +short time since the owning of books was a mark of superior station in +the world. What has produced the change? + +We can perhaps learn the cause of it better by a comparison than by +direct study of bibliographical history. In Voltaire's time thermometers +were so great a rarity that the owner of one of them was considered to +be a savant. Time and social progress have so completely altered this +state of things that thermometers are now made in factories, are owned +by all classes, and applied to the commonest uses. The thermometers +hanging on our walls no longer indicate familiarity with science, but +merely that a new tool has been added to household appliances. So in +book-making. The art which once served chiefly to record discoveries in +knowledge, conduct controversies in polemics, philosophy, and politics, +and for other grave and important purposes now adds to these a multitude +of common uses. A library may contain scores and even hundreds of +volumes, and yet have nothing but those books which have served in the +education and amusement of the children in an ordinary family. Or it may +be the result of a chance aggregation of "railway literature," bought to +relieve the tediousness of travel. Or it may consist, as is sometimes +the case, of the small and precious collections in frontier log huts, of +the gratuitous contributions of the patent medicine vender, the +plough-maker, and the lightning-rod man, mingled with the dear-bought +subscription books of the wandering peddler! Books are so common that +the possession of them is no longer an indication of the intellectual +tendency of their possessors. + +With libraries open to the public the case is different. Their condition +affords one standard by which the character and tastes of the people may +be measured. + +The United States are considered to be far behind foreign countries in +their book collections. We have nothing to compare with Dresden, Berlin, +and Paris, with their 500,000, 700,000, and 2,000,000 volumes. We do not +reach the wealth of even such second-rate places as Wolfenbuettel, +Breslau, and Goettingen, if their collections are correctly reported at +300,000, 340,000, and 400,000 volumes. And yet each year witnesses the +purchase of more than 400,000 volumes for our public libraries, taken +collectively, a number that is larger than any one collection in this +country! The permanent fund of our libraries, so far as known, amounts +to $6,105,581 and their annual income to $1,398,756. These figures do +not, in fact, represent anything like the truth, for not half the +libraries reported their permanent fund, or their yearly purchases, and +only one-quarter reported their yearly income. About one-fifth of the +whole number (769 exactly) report their expenditures for new books at +$562,407, and in 742 libraries the use of books amounts to 8,879,869 +volumes yearly. In these figures Sunday-school libraries, one of the +most constantly used kinds, are not included. Looking at the magnitude +of the numbers reported, and considering all that is omitted, we obtain +an inkling of the immense exchange of books among the people from these +public distribution points. + +The existing public libraries, excluding all under 300 volumes, and all +in Sunday-schools of whatever size, may be considered as belonging to +six principal divisions. These, with the number of libraries and the +volumes in each, are as follows: + + _Class._ _No. libraries._ _No. Volumes._ + + Educational 1,577 3,442,799 + Professional 360 1,406,759 + Historical 51 421,794 + Government 122 1,562,597 + Proprietary Public 1,109 3,228,555 + Free Public 342 1,909,444 + Miscellaneous 121 305,016 + ----- ---------- + 3,682 12,276,964 + +The "miscellaneous" class contains the libraries of secret and +benevolent societies, and some others difficult to arrange. On the whole +it might be better to class them with the proprietary public libraries. + +Educational libraries are the oldest in the country, and the most +venerable of them is naturally that of the oldest educational +institution, Harvard University, which dates from 1638. Before the end +of that century three others had been started, and singularly enough, +all at about the same time: King William school at Annapolis, 1697, +King's Chapel Library at Boston, 1698, and Christ church at +Philadelphia, 1698. Yale and William and Mary Colleges began their +collections in 1700, and then proprietary libraries began their +existence. The Proprietors' Library in Pomfret, Conn., was founded in +1737, Redwood, in Newport, 1747, and the Library Society, Charleston, S. +C, 1748. Philadelphia was especially active at that early period, +establishing no less than five, the Library Company in 1731, +Carpenters', 1736, Four Monthly Meetings of Friends, 1742, Philosophical +Society, 1743, and Loganian, 1745. Fifty-one of these enterprises were +begun in the second half of the eighteenth century, but failure and +consolidation brought the number of living libraries in 1800 down to +forty-nine. In 1776 twenty-nine were in existence, and from that time +the growth has been as follows: + + _Libraries formed._ _Number._ _Present size._ + + From 1775 to 1800 30 242,171 vols. + " 1800 to 1825 179 2,056,113 " + " 1825 to 1850 551 2,807,218 " + " 1850 to 1876 2,240 5,481,068 " + +This little table brings out very strikingly the distinctive peculiarity +of libraries in this country. Their strength does not lie so much in the +importance of individual collections as in the existence of a large +number of young, active, and growing institutions which are unitedly +advancing to a future that must evidently be tremendous. More than +seventy per cent. of our existing libraries have been formed within the +last twenty-five years, and contain about 2,500 volumes each. Of the +older libraries those which were founded in the last quarter of last +century have an average of about 8,000 volumes, those of the following +quarter about 11,500 volumes, and those of the third quarter about 5,000 +volumes each. It is plain that library work has been remarkably active +since 1850. In fact it has been so active as to open a new profession to +the educated classes of this country. A large number of highly trained +men are engaged in library work, and the discussion of library science +is carried on with energy. It is quite probable that a few more years +will see the introduction of this study into American colleges, as a +preparation for a promising branch of industry. But let us return to our +classification, which covers some interesting points. + +_Educational_ libraries are of three kinds: + + 1. Academy and school 1,059, with 1,270,497 vols. + 2. College 312 " 1,949,105 " + 3. Asylum and Reformatory 206 " 223,197 " + +District school libraries form a very modern part of the general system, +having been first suggested by Governor Clinton of New York in 1827, and +introduced by law in 1835. Since then twenty other States have adopted +the plan, but some, like Massachusetts, have abandoned it for that of +town libraries. The greatest difficulties it labors under are found in +country districts, where the funds are applied to other purposes, and +the books are recklessly lent out and lost, both evils being due to the +fact that few persons can be found who are able and willing to keep the +work in good order. In cities the success of these district libraries is +much greater. They now report an aggregate of 1,270,497 books, but their +statistics are very incomplete. College libraries are among the most +important in the country, that of Harvard being the largest we have, +after the Congressional library in Washington. As to asylum and +reformatory libraries, it would be hard to find circumstances under +which books could be more usefully collected than in those institutions, +where in 1870 32,901 prisoners were confined, and 116,102 paupers housed +habitually or at times. If we consider that only one-fifth of the +criminals are in jail, and allow for the natural increase of criminals +and paupers, it will be apparent that the population which may derive +benefit from these libraries must now number at least 300,000 persons. +To meet their wants there are 206 libraries, with 223,197 volumes. The +Pennsylvania State Penitentiary has the largest collection, 9,000 +volumes, besides 1,000 school books. The other end of the line is +occupied by Florida, which maintains 40 volumes in its Penitentiary. + +Some interesting information has been gathered concerning the literary +taste of convicts. Story books, magazines, and light literature +generally are the favorite choice, but history, biography, and travels +are also well patronized. In the Massachusetts State prison Humboldt's +"Cosmos" and other philosophical works are called for. In fact the value +of prison libraries is vouched for by all authorities, and one says that +no convicts, except those really idiotic, leave a prison where there is +a library without having gained some advantage. The greatest defects in +the system are the lack of books and of light to read them by at night. +There are but forty prison libraries, with 61,095 volumes, and in +American prisons the cells are not lighted. Lights are placed in the +corridors so that only a small number of the inmates have light enough +to read by. The Joliet (Ill.) prison is a cheering exception to this +gloomy state of things. Each cell has its own catalogue, and lights are +allowed up to nine o'clock. Public charities of several kinds have +lately suffered from exposures that prevent charitably disposed persons +from giving aid which they would otherwise gladly contribute. It may be +useful to suggest that money sent to any prison for the benefit of its +library could hardly fail to be helpful. + +In reformatories, where the effort is to cultivate the moral faculties, +the library is an essential part of the system. Forty-nine of them have +collections containing 51,466 books. In these institutions we have an +indication of what the library, and other moral forces like it, is worth +as an educator. Mr. Sanborn thinks that the proportion "of worthy +citizens trained up among the whole 24,000 in preventive and reformatory +schools would be as high as seventy-five per cent." + +_Professional_ libraries are-- + + 1. Law 135, with 330,353 volumes + 2. Medical 64 " 159,045 " + 3. Theological 86 " 633,369 " + 4. Scientific 75 " 283,992 " + +Here we have two surprises. One is that lawyers, with their interminable +"reports" falling from nearly every court in the country, and never +becoming really obsolete (a peculiarity that hardly any other +professional works enjoy), should have so few and such small libraries. +The reason probably lies in the assiduity with which each lawyer +collects the works needed in his line of practice. The other surprise is +that a profession so old and active as that of medicine should be so +poorly represented in books. The lawyers have an average of about 2,400 +books in their libraries, and the largest collections in the list are +that of the Law Institute in New York, 20,000 volumes; Harvard School, +15,000; Social Law Library, Boston, 13,000; and Law Association of San +Francisco, 12,500. No other reaches 10,000 volumes, and in fact the +above deductions leave the others with about 2,000 volumes each. The +medical gentlemen are still worse off. There are in the Surgeon +General's office 40,000 volumes; Philadelphia College of Physicians, +18,753; Pennsylvania College of Physicians, 12,500; and New York +Hospital, 10,000; leaving an average of 1,300 volumes to each of the +other institutions. In these figures we have an indication of the +excellent work done by the Army Bureau at Washington. Its 40,000 bound +volumes are supplemented by 40,000 pamphlets, making a collection which +the profession greatly needed. The theologians seem to have attended as +energetically to the collection as to the making of books. In the last +division of this class belong the engineering, agricultural, mining, +botanical, military, and naval schools and societies, and they appear to +give considerable importance to their libraries. Though they are mostly +young institutions, the average number of books is 3,800. In addition to +the bound volumes mentioned above, the societies own 218,852 pamphlets +and 2,169 manuscripts, the proportion of these two kinds of literary +works being naturally large in scientific collections. The largest +libraries are those of the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass., 30,655 +volumes, and 105,408 pamphlets, and "many" MSS.; Philadelphia Academy of +Natural Sciences, 30,000 volumes and 35,000 pamphlets; Wagner Free +Institution of Science, Philadelphia, 15,000 volumes; Museum of +Comparative Zooelogy (Harvard), 13,000; Illinois Industrial University, +10,000; School of Mines, New York, 7,000; Sheffield Scientific School, +5,000. + +_Historical societies_ have been much more actively employed in +collecting than the table we have given indicates. Since the adoption +of the Constitution in 1789 no less than one hundred and sixty +societies have been formed, and Dr. Homes of the New York State Library +reports their collections to aggregate more than 482,000 volumes and +568,000 pamphlets. The number of MSS. is 88,771, besides 1,361 bound +volumes of them. The largest accumulations are: + + _Volumes._ _Pamphlets._ _MSS._ + + Am. Antiq. Soc., + Worcester 60,497 + + New York Historical 60,000 12,000 15,000 + + Wisconsin Historical 33,347 31,653 300 + + Long Island Historical 26,000 25,000 + + Massachusetts Historical 23,000 45,000 1,000 v. + + Congregational Library, + Boston 22,895 95,000 550 + + Connecticut Historical 16,000 20,000 + + Amer. Philosoph., + Philadelphia 20,000 15,000 100 v. + + German Society, + Philadelphia 16,000 + + Pennsylvania Historical 16,000 30,000 25,000 + +It is among these societies that we find the largest average of any +class, excepting the Government. Historical libraries contain about +8,400 bound volumes, 7,000 pamphlets, and 1,000 MSS. to each collection. +In spite of this the public collections are often surpassed in +completeness in special branches by private ones. In this country a +public institution can rarely compete successfully with an eager and +determined private buyer. + +_Government_ libraries include others than those for the use of +officials, as the following list shows: + + _Libraries._ _Volumes._ + + 1. Government 35 695,633 + 2. State and Territorial 47 834,219 + 3. Garrison 40 32,745 + +The official libraries are of several kinds, and as many of them are of +prime importance, we may be permitted to specify them more minutely than +those of any other class: + + _Volumes._ + + Library of Congress 300,000 + " House of Representatives 125,000 + " Surgeon General 40,000 + " State Department 29,000 + " Senate 25,000 + " Patent Office 23,000 + " War Department 13,000 + " Attorney General 12,000 + " Treasury 8,440 + " Solicitor of Treasury 6,000 + " Post Office 6,301 + " Hydrographer's Office 7,000 + " Dep't. Agriculture 7,000 + " Bureau Statistics 6,000 + " Naval Observatory 7,000 + " Coast Survey 6,000 + +Many of these are scientific collections and the only large ones of +their kind in the country. Their presence, in conjunction with the +Smithsonian Institution, has made Washington one of the most active +scientific centres in the country. Government publications are +sometimes referred to as mere trash, but aside from the remarkably +thorough and admirable reports which the several public surveys have +produced within a few years, and aside from such notable publications +as the reports of Wilkes, Perry, and Kane, the ordinary issues of the +Government printing office are anything but undeserving documents. They +are in most cases necessary, useful, and interesting to some one. As +special reports, made to cover some field that is narrow, however +necessary it may be, and limited to that range by the law which +authorizes them, they cannot possibly often be publications of general +interest. In fact it is their extremely special character that gives +them value. We are sometimes told that a government may be obliged to +publish its State papers as matter of record, but it is noticeable that +these volumes of documentary history are less inquired for than almost +any others. The surveying, engineering, geological, astronomical, and +other scientific reports published by the Government are in much +greater request, and bring the highest prices in old bookstores. The +explanation is, of course, that the scientific reports are useful to a +larger class than the others. They appeal to "bread-winners" in several +important professions, to students of pure science the world over, and +to the already large and increasing body of teachers. For the +"Smithsonian Contributions" one hundred and fifty dollars, or more than +first cost, is demanded, and the first volume brings twenty dollars, or +two and a half times its original price. The Mining Industry volume of +the Fortieth Parallel Report brought forty dollars in the shops +(whenever it could be found) even while the Engineer Corps was still +gingerly distributing its limited edition _gratis_. Many more examples +could be adduced, but these are sufficient to show that the Government +does bring out works that are sorely wanted. We wish its method of +distribution were better. At present the workers in a profession have +great difficulty in obtaining the most needed publications of +Government, while Congressmen, who are politicians and nothing else, +are flooded with books they cannot understand, and only sneer at. The +distribution of professional reports through members of Congress, who +are not professional men, has never produced anything but +dissatisfaction. There is no part of the country where Government +publications can be found. Even New York city cannot produce them. This +is all wrong. The Government should maintain a collection of all its +publications in at least four States. They could be established either +in connection with existing libraries or with the army headquarters +that are maintained permanently in such places as New York, Chicago, +San Francisco, and New Orleans. Such documentary libraries would not be +deserted, as some may suppose. The Patent Room of the Boston Public +Library was visited last year by 1,765 persons, and a collection of the +engineering, scientific, and official publications of the Government in +New York would be a centre for professional study, and be visited by +thousands yearly. To house the Government publications would require so +much space that an ordinary library could hardly be expected to +undertake the task without aid. The patent specifications alone of +three countries, Great Britain, France, and the United States, with +their increase for ten years to come, require an apartment at least +thirty feet square. + +_Proprietary_ public libraries are the second of the six kinds in size, +and would be the first if the "miscellaneous" were counted among them, +as they probably should be. Under this head we have grouped all public +collections the access to which is in any way limited, as by a yearly +payment, by membership in a society, or otherwise. The large total in +the table is made up of: + + _Number._ _Volumes._ + + 1. College Society L. 299 474,642 + 2. Mercantile 15 543,930 + 3. Social 708 2,052,423 + 4. Y. M. Christian A. 87 157,557 + +In this class we first reach the libraries that deal directly with the +"people"; that is, adults of moderate means. These collections have been +well styled the "colleges of the poor," and in them all persons who are +industrious enough to be able to spare a dollar or two yearly may obtain +useful knowledge or innocent amusement. Classes for study of languages, +literature, and the arts, and lectures by prominent persons are +frequently added to the library system, the whole forming one of the +most potent of modern social forces. It seems quite natural that this +democratic system of intellectual improvement should owe its origin to +the people's philosopher, Poor Richard. Benjamin Franklin founded the +first proprietary library in Philadelphia, in 1731, and his plan +included not merely cooeperation for the sake of pecuniary strength, but +also discussion and mutual improvement. + +_Free_ public libraries are in character much like the last class, but +are maintained usually by State or town grants, or by private gifts. It +is probably in connection with these institutions that the dream of +some enthusiasts for uniting art museums to the collections of books +will be realized. + +Only twelve States have a quarter of a million volumes in their public +libraries, taken together. They are: + + _Libraries._ _Volumes._ + + Massachusetts 454 2,208,304 + New York 615 2,131,377 + Pennsylvania 364 1,291,665 + District of Columbia 63 761,133 + Ohio 237 634,939 + Illinois 177 463,826 + Connecticut 121 414,396 + Maryland 79 382,250 + California 85 306,978 + New Jersey 91 280,931 + Missouri 85 260,102 + Virginia 65 248,156 + +This order will, no doubt, rapidly and constantly change. It will be +observed that in respect to number of libraries the succession is not +the same as for the number of volumes. It can hardly be doubted that +such States as Ohio, Illinois, California, and Missouri will advance up +the line, while others that now do not possess a quarter of a million +volumes, as Indiana, with 137 public libraries, Michigan, with 94, Iowa, +with 80, Tennessee, with 74, and Kentucky, with 71, will soon be in the +list. As a matter of State "rivalry," such summaries are valueless, even +if any rivalry of the kind could be proved. But they do have some +interest and value as social statistics. + +More significant, perhaps, are the libraries of ten principal cities, in +which one-quarter of all the books in the country within public reach +are gathered: + + _Libraries._ _Volumes._ _Pop'tion 1870._ + + New York 122 878,665 942,292 + Boston 68 735,900 250,526 + Philadelphia 101 706,447 674,022 + Baltimore 38 237,934 53,180 + Cincinnati 30 200,890 216,239 + St. Louis 32 172,875 310,864 + Brooklyn 21 165,192 396,099 + San Francisco 28 162,716 149,473 + Chicago 24 144,680 298,979 + Charleston 6 26,600 48,956 + --- --------- --------- + 500 3,431,899 3,340,628 + +In these ten cities, therefore, are collected 7.3 per cent. of the +public libraries, 28 per cent. of the books, and 8.66 per cent. of the +population in this country. If Washington had been included instead of +Charleston, the concentration of books in cities would have been more +strikingly marked. + +A proper conception of American libraries cannot be obtained without +assorting them according to size, which is done in the following table: + + _Number._ _Volumes_. + + 500- 1,000 Volumes 925 592,510 + 1,000- 2,000 " 762 983,953 + 2,000- 3,000 " 362 816,928 + 3,000- 4,000 " 236 765,010 + 4,000- 5,000 " 156 667,874 + 5,000- 10,000 " 264 1,703,271 + 10,000- 20,000 " 152 2,013,660 + 20,000- 50,000 " 82 2,329,305 + 50,000-100,000 " 10 640,617 + 100,000-200,000 " 7 926,727 + Over 200,000 " 2 599,869 + +What is to be the future of American libraries? The most obvious +discernible facts are that the popular energies are likely to be given +to the support of free town libraries, and that the aggregate of book +accumulations will be enormous, though no individual collection now +presents the likelihood of rising to extreme proportions; the increase +will come by the growth of the numerous small libraries. The mercantile +institutions have done and are continuing a good work, but they have +prepared the way for a step beyond. Free town libraries are quite in +sympathy with American ideas, and will be supported. They are capable of +being made good means of disseminating information. It is fortunate that +in this country novels belong to the cheapest publications, most of the +good ones appearing in fifty-cent and dollar editions. More solid works +are also costlier, so that a popular library can with good reason give +its energies to the collection of really good works, leaving the people +to supply themselves with the cheaper novels. + +Numerous as are the views which have been expressed upon the proper +scope and quality of the library of the future, we propose to add one +to the list of suggestions. It is that the next founder of a library +should confine it entirely to _periodicals_. It is through current +literature that every kind of science and every tendency of thought now +finds expression. The profoundest discussions in philosophy, +discoveries in knowledge, keenest studies of life and character, are +now made through the world's weekly and monthly publications. Books are +often no more than summaries of what has been printed before in +separate magazines. We have in fact heard of one gentleman who broke up +the library he had spent years in collecting, and gave his attention to +periodicals, because they were the original sources of knowledge in his +profession. The libraries which we have styled "professional" are +compelled to spend large sums on these issues, which were once styled +"ephemeral," but are now found to be of lasting value. + +Under these circumstances, why not have a library of this periodical +literature? Just as some men refuse to read translations, learning a new +language if a book they need is printed in a tongue unknown to them, so +let us reject summaries and accumulate original materials. As to the +cost of such a library, the five thousand important periodicals which +are said to be published will require probably $30,000 a year for their +purchase, and if as much more is added for rent, binding, salaries, +etc., we have an income required which demands a capital of more than a +million dollars, to say nothing of half a million for back numbers! + +Some readers may be curious to know what chance there is of making a +collection that shall be fairly representative of the world's +literature. We can safely answer, _none_. Herr Hottinger, who has +issued the prospectus of a universal catalogue of all books published, +thinks there are about three million titles, and his critics say this +estimate is too low. Twenty-five thousand new works are said to be +added each year to this number. Now the largest number of _volumes_ +(and therefore a less number of titles) added to libraries in this +country yearly, is: Boston Public Library, 18,000; Philadelphia +Mercantile, 17,004; Congressional, 15,400; Chicago Public, 11,331; +Cincinnati Public, 11,398; New York Mercantile, 8,000; and Harvard, +7,000. The numbers reported by the Mercantile and public libraries are +of little value, since these institutions often buy a dozen or a score +copies of a popular work. It is therefore evident that no library in +this country is even attempting to keep up with the current issue of +books. + +It has been found impossible to estimate, with any degree of accuracy, +the amount of money spent on new books by the libraries, as more than +half of them fail to make any report on this point. Permanent funds, +amounting to $6,105,581, are held by 358 libraries, and 1,364 have none; +1,960 make no report. The endowments are divided very unevenly among the +classes, as this table shows: + + _Number Reporting._ _Amount._ + + Educational 54 $775,801 + Professional 54 695,610 + Historical 26 742,572 + Government none + Proprietary Public 124 1,079,359 + Free Public 93 2,804,964 + Miscellaneous 7 7,275 + +This, however, does not show what is spent yearly in buying books, an +item which only one in about twenty-three of the libraries report. The +amount is $562,407, and at $1.25 per volume, which is Mr. Winsor's +estimate of the average cost of books, the yearly acquisitions by +purchase are limited to about 450,000 volumes. + +Figures such as we have presented are really no guide to the worth of an +individual library, or of a library system, to the people. That can be +learned only by the comparison of experiences by the men who have charge +of the books and their distribution, but the elements for such an +analysis are wanting. The yearly use of books in 742 libraries in 1875 +was 8,879,869 volumes, or from two to two and a half times the number of +volumes on the shelves of the reporting libraries. Great differences +exist in this respect. Few libraries are so eagerly sought as the +military post library on Angel Island, California, which distributed its +772 books so often that its yearly circulation was 4,500! The Chicago +Public Library, with 48,100 volumes, circulated 403,356; Boston +Athenaeum, with 105,000 volumes, circulated 33,000; Boston Public +Library, with 299,869 volumes, circulated 758,493. + +These statistics are sufficient. It is probable that the libraries of +the country, costing say $16,000,000 for books, and spending more than +$1,400,000 yearly, afford to the people the use of from twenty-four to +thirty million volumes every year. It cannot be doubted that they form a +very important factor in our social and national economy. + +More than a thousand librarians are engaged in the conduct of the public +libraries, many of them men of great ability and culture. There can be +no doubt that their study of this important problem will result in the +establishing of an intelligent and harmonious system of supplying a +nation with the reading matter it requires. + +JOHN A. CHURCH. + + + + +HOW NATIONAL BANK NOTES ARE REDEEMED. + + +There are few divisions in the Treasury department of the United States +at Washington less known to the public, and more interesting to +visitors, than that over the entrance to which is displayed the legend +"National Bank Redemption Agency." It is a matter of the most common +knowledge throughout the country, that the various forms of national +currency and securities are by some process, popularly esteemed more or +less miraculous, printed at the Treasury, and that greenbacks are by +some method, presumably more within the laws of nature, redeemed there. +The ordinary money-holder, who has in his pocket his tens or hundreds of +legal tenders, is passably familiar with the history, past and to come, +of each note. But to his national bank notes the average financier is +more of a stranger. Each note, if he can read as well as reckon cash, +tells him whence it cometh, but ten to one he has only the vaguest +notion of whither it goeth. Hence it is that of the thousands of +ejaculatory comments delivered, during the centennial summer and autumn, +through the wire gate opposite to the second assortment teller's desk, +at the agency, so many were of a nature tending to make that industrious +clerk smile with amusement or stare in amazement. + +The throngs of centennial visitors who daily passed through the halls of +the Treasury saw various things at the agency to attract their notice. +They saw their entrance barred by the gate above alluded to, put there +for the double purpose of securing ventilation and excluding "the great +unwashed"; they saw a small-sized room converted into a perfect +labyrinth by means of wirework partitions; they saw in each of the +apartments so set off hundreds of thousands, and even millions of +dollars, in the various processes of handling in bulk, piled upon +counters and tables, constructed evidently with a view to use rather +than ornament; and they saw through the entrance to an adjoining room +national bank notes of all denominations, passing with wonderful +rapidity under the deft fingers of counters of both sexes. But what +chiefly imposed upon the imagination of the country visitor were two +massive safes, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. In the interests +of truth, let a revelation be made to a public too prone to believe +their eyes. Those safes, for at least the upper third of their ponderous +height, are of inch pine boards. The crowded condition of the Treasury +building renders space very valuable. A place of storage was needed for +the various forms of stationery in use at the agency. The floor was +already covered with desks, tables, and counters, the intricate passages +between which would have defied the attempts of the Minotaur to escape; +but there were at least a hundred cubic feet of space above each of the +iron safes, absolutely going to waste. The genius of the officials and +the skill of the departmental cabinet makers triumphed over the +difficulties of the situation. As for the inconvenient height, is it not +annihilated by a ladder? + +By act of Congress, the Treasurer of the United States is constituted +the agent of the national banks for the redemption of their notes. The +agency, since July 1, 1875, is one of the divisions in his office. +Regular provision is made by Congress in the appropriation bills for the +salaries of the force of this division. Careful accounts are kept of +every item of expense incurred during the year, and at the end of the +twelvemonth the sum disbursed is apportioned among the banks according +to the number of the notes of each that have been handled, and +assessments are made for the several amounts. The circulation of +national banks being redeemable in greenbacks, each bank is required by +law to keep on deposit with the Treasurer legal tenders to the amount of +five per cent. of its outstanding issue as a fund for the redemption of +its notes. + +The present law provides for ninety-eight clerks in the agency, ranging +in grade from the messenger to the superintendent. Of this number, those +employed in handling money are divided into two forces, under the +direction, respectively, of the receiving teller and the assorting +teller. The business of the former force is to receive the shipments +coming from the various banks and sub-treasuries for redemption, count +the money, and report the amounts for return remittances; that of the +latter force is to assort the notes and prepare them for delivery to the +Comptroller of the Currency for destruction or to the banks for reissue. +This double process may seem at first sight very simple and easy; but in +fact it is extremely complex and difficult; and the division in which it +is carried on may fairly be counted among the most thoroughly organized +and systematically conducted parts of all the machinery devised by the +Government for the transaction of the manifold public business. And no +wonder, when it is recollected that there are now in circulation nine +denominations of national bank notes, the issue of twenty-three hundred +and forty individual institutions, amounting in the aggregate to three +hundred and twenty millions of dollars; and that every one of these +notes, and every dollar of this total, must ultimately, by those +ninety-eight clerks and their successors, be separated from the mass, +and assigned, under the proper description, with unerring precision, +each to the bank by which that particular unit of this vast volume was +emitted and must be redeemed. + +The bulk of the currency sent in for redemption comes through the Adams +Express Company, who have a contract for making all shipments of money +for the Government, and who for convenience have an office in the +basement of the Treasury. The agency occupies four rooms on the main +floor along the west wall, and one on the opposite side of the passage. +Early visitors to that part of the building may have noticed a wooden +box, much resembling a carpenter's tool chest, trundled along upon a +cart by a porter, and followed by a man with a book under his arm. The +box contains the day's delivery of national bank currency for +redemption, ranging ordinarily from half a million to a million and a +half of dollars, and the book contains a receipt for the amount, to be +signed by the receiving clerk of the agency. The money comes in perhaps +a hundred or as high as two hundred and fifty packages, from as many +places throughout the country. On being opened these packages display a +miscellaneous aggregation, of which the following items may be +mentioned: Thousands of notes of all the denominations and all the +banks, perhaps a little soiled, but perfectly sound, and for all the +purposes of currency in as good a condition as when they left the +printers' hands; a somewhat smaller bulk of others in every state of +mutilation and uncleanliness; hundreds, clean, crisp, and unwrinkled, +that have not been counted three times outside of the division of +issues; scores torn, cut, ground, burned, charred, boiled, soaked, +chewed, and digested, until a skilful eye is required to recognize that +they have ever been intended for money; and scattered singly through +this mass, counterfeits, stolen notes, "split" notes, "raised" notes, +and now and then a stray greenback. + +The packages, after an entry of them has been made on the books, are +distributed singly among women counters, each of whom gives her receipt. +A counter, upon receiving a package, takes it to her desk, breaks the +seals, and first takes an inventory of the money to see whether the +aggregate of the sums called for by the straps around the various +parcels of notes corresponds with the amount claimed for the whole. +Should she find a discrepancy, she makes a certificate of the difference +for return to the sender. Next she proceeds to count the money, +carefully keeping the notes and straps of each parcel separate. If she +discovers an error of count, she notes upon the strap, over her initials +and the date, the sum which she finds the package to be "over" or +"short." Spurious or other notes, for any reason excluded by the rules, +are thrown out, pinned to the straps in which they came, and returned. +After finishing her count she makes a statement of the amounts of +"overs," "shorts," counterfeits, and other rejected notes, and of the +amount for the credit of the sender, and from this statement return +remittance is made. The next duty of the counter is to assort the notes +into the two classes of such as are unfit for circulation and such as +are fit, and into the various denominations. When a hundred notes of one +denomination and class are counted she surrounds them with a white +strap, on which she pencils her initials and the date. Straps printed +for full packages of a hundred notes of the different denominations are +provided. Less than a hundred notes make a package of "odds." The "odds" +arising from a day's count are delivered to "odd" counters, who mass +them into full packages. Each counter, having finished this portion of +her work, enters, in duplicate, upon a leaf of the blank book furnished +her for this purpose, the various items into which she has divided her +cash, and delivers this with the money to the teller. He takes an +inventory of the amount by straps, and finding the counter's statement +to be correct, tears off the half leaf on which the duplicate account is +made, and signs the original as a receipt. After all the full packages +resulting from the day's count have been delivered in this manner, the +teller makes them up into bundles of ten, or one thousand notes, keeping +each denomination and class separate, and in this shape, on the evening +of the day on which the money was received, they are ready for delivery +to the assorting teller's room. Here the amount is inventoried and +receipted for, and the money is locked up for the night in the iron +portion of one of those wonder-waking safes. + +None but the most experienced and skilful counters are employed in this +first process, the responsibility both to the Government and the +employee being too great to be imposed upon any but experts. It will +readily be seen not only that correctness of count is of vital +importance, but also that the knowledge and skill necessary to detect +irredeemable notes are indispensable. A counter, when she puts her +initials upon a package of notes, assumes the responsibility for the +correctness of the amount as shown upon the strap; and any differences, +if against her, will be made good at the end of the month out of her +salary. The degree of accuracy reached by the present force is +surprising considering the bulk of money handled daily. Counterfeits +which, like the fives on the Traders' National Bank of Chicago, the +Hampden of Westfield, Massachusetts, and the Merchants' of New Bedford, +Massachusetts, have passed current all over the country, and become so +worn that some unsuspecting village banker thinks proper to have them +redeemed, are laid aside without a second glance. All the tricks +practised by operators in "queer" are discovered instantly. + +Among the means known to these gentry for expanding illegally the value +of genuine currency, that most frequently resorted to is known as +"splitting." Nine notes, for example, of a single denomination, are +taken, and of the first one-tenth is cut off from the upper portion with +a sharp knife by a line parallel to the margin. From the second +two-tenths are cut, and so on, the divisions being made successively +lower by tenths of the width, until from the last note the lower tenth +is cut. The upper portion of the first note is then joined, by pasting, +to the lower portion of the second, the upper portion of the second to +the lower portion of the third, and this plan being carried out with all +the others, the result is the production of ten notes, each of which +lacks one-tenth of its face, but which will pass with little question, +among the inexperienced, at full value. The original notes being, +however, very likely of different banks in several States, one effect of +this operation, in the cases where the lines of division pass through +the titles, is the creation of banks not found on the lists of the +Treasury. When a note of this composition is presented for redemption +the joined portions are separated, and being genuine are treated as +parts of notes, and redeemed accordingly. The rules of the department +applying to national bank currency are that notes lacking less than +two-fifths are redeemed at their face. When more than two-fifths are +missing the amount allowed for is proportionally reduced. The only +exception to this rule is in cases where there is satisfactory evidence +that the missing portion has been destroyed and can never be presented +for redemption. + +Another trick of counterfeiters is that of "raising." The original +numerals and letters denoting the value of the note are carefully +scraped off with a sharp instrument. By this means the paper is made +thin, and over the places are pasted the figures and words of a higher +denomination, often so neatly as to defy detection except on critical +examination. Fives are in this way often converted into fifties, and +ones into hundreds. Of course the alteration will readily be discovered +by any one in the habit of handling money. Such notes are redeemed at +the original face value. + +But of all irredeemable notes those which appeal most strongly to the +ill feelings of counters are of the description known as "stolen." +Readers of newspapers will doubtless recollect accounts of a heavy +robbery perpetrated not many months ago upon the Northampton National +Bank of Northampton, Massachusetts. Among the booty there secured by the +burglars were one hundred and forty-five new five-dollar notes, of the +issue of that bank, unsigned, which had never been paid over the +counter. The cashier had taken the precaution to make a memorandum of +the numbers printed on the faces, and was therefore enabled to describe +each note as he would his watch taken from his fob by a pickpocket. +Notice was given to the department, and though the notes came in shortly +after by the dozen, it is safe to say that not one has been charged to +the account of the bank. The notes are perfectly genuine, excepting the +signatures; the most skilful expert would hardly discover anything +suspicious in their appearance; the only irregularity connected with +them is the way they were put in circulation. The fact of their +existence renders necessary to every counter who would secure herself +against loss an examination of the numbers printed on every five-dollar +note of that bank passing through her hands; for the bank, never having +issued those stolen, cannot be made to redeem them. Other banks have +currency in circulation upon a similar basis, the number of notes +varying in different instances from one upward. Occasionally a straggler +of this description makes its way some distance into the agency, but it +is sure to be detected sooner or later by some of the many vigilant eyes +under which it must pass--eyes perhaps made all the more vigilant by +costly experience of the consequences of carelessness. Such notes when +discovered to have been redeemed become the property, in exchange for a +like amount in greenbacks, of the person last concerned in their +redemption. + +It has been seen that the greater portion of the currency received is +fit for circulation. Out of an aggregate of $176,121,855, assorted +during the fiscal year ending June 30, 1876, $97,478,700 was of this +description, and was returned to the banks for reissue. Originally it +was the expectation that none but worn and mutilated notes would be +offered for redemption, and for a long while all redeemed currency, in +whatever condition, was destroyed, and new issued instead. But the +proportion of sound notes became at length so great that the new plan +was adopted as an evident measure of economy, and now no piece of paper +money is withdrawn from circulation until worn out, unless at the desire +of the bank. Many financial institutions within easy reach of the +capital make a custom of forwarding for redemption all their receipts of +currency for the day, getting in return new notes just from the +printers. This method is pursued as an accommodation to the business +public, who prefer clean and crisp notes; and while a day's deposits of +any large bank must include much currency perhaps just out of the +Treasury, the whole bulk is often shipped off to avoid the labor of +assorting. Besides, remittances for redeemed notes of national banks +being made, if desired, in greenbacks, the agency furnishes a convenient +means to city banks for keeping up their legal tender reserves. Under +the effect of heavy redemptions the condition of the currency of the +country is constantly improving, and the proportion of "fit" notes +received at the agency is gradually increasing. + +The next process which the redeemed currency undergoes is that of +assorting, and is carried on in a large room extending through about +one-fourth of the length of the building. Along the walls, on both sides +of an aisle, are arranged three rows of assorters' tills, by means of +which the labor is carried on. These tills are rectangular in shape, and +are divided into fifty-two compartments or "boxes," in four rows of +thirteen each. These boxes are four inches in depth, and a little larger +in length and width than the surface of a note. The tills are mounted at +an inclined angle upon stands, very much like a printer's case. At one +end, attached by a hinged support, is a small table at which the +assorter, seated upon a stool, does his counting and writing, and which, +when not needed for this purpose, is swung underneath the till. A +woven-wire folding screen is fastened to the upper portion of the stand, +and may be locked down over the boxes, or thrown back out of the way. +Padlocks of improved construction are part of the equipment, no two keys +being interchangeable. Below the till is a shelf of the width of the +stand, for the convenience to the assorter next in front. Each till is +supplied with a blank book in duplicate forms for the assorter's +accounts, an array of different colored printed straps, a box of bank +pins, and all the appliances necessary for handling money with ease and +rapidity. + +For convenience in assorting, the twenty-three hundred and forty banks +are arranged alphabetically, according to the name of their location, +into forty-four groups, which are distinguished numerically, there being +from forty to upward of sixty banks in each group. The operation of +assorting notes into these groups is known as the first assortment; that +of assorting the notes of the groups by individual banks, as the second +assortment. The bundles of redeemed currency, having been passed to the +assorting room, are delivered to the first assortment teller, who +distributes them among the twelve or fifteen first assorters, taking +receipts. Each of these persons carries his money to his till, and after +making an inventory by straps, proceeds to count the notes. He unpins a +package and lays the strap flat on the table before him. If the contents +of that package are found to be correct, he lays the money upon the +strap. The next strap is laid on top of this pile, and so on. By this +method the several packages are kept distinct, and if he afterward finds +an irredeemable note in his money, he may know from whom it comes. All +errors discovered, not only in this process, but in all others, are +required to be reported immediately. Should a package be found "over," +the assorter makes a memorandum, over his initials and the date, upon +the strap, and returns this with the superfluous note to the teller. The +note is put in the "cash till" to the credit of the counter whose +signature is on the strap. "Short" packages are returned for +verification to the counter, and the deficiency is made good out of the +"cash till" and charged to the counter. Spurious and stolen notes are in +like manner exchanged for genuine. An account is kept of all the +"overs," "shorts," etc., of each person, and on pay day the clerk who +has a preponderance against him will find in the envelope enclosing his +month's salary the superintendent's certificate of the balance "short," +and any counterfeit or stolen notes found in his straps, reckoned as so +much legal tender. This system is rigidly enforced not only in the +agency, but throughout the department. It seems hard that the penalty of +accident or inexperience should be so summary; but no other means has +yet been devised to secure the Treasury from loss. And after all, the +rule is the same as that enforced in some manner in the outside world of +business, where every one must trust to his own knowledge and skill for +security against loss. + +The first assorter having satisfied himself that his money is correct in +amount and passible in character, next proceeds to assort the notes. He +rises from his stool, swings his table out of the way, folds back the +cover of his till, takes up a package and deposits the notes one by one +in the box whose number corresponds to that of the group to which they +severally belong. We will say that long practice has made him familiar +not only with the scheme of the assortment, so that he need not refer to +the printed lists, but also with the face of the notes of every bank in +the country, and that the briefest glance is all that he requires to +recognize a note and determine where it belongs. The rapidity of some of +these assorters is remarkable, being limited only by the rate at which +it is possible to move the hand over the rather large area of a till. +Much, however, depends on the natural aptitudes of the person. Many who +have had no previous experience in handling money never become expert. +They are tried for six months or a year, and then dismissed as +incompetent. Even those by nature well qualified may hope to attain +moderate rapidity only after months of persevering effort. + +The manipulations of the beginner often cause much merriment among the +older employees. He has too many fingers, or too few, to fix a secure +grasp upon the "bills." He seizes a note with one or both hands, and +stretching it before him proceeds to read over the face. Then he +resolves himself into a committee of the whole on the state of his till, +to consider where the note is to be put. He refers from the note to the +printed schedule before him, and from the schedule to the note again, +hunts from one side of his till to the other for the box he wants, but +is now uncertain of the number, and recurs once more to the note and the +schedule. At length he cautiously deposits the money in a box. +Presently, after going through this process once or twice more, he is +convinced that he has been wrong. He institutes search throughout his +till to find his note again, and at last this cause of all his +perplexity settles in a box not to be again disturbed until that remote +hour of the day when he shall be ready to "count out." In the evening, +when he is expected to "turn in" his cash, he finds himself from one to +eighty or a hundred notes "over" or "short." His knuckles are more or +less raw from collision with the partitions of his till, his face is +flushed, and his hand trembles. In high excitement, seeing himself +waited for, he takes up a package which he put up for a hundred notes, +but which in his opinion may possibly contain a hundred and eleven or +only ninety-nine. He counts it through with an attempt at aptness, and +as he lays down the last note he whispers "fifty-five." In the end two +or three experts are set to help him, and in a few moments the +inconsiderable number of notes which formed his chaos are reduced to +order. In the later experience of the agency, however, instances of this +extreme bewilderment are rare. Every consideration is shown the +beginner, and the perfect organization of the office enables him to be +led up by the slowest and easiest gradations to the more difficult +labor. Besides, in appointments, which latterly are of infrequent +occurrence, a decided preference is given to bank clerks and others +whose previous training serves in some sort as an education. + +When a clerk has finished assorting his cash, he next proceeds to count +out the contents of each box, putting up the notes in packages of even +hundreds of dollars, and pinning round them yellow straps, if he has +unfit money, and pink if fit. On the strap of each package he writes in +pencil the amount, the group number, his initials, and the date. The +notes of all the groups in excess of even hundreds of dollars are thrown +together and finally counted and put up as "odds." This process +complete, the full packages are done up, by means of cardboards and +rubber bands, into bundles of a thousand notes each. The aggregate being +found to correspond with the sum received in the morning, the assorter +enters on his book in duplicate the amount of full packages and of +"odds," and delivers his cash with the book to the first assortment +teller. That clerk makes an inventory of the money by straps, and +finding it to agree with the book, tears off the duplicate entry to +guide him in his own accounts, and puts his initials to the original as +a receipt to the assorter. When all the money put in the hands of the +assorters has been returned in this manner, the total cash is balanced +and locked up until next day. The "odds" arising from the day's work are +kept separate for redistribution among the assorters on the following +morning. + +An expert will handle ten thousand notes between the hours of nine and +three, in the manner here described--no light task, for besides the +labor of assorting, every note must be counted twice. Persons of both +sexes are employed at this work, but the physical endurance required +makes it too heavy for women of weak frame. + +It will be understood that after passing through the first assorters' +hands the notes are in two lots of "fit" and "unfit," each lot being in +bundles of one thousand notes of one denomination, and each bundle +composed of packages of notes of single groups. The next operation is to +mass all the packages of all denominations composing the day's +assortment by groups. This is done by the first assortment teller, who +distributes the packages on a low table, according to the marks of the +assorters, and straps the packages of each group into a bundle on which +he marks the number of the group and the amount. The distinctions of +"fit" and "unfit" are still maintained. There are then forty-four +bundles of "fit" notes and a like number of "unfit," each bundle +containing all denominations of notes of the banks composing a single +group. In this shape the money is on the day following put in the vault +of the agency. This receptacle is a room whose massive iron walls would +not be likely to tempt burglars even in the most inviting surroundings. +It is situated in the basement of the north wing of the Treasury. The +ponderous double doors are secured by two combination locks of the most +approved construction, one of which is set and can be opened only by the +superintendent and the chief bookkeeper, and the other only by the +assorting teller and his assistant. There is, besides, on the outer door +a chronometer lock which would defy the efforts of all those officials +together, and of all other persons whatsoever until the appointed hour +when the vault is to be opened in the ordinary course of business. Along +the interior of the walls are compartments in which are stored redeemed +notes, those of each group by themselves, until they shall be removed +for assortment by individual banks. The vault usually contains about ten +millions of dollars. The money which we have followed thus far is packed +into a cart and hauled into this place, where it is deposited group by +group with the rest. + +It is customary to assort the currency of from one to four groups by +banks each day. Let us follow rapidly one of these groups through the +remainder of the processes. The money of a group accumulated from day to +day in the vault is in the morning transported to the assorting room, +where it is delivered to the second assortment teller. By him the +bundles are opened, the inventory verified, and the packages separated +by denominations, reference being had in this process to the upper note +of each package. The packages of each denomination are then strapped +together by means of cardboards and rubber bands, and the group number, +the denomination, and the amount marked upon each bundle. Next morning +the money is delivered in this shape to the second assorters. + +It will be understood that each of these persons thus receives notes of +a single denomination issued by from forty to sixty banks. The second +assorter first counts his money to be sure of the amount, and then +assorts the notes into his till in the manner already described, +putting, however, only the notes of one bank into a box. For his +guidance each assorter is provided with a printed list of the banks +composing his group, the number of the box assigned to each being set +opposite to the title. For convenience of handling about the tills, +these lists are mounted upon thick cardboards. The existence of stolen +notes or counterfeits on a bank is noted upon these lists, and special +directions for assortment are conveyed in the same manner. When a bank +is in liquidation or is withdrawing part of its circulation, an "I," +denoting "inactive," is set opposite the title. The notes of such banks +are thrown together into box 52, and from this circumstance are known in +the nomenclature of the office as "52's." These are counted together and +put up in packages by means of orange-colored straps, properly marked +for delivery, through a regular channel, to another division of the +Treasurer's office, where the money is assorted and destroyed and the +amount retired from circulation. At present more than half the banks of +some groups are on the inactive list, and notwithstanding the clamor +from the West for more paper currency, that part of the country is in +the lead in the contraction which is rapidly going on. Of the Chicago +banks, the notes of all but three have been ordered to be destroyed and +withdrawn as they are redeemed, and in St. Louis and St. Paul only a few +banks remain on the active list. Of the eastern cities, New York alone +is pursuing the same line of policy to any considerable extent, more +than half the banks there being either liquidating or reducing their +circulation. The motives which induce this step in the case of solvent +and unembarrassed institutions are diverse; but the effect is always the +same. The amount of currency retired in this manner ranges ordinarily +from twenty thousand to a hundred thousand dollars a day. + +The labor of assorting finished, the clerk's next duty is to count up +the money of each bank. In doing this he examines each note to be sure +that they all bear the same title. In some groups great care is +required to ensure correctness in this process. For instance, a clerk +will tell you that there are Springfield banks in every State in the +Union. He exaggerates a little, but group 38 is nevertheless the _bete +noir_ of the assorting room. In the second assortment, as in the first, +even hundreds of dollars make a full package. Notes of active banks are +pinned up, the "fit" in blue straps and the "unfit" in green, each +package marked with the group number, the bank number, the amount, the +assorter's signature, and the date. Notes wrongly grouped are thrown +together and put up in white straps, for return next day to the first +assorter. "Odds" are enveloped in yellow or pink straps, accordingly as +they are "unfit" or "fit," and are ultimately put in the vault until +the group is next brought up for assortment. When the contents of a +till have all been counted out, the assorter's cash is in the four +items of full packages of notes of active banks, "52's," "errors" of +first assortment, and "odds." The money of each of these items is +strapped up in a bundle properly marked, and the amounts entered in the +book. Delivery is made to the second assortment teller in a manner +similar to that already described. + +Of course, in a room where one or two millions of dollars are handled +daily, rigid discipline is required to prevent loss through carelessness +or peculation. A clerk on leaving his till must lock up his money. No +assorter is allowed to leave the room during business hours except on a +pass, to be taken up by the doorkeeper. This is obtained from the +superintendent of assorters, who, before issuing it, examines the till +of the applicant to see that everything is in shape. Slips of paper, +perforated by a punch, are the sops which placate the Cerberus of the +agency. Each assorter is provided with a card on which are printed two +sets of numbers, from one to thirty-one, and a certificate that the +holder's cash was properly balanced and his till in order at the close +of business on the day of the month last punched. On this card the +teller, after examining the assorter's money, makes one punch, and the +superintendent of assorters another, after a minute inspection of the +till and its surroundings. Thus the assorter receives the only passport +on which he may leave the office for the day. In the afternoon, when all +the money handled has been deposited in the safes, the superintendent of +the agency makes a tour of all the rooms. The safes are then closed, and +finally the Treasurer tries all the locks. + +The work of the second assortment is by most clerks pretty easily +learned, and upon this beginners are usually placed. The mechanical +difficulties are, however, the same as those already noticed in +connection with the first assortment; and speed can be acquired only by +long and diligent practice. The agency offers few attractive positions +to a clerk, whatever his grade. Currency long in circulation becomes so +mutilated as to be difficult to handle. It is soiled and dusty, and +often emits the most disgusting smells. One memorable shipment of +several millions from San Francisco still lingers in the recollection of +the unfortunate clerks, who spit and sneezed over the filthy mass. The +notes were begrimed with every soil of the Pacific slope, and made +odorous by association with every species of vice and uncleanliness to +which human flesh is subject. The labor of the assorter and counter, +even at the best, is severe and unpleasant; while from motives of +economy the task is heaped up to the maximum and the pay cut down to the +minimum. + +The next process after assortment is to "make up" all the packages of +all denominations into bundles, each containing only notes of a single +bank. For this purpose the currency of active banks is delivered from +the assorters through the teller to a "maker-up" who takes an inventory. +Next day he assorts the packages of a group in a till similar to those +already described, except that it is laid flat upon a low counter. Then +he takes the contents of a box, ascertains, by examining the upper note +of each package, that the money is all the issue of a single bank, and +writes in ink upon a blank label the title of the bank, the amount of +each denomination, and the total of all, signs and dates this, and +straps it upon the bundle. Having emptied all the boxes of his till in +this manner, he prepares a list of the amount of each bank's money made +up, and verifies his work by comparing the footing with the total +charged to him on the previous evening. This list is delivered to the +bookkeepers, and upon it the accounts of the agency are based. From +motives of saving in express charges, when the total of a bank's +currency in the till is less than five hundred dollars, the money is not +made up, but thrown aside as "odds," together with all excess over even +thousands of dollars, when such excess is less than five hundred. These +"odds" are returned, after account, to the vault. The work of making up +employs from two to four persons constantly. Absolute correctness is of +high importance, and great painstaking is required. Even a moment's +relaxation of attention is likely to produce an error which, if not +discovered, would involve the misplacement of hundreds or thousands of +dollars. Fortunately, the system of checks and proofs is so thorough +that all errors are discovered unfailingly, and the consequences +confined to the agency. The different colored straps noticed in use for +packages are but one feature of a general scheme by which currency in +the office is made to indicate, at a glance, its description, proper +place, and future course. The possibility of error or confusion in large +amounts is thus reduced to the last degree. And minute precautions will +hardly be deemed superfluous, when it is considered that all the +processes described in this article are going on simultaneously every +day at the heaped-up tills and counters. + +On leaving the hands of the maker-up, the money is taken to the +proving-room. Here the bundles are distributed among a force of women, +who recount all the notes for the purpose of verifying the amount, the +description, and the assortment. If, among the notes of a bank, is found +one of another, the estray is exchanged, through the superintendent of +assorters, for a note of the proper description. The prover, having +ascertained that her money is correct according to the accompanying +label, puts her initials to the latter, as well as upon each package of +notes, wraps and ties the bundle, and carries it to a table, where, in +her presence, the knots are sealed. First, however, the unfit notes are +cancelled by removing a triangular piece from each of the lower corners. +This is done by means of a knife, which is moved by hand with a lever, +which easily cuts through two hundred notes at a time. The sealed +packages are then put in the hands of the delivery clerk. At his counter +the fit parcels are enveloped in a stout outside wrapper and directed to +the various banks whose notes are contained in each. In this shape these +parcels are taken to the office of the Adams Express Company for +shipment. The unfit notes are delivered to the Comptroller of the +Currency, by whose clerks they are again counted. When there is no +longer any possibility of incorrectness either in the amount or the +description, orders are made out for the issue of new currency, and the +redeemed notes are carried to the basement of the Treasury, where they +are put in a machine and reduced to pulp. This product is sold to paper +makers, who, in consideration of its quality, are willing to buy it at a +good price. There is a possibility, therefore, that the banker who +several months ago forwarded his shipment of currency for redemption, +may have the substance of his note return to him in these pages, bearing +this account of the experiences of the journey. + +FRANK W. LAUTZ. + + + + +UNKNOWN PERSONS. + + +I was wandering through the Uffizi gallery in Florence one day, with my +guide-book open in my hand, when I met the subjects of this story. They +were by a large window, nine of them, framed in a little gilt frame a +foot or so square. I looked at them, and then, by force of habit, I +looked at the guide-book. "Portraits of nine unknown persons," it said. +I went nearer and looked at them again, and after that I saw the +guide-book no more. They were not portraits or unknown persons, but nine +new friends who told me the story of their lives as I stood by the +window gazing. + +There were eight brothers of them, of a noble family, and dwelling in +happy Tuscany. They lived in the country. Their mother was dead--died +when Barnaba first opened his wondering eyes at her. Their father was a +student, and loved his boys, and his books, and nature, and determined +to keep them all together. "If we live in town," he said, "I can't do +this; I am not very rich, so I will remain in my country home, and my +boys and I will have a life of our own." Such a merry, merry life as the +boys had together. Everything was turned to play for them, even their +studies. Their principal delight was acting, and in their little plays, +queer compounds of Grecian dramas and childish dreams, each one had his +regular part. It was Pietro who was always the main figure, made the +grandest speeches, and prayed the longest prayers--for they had +religious dramas sometimes--and strutted around the most. They made +Giuseppe their hero for all that, carried him in on their shoulders from +battle, and crowned him with laurel at the end of the fourth act +regularly. Domenico played the scholar: he had so grave an air, so +learned a mien. Guido was the soldier boy. Let him but throw his cap on +his wavy hair, or toss his coat over his shoulder and strut upon the +mimic stage, and you would have sworn he was armed to the teeth, and +that you could hear the click of his spurs. + +How Barnaba loved Guido! How he would twirl his long hair over his +finger secretly, hoping 'twould wave, and try to strut in on the stage +heroically too. But he was sure to blunder a bit, poor Barnaba. He was +the youngest, you see, and had poor parts given him that he didn't suit. +He was not meant for a page, and sometimes, while Pietro would strut +around and puff and declaim, little Barnaba was clenching his nervous +hands tightly behind him, and longing that he might speak out like a man +too. But no one ever dreamed that the stiff little page, with the long +hair and the wondering eyes, had any wishes other than to make a good +page. For Barnaba had a firm mouth, spite of the tremble at the corners, +and it was always readier to shut than to open. + +The other three boys, Luigi, Leonardo, and Leone, were good boys and +happy boys, but they were by nature "the populace." They were always +ready to come in on the stage as "the excited crowd" or "the hooting +rabble." They threw up their hats and cried, "Si, si" splendidly, but +then they would cry, "No, no" just as well if it was their part to do +so. So you can see they made a capital populace. Very near them, in a +beautiful villa, there lived for a while in the summer time, once a +little girl. Henrighetta she was called by her friends, but the boys' +father bade them call her la signorina, "because," said he, "it is well +to respect women." "But Henrighetta is only a little girl," said +Barnaba. "Pshaw, she'll be a woman some day," laughed Guido, and twirled +on his toes, "and I'll be a man." And he pulled away at some very +make-believe moustaches, and raised his eyebrows until even his grave +father laughed. For at this time Guido was only eleven and Barnaba +seven. Pietro, the eldest--he was seventeen--very aged indeed, the lads +thought. So Henrighetta became their playmate. + +Shortly before she left the villa they had a great play. It was the best +they had ever had. There was a prologue and an epilogue, written and +spoken by Pietro, and ever so much shouting, and a very bloody scene in +which Guido rescued Henrighetta from the ruffians, who were being led by +a traitor page (Barnaba, of course) to kill her for her jewels. "Luigi," +said Barnaba, "I hate to be mean, even in a play. I wish you would be +the page and let me be a ruffian." Then Luigi laughed hard, and told his +brothers. And they said, "Fancy Barnaba a ruffian," and laughed until +poor Barnaba looked sadder than ever. "Oh, you'll make a real good page, +and you know you have to kiss Henrighetta's long dress," said Guido, as +he whittled a little gun. "So I will," said Barnaba, and was quite +happy. + +Now, really Henrighetta was a good deal like other girls, not very +pretty or very wise, but fresh and happy. But with the eight boys she +was a queen indeed--dared even to speak threateningly to Pietro, though +she was but ten years old, and stamped her foot one day at Guido. Oh, +how vexed he was! Yet she was always kind to Barnaba, and on the night +of the play bade him kiss her hand instead of her dress, if he wished. +It was very inappropriate, but Barnaba thought it angelic, and imprinted +just the most serious and tender kiss on Henrighetta's chubby fingers at +the moment when Guido carried her off from her terrible fate. They had +quite an audience that night. Henrighetta's friends were many, and they +all said how beautifully she looked when she was married to Guido at the +close of the play, as she was, of course, with Pietro for a cardinal and +Barnaba as page, to hold up my lady's train. + +Well, the boys grew up, and though they wandered off to see the world +and study, they found their way home often and often. Barnaba alone +stayed there all the while. He grew of use to his father in writing, +became his private secretary, and seemed to be as much a part of the +home as the olive grove near by, or the long, shaded walks he loved so +well. Barnaba's hair was as straight as ever, and his white collar grew +crumpled sooner than it ought, and he looked as if he belonged somewhere +else. Observing people wondered sometimes, but only a little, and +Barnaba's brothers would have told you he was a shy, good boy, and his +father would have said the same, and I dare say Barnaba himself might +have replied a little in like manner, had he replied at all. But Barnaba +did not talk much. He read, and dreamed, and walked in the woods. +Sometimes at evening he would take off his cap, and the wind would blow +his hair, and a light would burn in his eyes, and you would have +thought, "Barnaba will do something surely." But he never did. + +It was in the summer time, twelve years later than the play time, that +Henrighetta came again to the villa. It was a little dull for her, for +all the boys were away from home but Giuseppe and Barnaba. Giuseppe was +older and angelic. He went to see the poor, and he had written a +beautiful book about the Cross, and he slept in a little room on a hard +bed, and said his prayers a great deal. His brothers would cross +themselves often in speaking of him. "Giuseppe is a holy man," they +would say. There was a verse in Giuseppe's book that Barnaba loved. He +said it often to himself. It was this: "There is a road, and the name of +it is Patience; the flowers that grow by it are few, but they are very +sweet; and if you pluck them and weave them into a crown, the fragrance +shall last for ever." + +Barnaba was in the woods one day, saying these words softly to himself, +when the lady Henrighetta approached. She was dressed all in white, and +Barnaba thought her very beautiful and proud. Yet she spoke so sweetly +to him. "Are you not my old friend Barnaba?" she asked. Had he been +patient, and had he plucked one of the rare sweet flowers? It seemed so, +truly. She spoke so sweetly, and she smiled at him, and she seated +herself by him. "I am going to make a wreath for myself," she said, +"while my father talks to your brother near by, and you shall get me +flowers and tell me about your brothers--where you all are and what you +are doing." Such dainty commands! How Barnaba flew for the flowers! How +oddly he looked with his long hair flowing, and his eager hands +clutching up the sweetest herbs, and grasses, and blossoms, all for her. +"May I make your wreath?" he said, for Barnaba knew well what flowers +loved each other. + +What a happy Barnaba! How the sun shone, and the trees whispered that +day, and how she talked to him, told him of all the years, of her +travels, for she had seen much, and he sat and listened, and wove the +flowers together, and watched her white hands and her full, soft throat. +And after the lady Henrighetta talked she sang a little. It was such a +fair day, so dreamy, and shady, and restful. She sang scraps of old +Italian songs. When Barnaba had finished the wreath he handed it to her +to place upon her head. "What shall I give you for this?" she said, and +held out her hand. It was only a moment, yet it was a long enough moment +to have placed a kiss upon it, and Barnaba was a man, and Barnaba longed +to do it, but did he dare? While he wondered Giuseppe and her father +joined them, and they all walked home to Henrighetta's together, talking +of the olden times. Then they bade her good-by. She lingered at the +doorway to watch them go. Barnaba looked back once and saw her standing +there, all in white, with the wreath he had made crowning her dark hair. +"And the fragrance shall last for ever," he whispered so softly that +Giuseppe did not hear. + +The next day Guido came home. He was a real soldier now, with spurs and +a jaunty cloak, and such a twinkle in his eye and swing in his walk and +laugh in his voice that you longed to see him enter the room, and wished +for him to speak--not that he said so much, but he said it so well. The +quiet home was always changed when Guido arrived. Merry songs were heard +all over the house, horns, and racings, and laughter. And this time +Guido was more than ever gay. He and the lady Henrighetta grew to be +great friends. They would ride and walk, and although there were always +people with them, they seemed to talk for each other all the time, and +to smile for each other all the time. Every one saw it and smiled +too--every one but Barnaba. He was very busy during this while with his +father, correcting proofs for a new book on archaeology. + +It was not until twelve long days had gone by that he again saw the lady +Henrighetta. Then he went over one evening to her father's villa, "where +we are to have some plays as we used to do," said Guido. Barnaba's heart +beat hard, and he longed to see the lady Henrighetta again. She was +getting ready for the play. "Barnaba, you are to be page, please," said +Guido, "and hold my lady's train." So Barnaba was page, and the play +began. There were many strange faces and voices in it, and it was a +studied play, each part learned by rote. It did not seem like old times +at all. Barnaba began to feel very far away, when suddenly he was called +to where the lady Henrighetta was, and bidden to follow her as her page. +She greeted him kindly. "All you have to do is to stand by my side," she +said. To stand by her side! And then the curtain rose again, and the +lady Henrighetta, clad in regal robes, sailed forward, and Barnaba, clad +as a page, followed her meekly and stood at her side. + +What a little hum there was when she appeared! and when Guido strode +rapidly in toward her and pressed her passionately, how the applause +rang! It was an intense scene, and Guido seemed intensely in earnest. +"How well he plays," thought Barnaba. Then, as Guido looked at +Henrighetta and Henrighetta really blushed a little and dropped her +eyelids, Barnaba's soul rose. It was a strong soul; it was a man's soul; +and it was in a white heat of rage now. If he, the page, had but a sword +to kill him, the lover! Just then he heard a little whisper which the +others did not hear. It was too low. Guido had said, not "Leonora, mia +cara," as the play said, but "Henrighetta, mia cara." There was a sudden +movement on the stage. It was the page who had turned quickly, +frantically. He had nearly reached the door when he turned again and +came back, white but firm, with a strange smile on his lip, and resumed +his place. Guido swore. The pretty tableau was spoiled. I am afraid even +my lady sighed softly, but Barnaba did not know that. She had told him +to stand by her side, and her command must be obeyed. + +The scene over, however, Barnaba rushed from the house, out into the +fresh air. He turned and gazed back through the window. There they stood +together, side by side, smiling, happy, Guido and Henrighetta, and here +was poor Barnaba, still in the trappings of livery, with his heart all +torn in his hands. Out in the darkness he dropped his head toward the +earth. Giuseppe saw the face, and came toward him. "What is it, +brother?" asked he softly. "What have you lost?" Barnaba looked up at +him. His brave, firm lips trembled once. "My life," he said; "I have +lost my life." There was a silence. "He that loseth his life shall find +it," said Giuseppe. "These are the words of the Lord." And the two +brothers crossed themselves and walked homeward together in silence. + +It was six months after, at the time of the wedding, that the portrait +was painted. Giuseppe is in the centre. The brothers all said 'twas his +place. Pietro has his cowl over his head, you see, but he is fat and +hearty for all that. Domenico leans on a book, as ever, and the populace +smile pleasantly and in a well-bred manner. Guido and his wife are side +by side--the daring, jaunty, happy man and his high-born, full-throated, +soft-eyed wife. And where is Barnaba? Just over her. Below her, even in +the picture, he should have been, he thinks, and beside her, never, but +once, in a play. Dear, poor, brave Barnaba! He has changed in the six +months. His collar is as twisted, his hair as long and straight, and his +eyes as full of wonder; but there are two new turns to his lips--smiling +turns. "I've lost," they seem to say, "and I might have won. Life has +treated me poorly, but I owe her no grudge. Guido and his wife have gone +away. Giuseppe is visiting the poor. Pietro is at his priestly +work--what is it? The others are back in their lives." Barnaba walks in +the grove alone, and repeats to himself: "There is a road, and the name +of it is Patience. The flowers that grow by it are few, but they are +very sweet; and if you pluck them and weave them into a crown, the +fragrance shall last forever." And Barnaba smiles. + +MARY MURDOCH MASON. + + + + +THE DEAD STAR. + + + Yonder in empty dark + Wanders, somewhere, a wasted sun, whose light, + Erst breathed abroad with life-creating spark, + Made hanging gardens of the circling night. + + Through Time's dark emptiness + Some soul, that genius lit, goes, withered, wan, + Its flame to blackness fallen, purposeless-- + The dead star wanders with the fire-spent man! + +JOHN JAMES PIATT. + + + + +THE LONDON THEATRES. + + +A person taking up his residence in a foreign city is apt, I think, to +become something of a playgoer. In the first place he is usually more +or less isolated, and in the absence of complex social ties the +theatres help him to pass his evenings. But more than this, they offer +him a good deal of interesting evidence upon the manners and customs of +the people among whom he has come to dwell. They testify to the +civilization around him, and throw a great deal of light upon the ways +of thinking, feeling, and behaving of the community. If this exotic +spectator to whom I allude is a person of a really attentive +observation, he may extract such evidence in very large quantities. It +is furnished not by the stage alone, but by the _theatre_ in a larger +sense of the word: by the audience, the attendants, the arrangements, +the very process of getting to the playhouse. The English stage of +to-day, of which I more particularly speak, certainly holds the mirror +as little as possible up to nature--to any nature, at least, usually +recognized in the British islands. Nine-tenths of the plays performed +upon it are French originals, subjected to the mysterious process of +"adaptation"; marred as French pieces and certainly not mended as +English; transplanted from the Gothic soil into a chill and neutral +region where they bloom hardly longer than a handful of cut flowers +stuck into moist sand. They cease to have any representative value as +regards French manners, and they acquire none as regards English; they +belong to an order of things which has not even the merit of being +"conventional," but in which barbarism, chaos, and crudity hold +undisputed sway. The English drama of the last century deserved the +praise, in default of any higher, of being "conventional"; for there +was at least a certain method in its madness; it had its own ideal, its +own foolish logic and consistency. But he would be wise who should be +able to indicate the ideal, artistic and intellectual, of the English +drama of today. It is violently and hopelessly irresponsible. When one +says "English drama" one uses the term for convenience' sake; one means +simply the plays that are acted at the London theatres and transferred +thence to the American. They are neither English nor a drama; they have +not that minimum of ponderable identity at which appreciation finds a +starting-point. As the metaphysicians say, they are simply not +cognizable. And yet in spite of all this, the writer of these lines has +ventured to believe that the London theatres are highly characteristic +of English civilization. The plays testify indirectly if not directly +to the national manners, and the whole system on which play-going is +conducted completes the impression which the pieces make upon the +observer. One can imagine, indeed, nothing more characteristic than +such a fact as that a theatre-going people is hopelessly destitute of a +drama. + +I ventured a month ago to record in these pages a few reminiscences of +the Comedie Francaise; and I have a sort of feeling that my readers may, +in the light of my present undertaking, feel prompted to accuse me of a +certain levity. There is a want of delicacy, they may say, in speaking +of the first theatre in the world one day and of the London stage the +next. You must choose, and if you talk about one, you forfeit the right +to talk about the other. But I think there is something to be done in +the way of talking about both, and at all events there are few things it +is not fair to talk about if one does so with a serious desire to +understand. Removing lately from Paris to the British metropolis, I +received a great many impressions--a sort of unbroken chain, in which +the reflections passing through my fancy as I tried the different +orchestra-stalls were the concluding link. The impressions of which I +speak were impressions of outside things--the things with which in a +great city one comes first into contact. I supposed that I had gathered +them once for all in earlier years; but I found that the edge of one's +observation, unlike that of other trenchant instruments, grows again if +one leaves it alone. Remain a long time in any country, and you come to +accept the manners and customs of that country as the standard of +civilization--the normal type. Other manners and customs, even if they +spring from the same soil from which you yourself have sprung, acquire +by contrast an unreasonable, a violent, but often a picturesque relief. +To what one may call a continentalized vision the aspect of English life +seems strange and entertaining; while an Anglicized perception finds, +beyond the narrow channel, even greater matter for wonderment. + +The writer of these lines brought with him, at the outset of a dusky +London winter, a continentalized, and perhaps more particularly a +Parisianized, fancy. It was wonderful how many things that I should have +supposed familiar and commonplace seemed strikingly salient and typical, +and how I found, if not sermons in stones and good in everything, at +least examples in porter-pots and reflections in coal-scuttles. In +writing the other day of the Theatre Francais, I spoke of M. Francisque +Sarcey, the esteemed dramatic critic; of the serious and deliberate way +in which he goes to work--of the distance from which he makes his +approaches. During the first weeks I was in London, especially when I +had been to the play the night before, I kept saying to myself that M. +Francisque Sarcey ought to come over and "do" the English theatres. +There are of course excellent reasons why he should not. In the first +place, it is safe to assume that he comprehends not a word of English; +and in the second, it is obligatory to believe that he would, in the +vulgar phrase, not be able to "stand" it. He would probably pronounce +the English stage hopelessly and unmitigably bad and beneath criticism, +and hasten back to Delaunay and Sarah Bernhardt. But if we could suppose +him to fight it out, and give the case a hearing, what a solid +dissertation we should have upon it afterward at the bottom of the +"Temps" newspaper! How he would go into the causes of the badness, and +trace its connections with English civilization! How earnestly he would +expatiate and how minutely he would explain; how fervently he would +point the moral and entreat his fellow countrymen not to be as the +English are lest they should lapse into histrionic barbarism! + +I felt, to myself, during these days, in a small way, very much like a +Francisque Sarcey; I don't mean as to the gloominess of my conclusions, +but as to the diffusiveness of my method. A spectator with his senses +attuned to all those easy Parisian harmonies feels himself, in London, +to be in a place in which the drama cannot, in the nature of things, +have a vigorous life. Before he has put his feet into a theatre he is +willing to bet his little all that the stage will turn out to be weak. +If he is challenged for the reasons of this precipitate skepticism, he +will perhaps be at loss to give them; he will only say, "Oh, I don't +know, _cela se seut_. Everything I see is a reason. I don't look out of +the window, I don't ring the bell for some coals, I don't go into an +eating-house to dine, without seeing a reason." And then he will begin +to talk about the duskiness and oppressiveness of London; about the +ugliness of everything that one sees; about beauty and grace being +never attempted, or attempted here and there only to be wofully missed; +about the visible, palpable Protestantism; about the want of expression +in people's faces; about the plainness and dreariness of everything +that is public and the inaccessibility of everything that is private; +about the lower classes being too miserable to know the theatre, and +the upper classes too "respectable" to understand it. + +And here, if the audacious person we are conceiving is very far gone, +he will probably begin to talk about English "hypocrisy" and prudery, +and to say that these are the great reason of the feebleness of the +stage. When he approaches the question of English "hypocrisy" you may +know that he is hopelessly Gallicized, or Romanized, or Germanized, or +something of that sort; and indeed his state of mind at this point +strikes me myself with a certain awe. I don't venture to follow him, +and I discreetly give up the attempt. But up to this point I can see +what he may have meant, in the midst of his flippancy, and I remember +how to my own imagination at first everything seemed to hang together, +and theatres to be what they were because somehow the streets, and +shops, and hotels, and eating-houses were what they were. I remember +something I said to myself after once witnessing a little drama of real +life at a restaurant. The restaurant in question is in Piccadilly, and +I am trying to think under which of the categories of our Gallicized +observer it would come. The remarkable facade, covered with gilded +mosaics and lamps, is certainly a concession to the idea of beauty; +though whether it is a successful one is another question. Within it +has, besides various other resources, one of those peculiar refectories +which are known in England as grill-rooms, and which possess the +picturesque feature of a colossal gridiron, astride of a corresponding +fire, on which your chops and steaks are toasted before your eyes. A +grill-room is a bad place to dine, but it is a convenient place to +lunch. It always contains a number of tables, which accommodate not +less than half a dozen persons; small tables of the proper dimensions +for a _tete-a-tete_ being, for inscrutable reasons, wholly absent from +English eating-houses. + +The grill-room in question is decorated in that style of which the +animus is to be agreeable to Mr. William Morris, though I suspect that +in the present application of his charming principles he would find a +good deal of base alloy. At any rate, the apartment contains a number +of large medallions in blue pottery, pieced together, representing the +heathen gods and goddesses, whose names are inscribed in crooked +letters in an unexpected part of the picture. This is quite the thing +that one would expect to find in one of those cloisters or pleasances, +or "pleached gardens," in which Mr. Morris's Gothic heroines drag their +embroidered petticoats up and down, as slow-pacedly as their poet +sings. Only, in these pretty, dilettantish cloisters there would +probably be no large tickets suspended alongside of the pictorial +pottery, inscribed with the monstrous words, _Tripe! Suppers!_ This is +one of those queer eruptions of plainness and homeliness which one +encounters at every turn in the midst of the massive luxury and general +expensiveness of England--like the big, staring announcement, _Beds_, +in the coffee-house windows, or _Well-aired Beds_ painted on the side +walls of taverns; or like a list of labels which I noticed the other +day on a series of japanned boxes in a pastry-cook's shop. They seemed +to me so characteristic that I made a note of them. + +The reason of my being in the pastry-cook's shop was my having +contracted in Paris the harmless habit of resorting to one of these +establishments at the luncheon hour, for the purpose of consuming a +little _gateau_. Resuming this innocent practice on English soil, I +found it attended with serious difficulties--the chief of which was +that there were no _gateaux_ to consume. An appreciative memory of +those brightly mirrored little shops on the Paris boulevards, in which +tender little tarts, in bewildering variety, are dispensed to you by a +neat-waisted _patissiere_, cast a dusky shadow over the big buns and +"digestive biscuits" which adorn the counter of an English bakery. But +it takes a good while to eat a bun, and while you stand there solemnly +disintegrating your own, you may look about you in search of the +characteristic. In Paris the pastry-cooks' shops are, as the French +say, coquettish--as coquettish as the elegant simplicity of plate +glass, discreet gilding, polished brass, and a demonstrative _dame de +comptoir_ can make them. In London they are not coquettish--witness +the grim nomenclature alluded to above; it was distributed over a +series of green tin cases, ranged behind the counters: Tops and +bottoms--royal digestives--arrow-root--oat-cake--rice biscuit--ratafias. + +I took my seat in the grill-room at a table at which three gentlemen +were sitting: two of them sleek British merchants, of a familiar and +highly respectable type, the other a merchant too, presumably, but +neither sleek nor British. He was evidently an American. He was a +good-looking fellow and a man of business, but I inferred from the +tentative, experimental, and even mistrustful manner with which he +addressed himself to the operation of lunching, and observed the +idiosyncrasies of the grill-room, that he found himself for the first +time in England. His experiment, however, if experiment it was, was +highly successful; he made a copious lunch and departed. He had not had +time to reach the door when I perceived one of the British merchants of +whom I just now spoke beginning to knock the table violently with his +knife-handle, and to clamor, "Waiter, waiter! Manager, manager!" The +manager and the waiter hastened to respond, while I endeavored to guess +the motive of his agitation, without connecting it with our late +companion. As I then saw him pointing eagerly to the latter, however, +who was just getting out of the door, I was seized with a mortifying +apprehension that my innocent compatriot was a dissembler and a +pickpocket, and that the English gentleman, next whom he had been +sitting, had missed his watch or his purse. "He has taken one of +these--one of these!" said the British merchant. "I saw him put it into +his pocket." And he held up a bill of fare of the establishment, a +printed card, bearing on its back a colored lithograph of the +emblazoned facade that I have mentioned. I was reassured; the poor +American had pocketed this light document with the innocent design of +illustrating his day's adventures to a sympathetic wife awaiting his +return in some musty London lodging. But the manager and the waiter +seemed to think the case grave, and their informant continued to +impress upon them that he had caught the retiring visitor in the very +act. They were at a loss to decide upon a course of action; they +thought the case was bad, but they questioned whether it was bad enough +to warrant them in pursuing the criminal. While this weighty point was +being discussed the criminal escaped, little suspecting, I imagine, the +perturbation he had caused. But the British merchant continued to +argue, speaking in the name of outraged morality. "You know he oughtn't +to have done that--it was very wrong in him to do it. That mustn't be +done, you know, and you know I ought to tell you--it was my duty to +tell you--I couldn't _but_ tell you. He oughtn't to have done it, you +know. I thought I _must_ tell you." It is not easy to point out +definitely the connection between this little episode, for the +triviality of which I apologize, and the present condition of the +English stage; but--it may have been whimsical--I thought I perceived a +connection. These people are too highly moral to be histrionic, I said; +they have too stern a sense of duty. + +The first step in the rather arduous enterprise of going to the theatre +in London is, I think, another reminder that the arts of the stage are +not really in the temperament and the manners of the people. This first +step is to go to an agency in an expensive street out of Piccadilly, +and there purchase a stall for the sum of eleven shillings. You receive +your ticket from the hands of a smooth, sleek, bottle-nosed clerk, who +seems for all the world as if he had stepped straight out of a volume +of Dickens or of Thackeray. There is almost always an old lady taking +seats for the play, with a heavy carriage in waiting at the door; the +number of old ladies whom one has to squeeze past in the stalls is in +fact very striking. "Is it good?" asks the old lady of the gentleman I +have described, with a very sweet voice and a perfectly expressionless +face. (She means the play, not the seat.) "It is thought very good, my +lady," says the clerk, as if he were uttering a "response" at church; +and my lady being served, I approach with my humbler petition. The +dearness of places at the London theatres is a sufficient indication +that play-going is not a popular amusement; three dollars is a high +price to pay for the privilege of witnessing any London performance +that I have seen. (One goes into the stalls of the Theatre Francais for +eight francs.) In the house itself everything seems to contribute to +the impression which I have tried to indicate--the impression that the +theatre in England is a social luxury and not an artistic necessity. +The white-cravatted young man who inducts you into your stall, and +having put you into possession of a programme, extracts from you, +masterly but effectually, the sixpence which, as a stranger, you have +wondered whether you might venture to give him, and which has seemed a +mockery of his grandeur--this excellent young man is somehow the +keynote of the whole affair. An English audience is as different as +possible from a French, though the difference is altogether by no means +to its disadvantage. It is much more "genteel"; it is less Bohemian, +less _blase_, more _naif_, and more respectful--to say nothing of being +made up of handsomer people. It is well dressed, tranquil, motionless; +it suggests domestic virtue and comfortable homes; it looks as if it +had come to the play in its own carriage, after a dinner of beef and +pudding. The ladies are mild, fresh colored English mothers; they all +wear caps; they are wrapped in knitted shawls. There are many rosy +young girls, with dull eyes and quiet cheeks--an element wholly absent +from Parisian audiences. The men are handsome and honorable looking; +they are in evening dress; they come with the ladies--usually with +several ladies--and remain with them; they sit still in their places, +and don't go herding out between the acts with their hats askew. +Altogether they are much more the sort of people to spend a quiet +evening with than the clever, cynical, democratic multitude that surges +nightly out of the brilliant Boulevards into those temples of the drama +in which MM. Dumas, _fils_, and Sardou are the high priests. But you +might spend your evening with them better almost anywhere than at the +theatre. + +As I said just now, they are much more _naif_ than Parisian +spectators--at least as regards being amused. They cry with much less +facility, but they laugh more freely and heartily. I remember nothing +in Paris that corresponds with the laugh of the English gallery and +pit--with its continuity and simplicity, its deep-lunged jollity and +its individual guffaws. But you feel that an English audience is +intellectually much less appreciative. A Paris audience, as regards +many of its factors, is cynical, skeptical, indifferent; it is so +intimately used to the theatre that it doesn't stand on ceremony; it +yawns, and looks away and turns its back; it has seen too much, and it +knows too much. But it has the critical and the artistic sense, when +the occasion appeals to them; it can judge and discriminate. It has the +sense of form and of manner; it heeds and cares how things are done, +even when it cares little for the things themselves. Bohemians, +artists, critics, connoisseurs--all Frenchmen come more or less under +these heads, which give the tone to a body of Parisian spectators. +These do not strike one as "nice people" in the same degree as a +collection of English patrons of the drama--though doubtless they have +their own virtues and attractions; but they form a natural, sympathetic +public, while the English audience forms only a conventional, +accidental one. It may be that the drama and other works of art are +best appreciated by people who are not "nice"; it may be that a lively +interest in such matters tends to undermine niceness; it may be that, +as the world grows nicer, various forms of art will grow feebler. All +this _may_ be; I don't pretend to say it is; the idea strikes me _en +passant_. + +In speaking of what is actually going on at the London theatres I +suppose the place of honor, beyond comparison, belongs to Mr. Henry +Irving. This gentleman enjoys an esteem and consideration which, I +believe, has been the lot of no English actor since Macready left the +stage, and he may at the present moment claim the dignity of being a +bone of contention in London society second only in magnitude to the +rights of the Turks and the wrongs of the Bulgarians. I am told that +London is divided, on the subject of his merits, into two fiercely +hostile camps; that he has sown dissension in families, and made old +friends cease to "speak." His appearance in a new part is a great event; +and if one has the courage of one's opinion, at dinner tables and +elsewhere, a conversational godsend. Mr. Irving has "created," as the +French say, but four Shakespearian parts; his Richard III. has just been +given to the world. Before attempting Hamlet, which up to this moment +has been his great success, he had attracted much attention as a +picturesque actor of melodrama, which he rendered with a refinement of +effect not common upon the English stage. Mr. Irving's critics may, I +suppose, be divided into three categories: those who justify him in +whatever he attempts, and consider him an artist of unprecedented +brilliancy; those who hold that he did very well in melodrama, but that +he flies too high when he attempts Shakespeare; and those who, in vulgar +parlance, can see nothing in him at all. + +I shrink from ranging myself in either of these divisions, and indeed I +am not qualified to speak of Mr. Irving's acting in general. I have +seen none of his melodramatic parts; I do not know him as a comedian--a +capacity in which some people think him at his best; and in his +Shakespearian repertory I have seen only his Macbeth and his Richard. +But judging him on the evidence of these two parts, I fall hopelessly +among the skeptics. Mr. Henry Irving is a very convenient illustration. +To a stranger desiring to know how the London stage stands, I should +say, "Go and see this gentleman; then tell me what you think of him." +And I should expect the stranger to come back and say, "I see what you +mean. The London stage has reached that pitch of mediocrity at which +Mr. Henry Irving overtops his fellows--Mr. Henry Irving figuring as a +great man--_c'est tout dire_." I hold that there is an essential truth +in the proverb that there is no smoke without fire. No reputations are +altogether hollow, and no valuable prizes have been easily won. Of +course Mr. Irving has a good deal of intelligence and cleverness; of +course he has mastered a good many of the mysteries of his art. But I +must nevertheless declare that for myself I have not mastered the +mystery of his success. His defects seem to me in excess of his +qualities and the lessons he has not learned more striking than the +lessons he has learned. + +That an actor so handicapped, as they say in London, by nature and +culture should have enjoyed such prosperity, is a striking proof of the +absence of a standard, of the chaotic condition of taste. Mr. Irving's +Macbeth, which I saw more than a year ago and view under the +mitigations of time, was not pronounced one of his great successes; but +it was acted, nevertheless, for many months, and it does not appear to +have injured his reputation. Passing through London, and curious to +make the acquaintance of the great English actor of the day, I went +with alacrity to see it; but my alacrity was more than equalled by the +vivacity of my disappointment. I sat through the performance in a sort +of melancholy amazement. There are barren failures and there are +interesting failures, and this performance seemed to me to deserve the +less complimentary of these classifications. It inspired me, however, +with no ill will toward the artist, for it must be said of Mr. Irving +that his aberrations are not of a vulgar quality, and that one likes +him, somehow, in spite of them. But one's liking takes the form of +making one wish that really he had selected some other profession than +the histrionic. Nature has done very little to make an actor of him. +His face is not dramatic; it is the face of a sedentary man, a +clergyman, a lawyer, an author, an amiable gentleman--of anything other +than a possible Hamlet or Othello. His figure is of the same cast, and +his voice completes the want of illusion. His voice is apparently +wholly unavailable for purposes of declamation. To say that he speaks +badly is to go too far; to my sense he simply does not speak at all--in +any way that, in an actor, can be called speaking. He does not pretend +to declaim or dream of declaiming. Shakespeare's finest lines pass from +his lips without his paying the scantiest tribute to their quality. Of +what the French call _diction_--of the art of delivery--he has +apparently not a suspicion. This forms three-fourths of an actor's +obligations, and in Mr. Irving's acting these three-fourths are simply +cancelled. What is left to him with the remaining fourth is to be +"picturesque"; and this even his partisans admit he has made his +specialty. This concession darkens Mr. Irving's prospects as a +Shakespearian actor. You can play hop-scotch on one foot, but you +cannot cut with one blade of a pair of scissors, and you cannot play +Shakespeare by being simply picturesque. Above all, before all, for +this purpose you must have the art of utterance; you must be able to +give value to the divine Shakespearian line--to make it charm our ears +as it charms our mind. It is of course by his picturesqueness that Mr. +Irving has made his place; by small ingenuities of "business" and +subtleties of action; by doing as a painter does who "goes in" for +color when he cannot depend upon his drawing. Mr. Irving's color is +sometimes pretty enough; his ingenuities and subtleties are often +felicitous; but his picturesqueness, on the whole, strikes me as dry +and awkward, and, at the best, where certain essentials are so +strikingly absent, these secondary devices lose much of their power. + +Mr. Fechter in Hamlet was preponderantly a "picturesque" actor; but he +had a certain sacred spark, a heat, a lightness and suppleness, which +Mr. Irving lacks; and though, with his incurable foreign accent, he +could hardly be said to _declaim_ Shakespeare in any worthy sense, yet +on the whole he spoke his part with much more of the positively +agreeable than can possibly belong to the utterance of Mr. Irving. His +speech, with all its fantastic Gallicisms of sound, was less foreign +and more comprehensible than that strange tissue of arbitrary +pronunciations which floats in the thankless medium of Mr. Irving's +harsh, monotonous voice. Richard III. is of all Shakespeare's parts the +one that can perhaps best dispense with declamation, and in which the +clever inventions of manner and movement in which Mr. Irving is +proficient will carry the actor furthest. Accordingly, I doubt not, Mr. +Irving is seen to peculiar advantage in this play; it is certainly a +much better fit for him than Macbeth. He has had the good taste to +discard the vulgar adaptation of Cibber, by which the stage has so long +been haunted, and which, I believe, is played in America to the +complete exclusion of the original drama. I believe that some of the +tenderest Shakespearians refuse to admit the authenticity of "Richard +III."; they declare that the play has, with all its energy, a sort of +intellectual grossness, of which the author of "Hamlet" and "Othello" +was incapable. This same intellectual grossness is certainly very +striking; the scene of Richard's wooing of Lady Ann is a capital +specimen of it. But here and there occur passages which, when one hears +the play acted, have all the vast Shakespearian sense of effect. + + ----To hear the piteous moans that Edward made + When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him. + +It is hard to believe that Shakespeare did not write that. And when +Richard, after putting an end to Clarence, comes into Edward IV.'s +presence, with the courtiers ranged about, and announces hypocritically +that Providence has seen fit to remove him, the situation is marked by +one or two speeches which are dramatic as Shakespeare alone is dramatic. +The immediate exclamation of the Queen-- + + All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +--followed by that of one of the gentlemen-- + + Look _I_ so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +--such touches as these, with their inspired vividness, seem to belong +to the brushwork of the master. Mr. Irving gives the note of his +performance in his first speech--the famous soliloquy upon "the winter +of our discontent." His delivery of these lines possesses little but +hopeless staginess and mannerism. It seems indeed like staginess gone +mad. The spectator rubs his eyes and asks himself whether he has not +mistaken his theatre, and stumbled by accident upon some prosperous +burlesque. It is fair to add that Mr. Irving is here at his worst, the +scene offering him his most sustained and exacting piece of +declamation. But the way he renders it is the way he renders the whole +part--slowly, draggingly, diffusively, with innumerable pauses and +lapses, and without a hint of the rapidity, the intensity and _entrain_ +which are needful for carrying off the improbabilities of so explicit +and confidential a villain and so melodramatic a hero. + +Just now, when a stranger in London asks where the best acting is to be +seen, he receives one of two answers. He is told either at the Prince +of Wales's theatre or at the Court. Some people think that the last +perfection is to be found at the former of these establishments, others +at the latter. I went first to the Prince of Wales's, of which I had a +very pleasant memory from former years, and I was not disappointed. The +acting is very pretty indeed, and this little theatre doubtless +deserves the praise which is claimed for it, of being the best +conducted English stage in the world. It is, of course, not the Comedie +Francaise; but, equally of course, it is absurd talking or thinking of +the Comedie Francaise in London. The company at the Prince of Wales's +play with a finish, a sense of detail, what the French call an +_ensemble_, and a general good grace, which deserve explicit +recognition. The theatre is extremely small, elegant, and expensive, +the company is very carefully composed, and the scenery and stage +furniture lavishly complete. It is a point of honor with the Prince of +Wales's to have nothing that is not "real." In the piece now running at +this establishment there is a representation of a boudoir very +delicately appointed, the ceiling of which is formed by festoons of old +lace suspended tent fashion or pavilion fashion. This lace, I am told, +has been ascertained, whether by strong opera glasses or other modes of +inquiry I know not, to be genuine, ancient, and costly. This is the +very pedantry of perfection, and makes the scenery somewhat better than +the actors. If the tendency is logically followed out, we shall soon be +having Romeo drink real poison and Medea murder a fresh pair of babes +every night. + +The Prince of Wales's theatre, when it has once carefully mounted a +play, "calculates," I believe, to keep it on the stage a year. The play +of the present year is an adaptation of one of Victorien Sardou's +cleverest comedies--"Nos Intimes"--upon which the title of "Peril" has +been conferred. Of the piece itself there is nothing to be said; it is +the usual hybrid drama of the contemporary English stage--a firm, neat +French skeleton, around which the drapery of English conversation has +been adjusted in awkward and inharmonious folds. The usual feat has been +attempted--to extirpate "impropriety" and at the same time to save +interest. In the extraordinary manipulation and readjustment of French +immoralities which goes on in the interest of Anglo-Saxon virtue, I have +never known this feat to succeed. Propriety may have been saved, in an +awkward, floundering, in-spite-of-herself fashion, which seems to do to +something in the mind a violence much greater than the violence it has +been sought to avert; but interest has certainly been lost. The only +immorality I know on the stage is the production of an ill-made play; +and a play is certainly ill made when the pointedness of the framework +strikes the spectator as a perpetual mockery upon the flatness of the +"developments." M. Sardou's perfectly improper but thoroughly +homogeneous comedy has been flattened and vulgarized in the usual way; +the pivot of naughtiness on which the piece turns has been "whittled" +down to the requisite tenuity; the wicked little Jack-in-the-Box has +popped up his head only just in time to pull it back again. The +interest, from being intense, has become light, and the play, from being +a serious comedy, with a flavor of the tragic, has become an elaborate +farce, salted with a few coarse grains of gravity. It is probable, +however, that if "Peril" were more serious, it would be much less +adequately played. + +The Prince of Wales's company contains in the person of Miss Madge +Robertson (or Mrs. Kendal, as I believe she is nowadays called) the most +agreeable actress on the London stage. This lady is always pleasing, and +often charming; but she is more effective in gentle gayety than in +melancholy or in passion. Another actor at the Prince of Wales's--Mr. +Arthur Cecil--strikes me as an altogether superior comedian. He plays in +"Peril" (though I believe he is a young man) the part of a selfish, +cantankerous, querulous, jaundiced old East Indian officer, who has come +down to a country house to stay, under protest, accompanied by his only +son, a stripling in roundabouts, whom he is bringing up in ignorance of +the world's wickedness, and who, finding himself in a mansion well +supplied with those books which no gentleman's library should be +without, loses no time in taking down Bocaccio's "Decameron." Mr. Arthur +Cecil represents this character to the life, with a completeness, an +extreme comicality, and at the same time a sobriety and absence of +violence which recalls the best French acting. Especially inimitable is +the tone with which he tells his host, on his arrival, how he made up +his mind to accept his invitation: "So at last I said to Percy, 'Well, +Percy, my child, we'll go down and have done with it!'" + +At the Court theatre, where they are playing, also apparently by the +year, a "revived" drama of Mr. Tom Taylor--"New Men and Old Acres"--the +acting, though very good indeed, struck me as less finished and, as a +whole, less artistic. The company contains, however, two exceptionally +good actors. One of them is Mr. Hare, who leads it, and who, although +nature has endowed him with an almost fatally meagre stage presence, has +a considerable claim to be called an artist. Mr. Hare's special line is +the quiet natural, in high life, and I imagine he prides himself upon +the propriety and good taste with which he acquits himself of those +ordinary phrases and light modulations which the usual English actor +finds it impossible to utter with any degree of verisimilitude. Mr. +Hare's companion is Miss Ellen Terry, who is usually spoken of by the +"refined" portion of the public as the most interesting actress in +London. Miss Terry is picturesque; she looks like a pre-Raphaelitish +drawing in a magazine--the portrait of the crop-haired heroine in the +illustration to the serial novel. She is intelligent and vivacious, and +she is indeed, in a certain measure, interesting. With great frankness +and spontaneity, she is at the same time singularly delicate and +lady-like, and it seems almost impertinent to criticise her harshly. But +the favor which Miss Terry enjoys strikes me, like that under which Mr. +Henry Irving has expanded, as a sort of measure of the English critical +sense in things theatrical. Miss Terry has all the pleasing qualities I +have enumerated, but she has, with them, the defect that she is simply +_not_ an actress. One sees it sufficiently in her face--the face of +a clever young Englishwoman, with a hundred merits, but not of a +dramatic artist. These things are indefinable; I can only give my +impression. + +Broadly comic acting, in England, is businesslike, and high tragedy is +businesslike; each of these extremes appears to constitute a trade--a +_metier_, as the French say--which may be properly and adequately +learned. But the acting which covers the middle ground, the acting of +serious or sentimental comedy and of scenes that may take place in +modern drawing-rooms--the acting that corresponds to the contemporary +novel of manners--seems by an inexorable necessity given over to +amateurishness. Most of the actors at the Prince of Wales's--the young +lovers, the walking and talking gentlemen, the housekeeper and young +ladies--struck me as essentially amateurish, and this is the impression +produced by Miss Ellen Terry, as well as (in an even higher degree) by +her pretty and sweet-voiced sister, who plays at the Haymarket. The art +of these young ladies is awkward and experimental; their very speech +lacks smoothness and firmness. + +I am not sorry to be relieved, by having reached the limits of my space, +from the necessity of expatiating upon one of the more recent theatrical +events in London--the presentation, at the St. James's theatre, of an +English version of "Les Danicheff." This extremely picturesque and +effective play was the great Parisian success of last winter, and during +the London season the company of the Odeon crossed the channel and +presented it with an added brilliancy. But what the piece has been +reduced to in its present form is a theme for the philosopher. Horribly +translated and badly played, it retains hardly a ray of its original +effectiveness. There can hardly have been a better example of the +possible infelicities of "adaptation." Nor have I the opportunity of +alluding to what is going on at the other London theatres, though to all +of them I have made a conscientious pilgrimage. But I conclude my very +desultory remarks without an oppressive sense of the injustice of +omission. In thinking over the plays I have listened to, my memory +arrests itself with more kindness, perhaps, than elsewhere, at the +great, gorgeous pantomime given at Drury Lane, which I went religiously +to see in Christmas week. They manage this matter of the pantomime very +well in England, and I have always thought Harlequin and Columbine the +prettiest invention in the world. (This is an "adaptation" of an Italian +original, but it is a case in which the process has been completely +successful.) But the best of the entertainment at Drury Lane was seeing +the lines of rosy child faces in the boxes, all turned toward the stage +in one round-eyed fascination. English children, however, and their +round-eyed rosiness, would demand a chapter apart. + +H. JAMES, JR. + + + + +SOUNDING BRASS. + +BEING A RIGHTE TRUTHFULL HISTORIE OF YE ANCIENT TIME. + + +"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not +charity"--which is love--"I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling +cymbal." + +It was Sergeant Wright who repeated the words thoughtfully to himself, +nearly two hundred years ago, while his gaze was riveted upon the +glowing rim and cavernous hollow of a ponderous brazen object. It was +not a bell, though there was metal enough in it to have formed a very +respectable one for the village church. + +At that early day bells were not common in New England; in the seaport +towns, that formed the colony of Plymouth, the faithful were summoned +to church by the blowing of a conch shell; at other towns there are +records of a "_peece_" being fired, or of a drummer being paid to beat +a reveille for sleepy souls. In Deerfield, where the events we are +about to chronicle took place, the practice seems to have been to +simply hoist a flag at the time appointed for public service. Any of +these means, except the drum, appears on some accounts preferable to +the modern church bell. To any one who has resided in a Catholic +country, where the ringing of bells, from matins to vespers, is +incessant, to one with recent memories of college days, of being rung +up in the morning before having his sleep out, rung to prayers before +he had finished his breakfast, rung to recitation before he had +mastered his lesson, and rung to bed before reaching the "Yours +_truly_" of his love letter, the Sabbath bell is not likely to suggest +ideas of a devotional character. After all, is it not essentially a +relic of barbarism, a pagan institution like the beating of gongs in +the Chinese ceremony of chinchinning the moon? The blowing of the conch +shell is not open to the objection of degrading association; it must +have called to mind the trumpets and rams' horns in the awe-inspiring +Hebrew ceremonial. Fancy instead of the ding-dong of sounding brass in +most village churches, that can sometimes hardly be distinguished from +the locomotive bell, the clear liquid notes of a silver bugle, similar +in character to one of the musical infantry calls, flung by the echoes +from hill to hill, and dying faintly away over the meadows and along +the river. Even the custom of firing a cannon, one great noise, heard +at the furthest boundaries of the parish, and then done with, would be +better than the continual repetition of the strokes of a bell, now +violent and quick, as though calling out all the hose and hook and +ladder companies of the fire department, now slowly dying away, +tantalizing the listener with the expectation that now at last they are +really going to cease, only to bitterly disappoint him by breaking out +again with renewed clamor. Most beautiful of all must have been the +silent lifting of the flag, a symbol which evangelist Bliss has taken +from the signal service in "Hold the Fort": + + Wave the answer back to heaven, + By Thy grace we will. + +And how popular such a summons would be with the ungodly--leaving them +in peace to enjoy their Sunday morning nap! + +But we are wandering from our subject. Suffice it to say that the object +of sounding brass into which Sergeant Wright was looking was not a bell. +Neither was it a cannon, for a howitzer of that calibre, or a few +smaller pieces of sounding brass, would have prevented the sad tragedy +of the Indian captivity, and in that case the events herein chronicled +would never have transpired. Sergeant Judah Wright was looking at Mr. +Hoyt's brass kettle. He was billetted upon the family, and had so won +the hearts of all but the mother, by his ready helpfulness and +kindliness of manner, that they had come to consider him as one of their +own number, and had almost forgotten the arbitrary way in which their +acquaintance had begun. His frequent presence in the kitchen, and +assistance in the labors of the family, was not, however, altogether of +a disinterested nature, being prompted by the same feeling that caused +Jacob's fourteen years of servitude for Rachel to seem but a day--"the +love he bore her." + +If Jean Ingelow had lived and written at that time, the Sergeant might +have borrowed a verse or two to explain his love for Goodman Hoyt's +kitchen: + + For there his oldest daughter stands, + With downcast eyes and skilful hands, + Before her ironing board. + + She comforts all her mother's days, + And with her sweet, obedient ways + She makes her labor light: + + So sweet to hear, so fair to see! + Oh, she is much too good for me, + That lovely Mary Hoyt. + + She has my heart, sweet Mary Hoyt: + I'll e'en go sit again to-night + Beside her ironing board! + +Ah, that flat-iron! It was while beneath her deft fingers it passed +swiftly over the smoking linen, that "the iron entered his soul"; iron, +we mean, of the nature from which Cupid forges his arrow-heads. + +Matters came to a crisis in the spring of 1703. The family had "gone +a-sugaring" in Mr. Hoyt's "plantation" of maples, and the Sergeant and +Mary had been left to watch the great kettle of sap as it seethed and +boiled over the coals. The text which heads our story was one from which +the Rev. John Williams had preached on the preceding Sunday, and the +sermon had been the subject of conversation that day. + +"I fear me much that thou art but as that kettle, Judah," was the remark +of Goodwife Hoyt as she moved away after another bucket of sap--"mere +sounding brass and a tinkling cowbell!" + +Roguish Sally Hoyt, the younger sister of modest Mary, could not forbear +a saucy fling at the lovers. + +"Yea, Judah, art thou like the kettle," she said, striking it a rap with +the paddle with which she was stirring its contents. But the kettle, +full to the brim of syrup, failed to respond with its usual resonant +ring. "Hearest thou, Sergeant? It is no more 'sounding brass,' the +reason thereof being that it is so filled with fire and sweetness that +it can hold no more. The same being a token, brethren, as our godly +pastor would say, that the heart of our beloved brother Sergeant Wright +is so filled with that charity which is love, that he hath lost his +proper and natural brazen-facedness, and can no more convey the +knowledge of his condition to the lady of his choice than can this +kettle utter the clamor which is natural unto it." + +"Go thy ways for a saucy hussy," exclaimed Mary, with sudden +consciousness, and with a mocking laugh the merry girl was gone. But the +fat was in the fire, and when Goodwife Hoyt returned with more sap, she +found the syrup there too, and the Sergeant kissing the unresisting Mary +behind a neighboring maple. For which wanton proceeding the good woman, +since she could not banish him from her family, sent away her daughter +to dwell with a distant relative, saying ere she went: + +"I do prophesy that this silly affection will presently fail; so long as +I have a tongue in my mouth I will speak against it, for the knowledge +that I have of Sergeant Wright tendeth not to edifying." + +The Sergeant did not reply verbally; but when Mary in her exile opened +her Bible to the chapter containing the text which had led to a +declaration, she was attracted by another which bore marginal notes in a +well known hand and which seemed to answer for him: + +"Charity," which is love, "_never_ faileth; but whether there be +_prophecies_, they shall fail; whether there be _tongues_, they shall +cease; whether there be _knowledge_, it shall vanish away." + +Time passed on, and one winter's night the French and Indians burst upon +the little town of Deerfield, and carried it away captive. The last +sight that the Sergeant caught through the open kitchen door was of the +great brass kettle which he and Mr. Hoyt had the night before filled +with wort or new beer, standing by the side of Mary's ironing-board; +then the blazing timbers fell over both with a deafening crash, and he +was marched away with pinioned arms. + +The horrors of that captivity are too well known to need repetition. +Through them all Sergeant Wright, by his manly heroism and patient +endurance, his care for Sally, and filial devotion to Mrs. Hoyt, at last +so won her unwilling heart that she was constrained to admit that the +old prejudicial knowledge which she had of him had vanished away. + +The efforts put forth by the French to induce the captives to remain in +Canada are notorious. A young French officer having fallen in love with +Sally Hoyt, a Jesuit priest endeavored to persuade her to the marriage. +After a sermon from the texts Deuteronomy xxi., 10-13: "When thou goest +forth to war against thine enemies, and the Lord thy God hath delivered +them into thine hands, and thou hast taken them captive, and seest among +the captives a beautiful woman, and hast a desire that thou wouldest +have her to thy wife, then she ... shall remain in thine house, and thou +shalt be her husband and she shall be thy wife," and 1 Timothy v., 14: +"I will, therefore, that the younger women marry," etc., he addressed +her personally before the congregation. Sally, remembering how her +random shaft had in time past stirred up Sergeant Wright to an +expression of his feelings, and having in mind a bashful lover, a +certain shock-headed Ebenezer Nims, more generally known as "the Nims +boy," for whom she had an inexplicable good will and who had been +"captivated with her," as the ancient chronicle stated with more truth +than it knew, answered adroitly that she had no ill will toward marriage +as a state, but that she preferred to wed with one of her own people, +and requested that "inquisition should be made" whether there were not +one willing to become her husband among the captives. A cold shudder ran +down Sergeant Wright's spinal column. Who could the child mean but him? +Had she misinterpreted his brotherly care and affection? And yet she +knew of his love for her sister. It was with a great sigh of relief that +he saw "the Nims boy" suddenly start from his seat, a timid, shrinking +boy no longer, but transformed on the instant by the girl's challenge to +as brave a knight as ever tilted in tourney for lady's love, and running +the gauntlet of the eyes of friend and foe, place himself at her side. + +The wily Jesuit was caught in his own toils; he acknowledged it by +marrying them upon the spot, and adding by way of benediction to the +usual Latin formula--"Mulier hominis confusio est." + +When the younger sister marries before the elder it is the custom, in +some parts of the country, to bring in the brass kettle and make the +slighted one dance in it. Neither sister nor kettle were present on this +occasion, but the time was not far distant when both would be found +again. The captives were to be returned. Sergeant Wright had believed +all along, in spite of the mountains of difficulty in the way, that this +would be; and yet he said to himself on that homeward march, "Though I +have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity," +which is love, "it profiteth me nothing." And in the joy of their first +meeting, the only words that Mary Hoyt could utter were: "Charity +suffereth long--beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all +things, endureth all things; charity _never_ faileth." + +On their wedding day they visited the site of the old homestead. There, +in the hollow that had been the cellar, lay the old brass kettle, and in +it a flat-iron that had fallen off Mary's ironing-board. The wort with +which the kettle had been filled had prevented it from entirely melting, +and since she could not dance in it at her sister's wedding, she was +lifted in it now by her husband and danced in it at her own. + +The kettle has been preserved as a relic by the Wright family. It hangs +in the upper part of the old mansion, and is so arranged that by pulling +a cord below, the flat iron strikes against it, and so awakens the +servants. And this story, which began with a tirade against bells, ends +in finding its beloved kettle transformed into one; yet to the whole +line and genealogy of the Wrights, by whom it has been cherished, it has +brought its blessing of faith and hope, and though but a bit of sounding +brass, yet in all its history to these presents it lacketh not that +charity which is love. + +LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY. + + + + +A ROMAN PICTURE. + + + Close to the window I wheel my chair, + In the afternoon, when my work is done, + To get my breath of the scented air, + To take my share of the Roman sun: + The air that, over yon mossy wall, + Brings me the sweetness of orange bloom, + The sun whose going carries us all + Out of a glory into a gloom. + + Calm in the light of the waning day, + And peaceful, the convent garden lies; + There, on the hillside cold and gray, + The frowning walls and the old towers rise. + To and fro in the wind's soft breath + The bending ivy sways and swings; + To and fro on the slope beneath + The Roman pine its shadow flings. + + To and fro the white clouds drift + Over the old roof gray with moss, + Over the sculptured saints that lift + Each to the sky his marble cross, + Over the stern old belfry tower, + Where, from its prison house of stone, + A pale-faced clock marks hour by hour + The changes that the years have shown. + + Free glad birds this prison share, + White doves in this old tower dwell. + Not for them the call to prayer, + Not for them the warning bell. + As they flit about the eaves, + How their white wings catch the sun! + While below through orange leaves + Gleams the white cap of the nun. + + Spotless kerchief, gown of gray, + Forehead wrapped in band of white: + These must labor, watch, and pray, + These must keep the cross in sight; + These are they who walk apart, + Who, with purpose undefiled, + Seek to fill a woman's heart + Without home or love or child. + + Is it true that many hands + Find that rosary a chain? + True that 'neath these snowy bands + Throbs, full oft, a restless brain? + True that simple robe of gray + Covers oft a troubled breast? + True that pain and passion's sway + Enters even to this rest? + + True, that at their holiest shrine, + In their hours of greatest good, + Comes to them a voice divine, + Of a sweeter womanhood? + It may be--how can _I_ tell + Who, outside the garden wall, + Only hear the convent bell. + Only see the shadows fall? + +MARY LOWE DICKINSON. + + + + +ENGLISH WOMEN. + + +The consideration of the interesting subject which I now take up is not +new to me. Long ago I found myself thinking about it when occasion to do +so presented itself; and in this I was helped by the views of English +society presented in the literature of the day, some of the most +interesting studies of which are furnished in the novels written by +Englishwomen. Indeed, the whole subject of English life and character +has long been of the profoundest interest to me; and a recent visit to +England is rather the occasion than the cause of much of what I shall +write upon it. To say this is due to myself if not to my readers.[1] + + [1] My article in the April number of "The Galaxy" happened to be + sent in without a title; and in hastily adding that with which it + appeared both the editor and myself forgot for the moment that it + was the title of Mr. Emerson's well-known book. My silent adoption + of it was an unintentional violation of courtesy which I regret. + +One day a lady whom I had had the pleasure of taking in to dinner in a +country house near London, and whom I had soon found to be one of those +simple-minded, good-natured, truth-telling women who are notably common +in England, spoke to me about some ladies who on a previous day had +attracted her attention, adding, "I knew they were Americans." "How?" I +asked. "Oh, we always know American women!" "But how, pray?" She thought +a moment, and answered: "By their beauty--they are almost always pretty, +if not more--by their fine complexions, and by their exquisite dress." I +did not tell her that I thought that she was right; but that she was so +I had by that time become convinced. And yet I should say that the most +beautiful women I had ever seen were Englishwomen, were it not for the +memory of a Frenchwoman, a German, and a Czech. But the latter three +were rare exceptions. Beauty is very much commoner among women of the +English race than among those of any other with which I am acquainted; +and among that race it is commoner in "America" than in England. I saw +more beauty of face and figure at the first two receptions which I +attended after my return than I had found among the hundreds of +thousands of women whom I had seen in England. + +The types are the same in both countries; but they seem to come near to +perfection much oftener here than there. Beauty of feature is, however, +sometimes more clearly defined in England than here. The mouth in +particular when it is beautiful is more statuesque. The curves are more +decided, and at the junction of the red of the lips with the white there +is a delicately raised outline which marks the form of the feature in a +very noble way. This may also be said of the nostril. It gives a +chiselled effect to those features which is not so often found in +"America"; but the nose itself, the brow, and the set and carriage of +the head are generally finer among "Americans." In both countries, +however, the head is apt to be too large for perfect proportion. This is +a characteristic defect of the English type of beauty. Its effect is +seen in Stothard's figures, in Etty's, and in those of other English +painters. Another defect is in the heaviness of the articulations. +Really fine arms are rare; but fine wrists are still rarer. Such wrists +as the Viennoise women have--of which I saw a wonderful example in the +Viennoise wife of a Sussex gentleman--are almost unknown among women of +English race in either country. It is often said, even in England, that +"American" women have more beautiful feet than Englishwomen have. This I +am inclined to doubt. The feet may be smaller here; and they generally +look smaller because Englishwomen wear larger and heavier shoes. They +are obliged to do so because they walk more, and because of their +moister climate. But mere smallness is not a beauty in a foot more than +in any other part of the body. Beauty is the result of shape, +proportion, and color; and feet are often cramped out of shape and out +of proportion in other countries than China. A foot to be beautiful +should seem fit for the body which it supports to stand upon and walk +with. It is said by some persons, who by saying it profess to know, that +nature, prodigal of charms to Englishwomen in bust, shoulders, and arms, +is chary of them elsewhere, and that their beauty of figure is apt to +stop at the waist. Upon this point I do not venture to give an opinion; +but I am inclined to doubt the judgment in question upon general +physiological principles. The human figure is the development of a germ; +and it is not natural that, whatever may be the case with individuals, +the type of a whole race in one country should present this +inconsistency. Possibly those who started this notion were unfortunate +in their occasions of observation and comparison. + +There is more beauty in the south of England than in the north. When I +left Birmingham on my way southward, although in addition to my +observation northward I had there the opportunity of seeing the great +throngs chiefly of women called together by the triennial musical +festival, my eyes had begun to long for the sight of beauty. The women +were hard-featured, coarse in complexion, without any remarkable bloom, +but rather the contrary, and ungainly in figure. I found a great +improvement in this respect in the lower counties; and in London of +course more than elsewhere. For it is remarkable that according to some +law, which has never yet been formulated, or from some cause quite +undiscovered, perhaps undiscoverable, beautiful women are always found +in the greatest numbers where there are the most men and the most money. + +Much has been said about the complexion of the women of England, which +has been greatly praised. I have not found it exceptionally beautiful. +It is often fresh, oftener ruddy, but still oftener coarse. A delicate, +finely-graduated bloom is not common. The rosy cheeks when looked at +closely are often streaked with fine lines and mottled with minute spots +of red; and the white is still oftener not like that of a lily, or, +better, of a white rose, but of some much coarser object in nature. It +is true that in making these odious comparisons I cannot forget certain +women, too common in "America," who seem to be composed in equal parts +of mind and leather, the elements of body and soul being left out so far +as is consistent with existence in human form. But such women are also +to be found in England, although perhaps in fewer numbers than here. + +As to dress, that, as a man, I must regard as a purely adventitious and +an essentially unimportant matter. If a woman be beautiful, or charming +without actual beauty, a man cares very little in what she is dressed, +so long as she seems at ease in her clothes, and their color is becoming +to her and harmonious. There is no greater mistake than the assumption +that being dressed in good taste is indicative of good breeding, of +education, or of social advantage of any kind. Nor is it even a sign of +good taste in any other particular. You shall see a woman who has come +out of the slums, and whose life is worthy of her origin and her +breeding, although it may have become gilded and garish, and she shall +dress herself daily, morning, noon, and night, with such an exquisite +sense of fitness in all things, with such an instinctive appreciation of +harmony of outline and color, that your eye will be soothed with the +sight of her apparel; and she shall nevertheless be vulgar in mind and +manners, sordid in soul, in her life equally gross and frivolous. And +the converse is no less true. Women most happy in the circumstances of +their birth and breeding, intelligent, cultivated, charming, of whose +sympathy in regard to anything good or beautiful you may be sure, will +dress themselves in such an incongruous, heterogeneous fashion that the +beauty which they often possess triumphs with difficulty over their +effort to adorn it. + +I feel, therefore, that I am saying very little against Englishwomen +when I say that in general they are the worst dressed human creatures +that I ever saw, except perhaps the female half of a certain class of +Germans. The reputation that they have in this respect among +Frenchwomen and "Americans" is richly deserved. Good taste is simply +absent. The notion of fitness, congruity, and "concatenation +accordingly" does not exist. In form the Englishwoman's dress is dowdy, +in color frightful. If not color-blind, she seems generally to be blind +to the effect of color, either singly or in combination. At the +Birmingham festival I saw a lady in a rich red-purple (plum color) +silk--high around the neck of course, as it was morning--and over this +swept a necklace of enormous coral beads. It made one's eyes ache to +look at her. This was not an uncommon, but a characteristic instance. +Such combinations may be justly regarded as the rule in Englishwomen's +dress. For purple they have strong liking. They not only wear it in +gowns, but they use it for trimming, in bands and flounces, in ribbons, +in feathers. They combine it with all other colors. An Englishwoman +seems to think herself "made" if she can deck herself in some way with +purple silk or velvet, or ribbons or feathers. Of course I am excepting +from these remarks a few who have intuitive good taste, and other few +who employ French _modistes_, and who submit implicitly to their +authority. The latter condition is essential; for even when the main +body of an Englishwoman's dress is in good taste she is very apt to +destroy its effect by some incongruous addition from her stores of +heterogeneous jewels, or by some other ornament--a collar, a cape, a +_fichu_, or a ribbon. They have a sad way of putting forlorn things +about their necks and on their heads which is very depressing, unless +it is astonishing, which happens sometimes. An Englishwoman will be +tolerably well dressed, and then will make a bundle of herself by tying +up her neck and shoulders in a huge piece of lace; or she will wear +specimens of two or three sets of jewels; or she will put a colored +feather in her hair, or a bonnet on her head, that would tempt a tyrant +to bring it to the block. I remember seeing a marchioness whose family +was noble in the middle ages riding with an "American" lady who had not +as much to spend in a year as the other had in a week; but the +marchioness was so obtrusively ill dressed and the American with such +good taste and simplicity that both being unusually intelligent, both +perfectly well bred and self-possessed, and both fine healthy women, a +person ignorant of their rank would have been likely to mistake the +latter for the noblewoman. + +It has been said that Englishwomen dress better in full evening dress +than in what is known as _demi-toilette_. I cannot think so. It is not +the English dress that then looks better, but the Englishwoman; that +is, if she has fine shoulders, breasts, and arms. It is the beauty that +is revealed, the woman pure and simple, that pleases the eye, just as +is the case elsewhere. For the things that an Englishwoman will put on, +or put half-off herself, in the evening, are amazing to behold. An +Englishwoman in full dress who has not a fine figure is even more dowdy +than she is in the morning. For then she is likely to be at least neat +and tidy, and she may wear a gown that is comparatively unobtrusive in +form and color. Indeed, the best dress that the average Englishwoman +wears is her simple street dress, which is apt to be of some sober +color--black, gray, light or dark, or a dark soft blue, and to be +entirely without ornament--not a flounce or a bow, or even a button +except for use, with a bonnet, or oftener a hat, equally sober in tint +and in form. And this is best for her; in this she is safe. If she +would not risk offence, let her enfold herself thus. Let her by no +means wander forth into the wilderness of mingled colors: "that way +madness lies." This outward show is in no way the consequence of +carelessness. No one in England seems to be careless about anything, +least of all a woman about her dress. It is helpless, hopeless, +elaborated dowdyism. And yet as I write there rise up against me, with +sweet, reproachful faces, figures draped worthily of their beauty; and +more could not be said even for the work of Worth himself. One of many +I particularly remember with whom I took five o'clock tea at the house +of one of the Queen's chaplains, and who bore a name that may be found +in the "Peveril of the Peak." Her bright intelligence and her rich +beauty (her oval cheek was olive) would have made me indifferent to her +dress had it been a homespun bedgown. But shall I ever forget the +beautiful curves and tint of that soft-gray broad-leafed felt hat and +feather, the elegance of the dark carriage dress that harmonized so +well with it, or the perfect glove upon the hand that was held out so +frankly to bid me good-by? No, fair British friends, it is not you that +I mean; it is those other women whom I saw, but did not know. + +It is because of the average Englishwoman's sad failure in dressing +herself that the notion has got abroad that Englishmen are finer looking +than Englishwomen. For the dress of the men is notably in good taste. It +is simple, manly, neat; and although sober in tint and snug in cut, it +is likely to have its general sobriety lightened up with a little touch +of bright, warm color. On the other hand, the dress of "American" men is +generally far, very, very far, inferior to that of the women in the +corresponding conditions of life. This helps to produce the +corresponding mistaken notion that the women in "America" are handsomer +than the men; upon the incorrectness and essential absurdity of which I +have already commented. + +As to another attributed superiority of the Yankee woman I must express +my surprised dissent. I have not only read, but heard their intelligence +and social qualities rated much higher than that of their sisters in +England. Fair countrywomen, heed not this flattery. It is not true. The +typical Englishwoman of the upper and upper middle class has in strength +of mind and in information no type counterpart in "America." She may not +know Latin, and she may, and get little good by it; she may not be +brilliant, or quick, or self-adaptive, and she generally is not; but she +is well informed both as to the past and the present; she shows the +effect rather of true education than of school cramming, of culture +inherited and slowly acquired, and of intercourse with able, highly +educated, and cultivated men. She generally has some accomplishment +which she has acquired in no mere showy boarding-school fashion, but +with a respectable thoroughness. England is full of ladies who paint +well in water colors, or who are musicians, not mere piano players, or +who are botanists, or who write well, and who add one or more of such +acquirements to a solid general education, a considerable knowledge of +affairs, and the ability to manage a large household. + +The conversation of the society in which such women are found is far +more interesting, far worthier of respect than that which is heard in +fashionable society (and these women are fashionable) in "America." And +this without any reproach to the latter. For how could it be otherwise +than that women who are the daughters, sisters, and wives of men who +are themselves highly educated, and who have the affairs of a great +empire, if not in their hands, at least upon their minds, should in all +that can be acquired by intercourse with such men be superior to others +most of whom bear the same relations to men who are necessarily +inferior in all these respects, who are absorbed in business, and know +little beyond their business except what can be learned from the +hurried reading of newspapers? In England there is not only accumulated +wealth, but accumulated culture; and of this the result appears not +only in the men, but in the women. It could not be otherwise. +Englishwomen are companions, and friends, and helps to their fathers, +their husbands, to all the men of their household. They are not +absorbed in the mere external affairs of society; and society is not +entirely in their hands. Men, men of mature years, form the substance +of English society; they give it its tone; women its grace and its +ornamentation. Even in the Englishwoman's drawing-room the Englishman +is looked up to and treated with deference. The talk and the tone must +be such as pleases him. She finds her pleasure as well as her duty in +making it such as pleases him. She is even there his companion, his +friend, his help. No matter how clever or brilliant she may be, she +does not seek _tenir salon_ like the French female _bel esprit_. No +matter how beautiful or how fashionable she may be, she does not leave +him out of her society arrangements; unless, indeed, in either case, +she chooses to set propriety at naught and brave an accusation of "bad +form." And indeed, should she attempt this she would probably soon be +checked by a very decided interposition of marital authority. The +result of all this is a soberer tone in mixed society than we are +accustomed to, and the discussion of graver topics in general +conversation. + +And yet in the household the Englishwoman is quite supreme--much more +so, I think, than she is in "America." She really manages all household +affairs, troubling her husband with no details, but being careful to +manage in such a way as to please him. For, as I have said before, the +wish of the master of an English household is the law of that household. +Notwithstanding all this, I have been led to the firm belief that +hen-pecking is far more common in England than it is with us, and that +curtain lectures are much oftener delivered there than here. "Mrs. +Caudle's Curtain Lectures" would hardly have suggested themselves to an +American humorist, although the thing itself--if not in its perfection, +in its germ--is sufficiently known here to make the humor and the satire +of that series perfectly appreciated. And, strange to say, the average +English husband seems to be a less independent creature than the +"American." English wives more generally insist upon their prerogative +of sitting solemnly up for their husbands at night; and latch-keys are +regarded as a personal grievance. What American wife would think of +making a fuss about a man's having a latch-key? Not a few of them, +indeed, have one themselves. And yet I have seen an Englishwoman of the +lower middle class flush and choke and whimper when the subject of the +inalienable right of a man to a latch-key to his own house was broached, +and begin to talk about the worm turning when it is trampled upon. + +The devotion of Englishwomen to their families, and particularly to +their children, cannot be surpassed. I believe that they are the best, +the most self-sacrificing daughters, wives, and mothers in the world, +except the good daughters and wives and mothers in "America"; and even +them I believe they generally surpass in submissiveness and thoughtful +consideration. But this is the result of the general subordination which +in all things pervades English society. + +It is generally believed in England, I cannot tell why, that women in +"America" take part in public affairs and are much more in the eye of +the world than Englishwomen are. Of this belief I met with an amusing +instance. One day at dinner in a "great house" I had on one side of me a +gentleman who had come in alone for lack of ladies enough to "go round"; +it was a small family party. He was the brother of my hostess, a fine, +intelligent fellow about twenty-five years old, who had just taken his +bachelor's degree at Oxford. As I turned from his sister to him, in a +pause of conversation, he asked me with great earnestness, almost with +solemnity, "Is--it--true--that--in--America--the--women-- sit--on--juries?" +I answered instantly, and with perfect gravity, "Yes; all of them who +are not on duty as sergeants of dragoons." For one appreciable +delightful moment doubt and bewilderment flashed through his bright, +handsome eyes, and then he, as well as others within earshot, +appreciated the situation, and there was a hearty laugh and an +ingenuous blush mantled his cheeks--for young men can blush in England. +When I explained that in no part of that strange country "America" with +which I was acquainted did women sit on juries, or take any part in +public affairs, or even vote or go to public meetings, and that nine in +ten of the women that I knew would be puzzled to tell who represented +in Congress the districts in which they lived, who were the Senators +from their States, and possibly who were their Governors, I was +listened to with profound attention; and the surprise of my hearers was +very manifest, and was strongly expressed. It could hardly have been +otherwise; for nothing that I could have said would have brought into +clearer light the fact that women in America are very much less +informed upon public affairs and take very much less interest in them +than is the case with almost all Englishwomen of the cultivated +classes. In England almost all intelligent women of the upper and upper +middle classes take a very lively interest in politics, are tolerably +well informed upon the public questions of the day, and in many cases +they have no inconsiderable influence upon them. The reason of this is +that political life and the social life of the upper classes there are +so thoroughly intermingled. Politics form the chief concern of the +members of those classes; apart, of course, from their own private +affairs. Hardly a woman of that class is without a husband, brother, +kinsman, or friend who is, or who has been, or hopes to be a member of +Parliament, or who is in diplomacy, or connected in some way with +colonial affairs. Politics there are intimately connected with the +great object of woman's life in modern days--social success. It is +difficult for women in England, and even for men, to understand the +entire severance of politics and society which obtains in "America," +and to believe that a man may be a member of Congress or even a +Senator, and yet be entirely without social position. Politics there +are the most interesting topic of conversation among intelligent and +cultivated people in general society, and such an acquaintance with +political questions and party manoeuvres as is here confined to a very +few women indeed, whose relations to public men are peculiar, and who +"go to Washington," is there very common among all women of superior +position. + +Of this I met with a striking illustration on my way from Warwick to +Coventry. As I was about entering the railway carriage, a friend, an +Englishman, who was kindly travelling with me for a day or two, and +"coaching" me, told the porter who had my portmanteau to put it into the +carriage. This, by the way, is permitted there. If there is room, and no +one objects, you may take a huge trunk into a first-class railway +carriage. Indeed, one could hardly be taken into a second-class carriage +for lack of room; and a third-class carriage is hardly larger than that +marvellous institution known to American women--but to no others--as a +Saratoga trunk. I objected to my friend's proposal because there was a +lady in the carriage. She was standing with her back to me as I spoke, +but she immediately turned and said, in a clear, sweet voice, "Oh, yes; +bring it in; never mind me; there's quite room enough." I never saw a +more elegant woman. She was about forty years old, still very handsome, +tall, with a fine lithe figure, and a gentle loftiness of manner which I +might have called aristocratic, had she not reminded me strongly in +every way of an "American" woman whom I had known from my boyhood. +Nothing could have been more simple, frank, and good-natured than the +way in which she made me and my luggage welcome. Her maid, who was +standing by her, and who was herself a very lady-like person, soon left +us to take her place in a second-class carriage, and we three were left +in possession. + +The train started with that gentle, unobtrusive motion which is usual on +English railways, and we fell into the chat of fellow travellers. I was +charmed with her. Her voice and her manner of speech would have made the +recitation of the multiplication table agreeable. She had a son at +Oxford, which I had left a few days before, and it proved that we had +common acquaintances there. She showed, with all her superiority of +manner, social and personal--for she was what would have been called in +the last generation a superior woman--that deference to manhood which I +have mentioned before as a trait of Englishwomen. Ere long my companion +mentioned that we had been at Kenilworth that day. She replied, "Oh, I +must go there. I have never been. Why! It is just like Americans to go +to Kenilworth. All the Americans go to Kenilworth, and to Warwick +Castle, and to Stratford." My companion replied that we had been at all +those places. She laughed merrily, and said, "You ought to have been +Americans to do that." My friend then told her that I was an "American." +She turned upon me almost with a stare, and after a moment of silence +spoke to me again, but with a perceptible and very remarkable change of +manner. It was very slight--of a delicate fineness. Her courtesy was not +in the least diminished, nor her frankness; but the perfectly +unconscious and careless expression of her face was impaired, and her +attention to me was a little more pronounced than it had been before. +She inquired if I had been pleased with my visit to Kenilworth, and told +me that a novel had been written about it by Sir Walter Scott. "But +perhaps you have read it," she added. "Have you met with it?" I +answered, "I have heard of it"; and my inward satisfaction was great +when I saw that I had done so with a face so unmoved that she replied +with a gracious instructiveness of manner, "Oh, you should have read it +before you went to Kenilworth; it would so have increased your pleasure. +But the next best thing for you is to read it now." I thanked her, and +said that I should like to do so. I think that she would have gone on to +recommend a perusal of the works of William Shakespeare to me in +connection with my visit to Stratford on Avon, although she looked at me +in a puzzled way once or twice. But my companion, although I saw he was +amused at something in her talk, marred whatever hopes I had of further +instruction by breaking in with some remark upon the politics of +Warwickshire. She rose to his fly like a trout on a hazy day, and in a +minute or two she had forgotten my existence in her discussion with him +of a topic which plainly was to her of far more interest than all the +Scotts that could have dwelt in Kenilworth, and all the Shakespeares +that could have stood in Stratford. He was a Birmingham magnate, and +knew everything that was going on in the country; but she was his equal +in information, and it seemed to me his superior in political craft. To +every suggestion of his she made some reply that showed that the +question was not new to her. She knew all the ins and outs of the +politics of the county: who could be expected to support this measure, +who was sure to oppose that. She knew all about the manufacturing +interests of Birmingham: who had retired from active management; who was +coming in; what money had been taken out of this establishment, what +changes had taken place in the other, and had an opinion as to what +effect this was going to have upon Parliament. I never heard the +beginning of such political talk from a woman in America, even from one +whose husband was in politics. The train stopped; her maid appeared, and +she bade us courteously good-by, with the puzzled look in her eye as it +rested upon the fellow passenger to whom she had recommended the perusal +of "Kenilworth"; and then my companion told me, what indeed I had been +sure of all along, that she was a member of the governing class. + +A few days before, I had observed in Oxford, where a local election was +impending, small posters addressed to "The Burgesses," and these +invariably began "_Ladies_ and Gentlemen," a form of "campaign +document" as foreign to us as it would be to peoples subject to the +Salique law--than which worse laws have long prevailed in many +countries. + +Not only in politics but in business women appear much more prominently +than they do in "America." If they do not keep hotels, which they +sometimes do, they manage them, whether they are great or small. The +place which in "America" is filled by that exquisite, awful, and +imperturbable being, the hotel clerk, is filled invariably in England by +a woman--so at least I always found it, and I found the change a very +happy one. To be met by the cheery, pleasant faces of these bright, +well-mannered women, to be spoken to as if you were a human being whom, +in consideration of what you are to pay, it was a pleasure to make as +comfortable as possible, instead of being treated with lofty +condescension, or at best with serene indifference, was a pleasant +sensation. And these women did their work so quietly and cheerfully, and +yet in such a businesslike way, that it was a constant pleasure to come +into contact with them. Dressed in black serge or alpaca, they affected +no flirting airs, and directed or obeyed promptly and quietly. And yet +their womanhood constantly appeared in their manner and in their +thoughtfulness for the comfort of those who were in their care. They +always had a pleasant word or a smile in answer to a passing remark, +were always ready to answer any question or give any information, and +were pleased at any acknowledgment of satisfaction. Naturally it was so; +for they were women; and they were chosen, it seemed to me, for their +pleasant ways as well as for their efficiency. From not one of them, +from one end of England to the other, in great cities or in quiet +country towns and villages, did I receive one surly word or look, or +anything but the kindest and promptest attention. I can say the same of +the shop women, who waited upon customers not as if they were +consciously condescending in the performing of such duties, but +cheerfully and pleasantly, and with a show of interest that a purchaser +should be satisfied. Their dress was almost invariably the same black +unornamented serge or alpaca, which, by the way, is the commonest street +dress of all women of their condition. In the telegraph offices the +clerks are generally women; and indeed, women seem to do everything +except plough, drive omnibuses and railway engines, and be soldiers and +policemen. They keep turnpikes, where turnpikes still exist; and in +Sussex I saw a woman's name with her husband's upon the pike-house. +Indeed, it seemed to me that in all public affairs, from politics down +to turnpike keeping, women were very much more engaged and before the +world in England than in America, although I saw no jury-women or she +sergeants. + +As to the manners of Englishwomen, they are, like the manners of other +women, good, bad, and indifferent. And chiefly they are indifferent; +being in this particular also like others, especially of the Teutonic +races; which races, my readers may like to be reminded, are the Deutsch +(which we call German), the Hollanders, the Anglo-Saxon (or better, the +English), and the Scandinavians (Swedes, Norsemen, Danes, and +Icelanders). The average manners of these peoples, even of the women +among them, are on the whole truly indifferent. They are not coarse, but +as surely they are not polished. Manner, however, is a very different +thing from manners; and in manner Englishwomen, from the highest class +to the lowest, are all more or less charming--strong-minded women and +lodging-house keepers being of course excepted. This charm, like all +traits and effects of manner, is not easy to describe; but it left upon +me at this time, as it had left before, an impression of its being the +outcoming of an intense consciousness of womanhood, and with this a +feeling of modest but very firm self-respect. The most intelligent +Englishwoman, even in her most exalted moments, never seems to resolve +herself into a bare intelligence. Her mind is always clad in woman's +flesh; and her body thinks. Thus conscious of her own womanhood, she +keeps you conscious of it, not merely by the facts that her hair is +long, her face beardless, and that her body (in the evening the lower +part of it at least) is covered with voluminous and marvellous +apparel--in a word, not merely by outer show. + +All this is but the outward sign; and it might exist--as it so often +does, I shall not say where--in women, without the least of that grace, +not of movement or of speech, or even of thought, but of moral +condition, which is to me the chiefest charm in woman. How often have I +sat by one of such women talking--no, talked at (for it reduces me to +silence)--in such a splendid and overwhelming manner, and with such a +superior consciousness of intellectuality, that I could not but think +that except for the silk and the lace, and the lack of moustaches, and +the evident expectation of a compliment, I might as well have been +talking with a man (only a man would have said more with less fuss), and +that I longed for the companionship of some pretty, well-bred ignoramus, +whose head was full only of common sense, and whose soul as well as +whose body was of the female sex. England is not without women of the +other kind, I suppose, but they are so rare that I met with none; while +all the women that I did meet had the soft, sweet charm given by the +contented consciousness of their womanhood. Womanhood looks out from an +Englishwoman's eyes; it speaks in every inflection of her voice. No +matter how clever she may be, how well informed, she never utters mind +pure and simple; she never lays a bare statement of thought or of fact +before you. She is too modest. A piece of her mind she does, indeed, +sometimes give you. But then, be sure, she is, of all times, the most +thoroughly womanlike and absolved from intellectuality; being, however, +thus in her excitement not peculiar among her sex. At all other times +she leaves an impression of gentleness, and a lack of intellectual +robustness; and, if you are a man at least, she, without any seeming +intention of so doing, keeps you constantly in mind that she is trusting +to you--to your strength, your ability, your position--to ensure that +she shall be treated with respect and tenderness, and taken care of; and +that therefore she owes you deference, and that it becomes her to be not +only as charming but as serviceable as possible. Even in the hardest +women there is a remnant at least of this. An Englishwoman shall be a +sort of she-bagman, a traveller for manufacturers, and in the habit of +riding second or even third class alone, from one end of England to the +other (and I talked with such women), and she shall yet show you this +gentle, womanly consciousness. A woman's eye there never looks straight +and steady into yours, saying, "I am quite able to take care of my own +person, and interests, and reputation. Don't trouble yourself about me +in those respects. Meantime, sir, I am taking your measure." There is +always a mute appeal from her womanhood to your manhood. This charm +belongs to the Englishwoman of all ranks, and beautifies everything that +she does, even if she does it awkwardly, which is not always. She shows +it if she is a great lady and welcomes you, or if she is a housemaid and +serves you. Not actually every Englishwoman is thus of course; for there +are hard, and proud, and cruel, and debased women there, as there are +elsewhere. But, apart from these exceptions, this is the manner of +Englishwomen; and, in so far as a man may judge, this manner, or the +counterpart of it, does not forsake them when they are among themselves. + +This soft charm of the Englishwoman's manner is greatly helped and +heightened by her voice and her manner of speaking. In these she is not +only without an equal, but beyond comparison with the women of any other +people, except the few of her own blood and tongue in this country, who +have like voices and the same utterance. The voices and the speech of +Englishwomen of all classes are, with few exceptions, pleasant to the +ear--soft and clear; their words are well articulated, but not precisely +pronounced. They speak without much emphasis, yet not monotonously, but +with gentle modulation. Their speech is therefore very easily +understood--much more so than that of persons who speak louder and with +stronger emphasis. You rarely or never are obliged to ask an +Englishwoman to repeat what she has said because you have failed to +catch her words. This soft, yet crisp and clear and easily flowing +speech, is, as I have said, common to the whole sex there. + +I remember that in one of my prowlings about London I found myself in a +little, dingy court that opened off Thames street--a low, water-side +street that runs under London Bridge. It was Sunday morning, and I had +come down from Charing Cross in one of the little Thames steamers, to +attend service at St. Paul's, and had half an hour to spare. The street +was almost deserted, and so quiet that my footsteps echoed from the +walls of the dull and smoke-browned houses. In this court I found two +women talking. One was Sairey Gamp. I am sure it was Sairey. The leer +upon her heavy face could not be mistaken, and she had grown even a +little stouter than when I was so happy as to make her acquaintance +years ago. The other was probably Betsey Prig; she was a mere wisp of a +woman; or, indeed, she may have been Mrs. Harris herself--her +shadow-like figure being the next thing in woman form to nonentity. As I +passed these two humble people, I was struck by the tone and manner of +their speech as they talked earnestly together. Their words and their +pronunciation were vulgar enough; but, as a whole, the speech of both +was rich and musical. The whole of that otherwise silent court was +filled with the soft murmur of their voices. I had no business there, +but I pretended to have, and went from dingy door to dingy door, +lingering and loitering all round the court, that I might listen. They +did not stare at me any more than I did at them--plainly, they would not +have thought of such rudeness--but they went on with their talk, +speaking their language and mine with tones and inflections that I never +heard from two women of like position in "America." + +I was reminded of this afterward when one morning, at a great house, a +country seat, I lingered with my hostess at the breakfast table after +all the rest of the family had risen. She touched a bell, and a maid, an +upper servant, answered the summons. No servants, by the way, wait at +breakfast there, even in great houses. After you are once started, and +the tea is made, you are left alone, to wait upon yourselves--a fashion +full of comfort, making breakfast the most sociable meal of the day. +When the maid appeared the lady spoke at once, and the servant stopped +at the door and replied, and there was a little dialogue about some +household matter. The young woman's answers were little more than, "Yes, +my Lady," and, "No, my Lady," but I was charmed by them--more so than I +have ever been by a lecture or a recitation from the lips of one of the +sex. She spoke in a subdued tone; but every syllable was distinct, +although she was at the further end of a large dining-room. Her +mistress's voice was no less clear and sweet and charming, and as they +talked, in their low, even tones, with perfect ease and understanding at +this distance, the whole of the great room resounded sweetly with this +spoken music. When English is spoken in this way by a woman of superior +breeding and intelligence there is, of course, an added charm, and it is +then the most delightful speech that I ever heard, or can imagine. +Compared with it, German becomes hideous and ridiculous, French mean and +snappish, Spanish too weak and open-mouthed, and even Italian, noble and +sweet as it is, seems to lack a certain firmness and crispness, and to +be without a homely charm that it may not lack to those whose mother +tongue is bastard Latin. + +One reason of this beauty of the speech of Englishwomen is doubtless in +the voice itself. An Englishwoman's voice is soft, but it is not weak. +It is notably firm, clear, and vibrating. It is neither guttural nor +nasal. While it soothes the ear, it compels attention. Like the tone of +a fine old Cremona violin, its softest vibrations make themselves heard +and understood when mere noise makes only confusion. Such voices are not +entirely lacking among women in "America"; but, alas! how few of the +fortunate possessors of such voices here use them worthily! For the +other element of the beauty of the Englishwoman's speech is in her +utterance. "Her voice is ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing +in woman." Shakespeare knew the truth in this, as in so many other +things. One of the very few points on which we may be sure of his +personal preferences is that he disliked high voices and sharp speech in +women. Singular man! I fear that his ears would suffer here. The +Englishwoman's voice is strong as well as sweet, but her speech is low. +She rarely raises her voice. I do not remember having ever heard an +Englishwoman try to compel attention in that way; but I have heard +French and Spanish and Italian women, ladies of unquestionable position +and breeding, almost scream, and that, too, in society. Nor does the +Englishwoman use much emphasis. Her manner of speech is calm, although +without any suggestion of dignity, and her inflections, which rise +often, although they are full of meaning, are gentle. I remarked this +difference in her speech of itself, but much more when I heard again the +speech of my own countrywomen. I had not been in their company five +minutes--not one--when I was pierced through from ear to ear. They +seemed to me to be talking in italics, to be emphasizing every word, as +if they would thrust it into my ears, whether I would or not. They +seemed to scream at me. They did scream. I am sure that to their +emphatic and almost fierce utterance is due, in a very great measure, +the inferior charm of their speech, when compared with that of their +sisters who have remained in the "old home." If they would be a little +more gentle, a little less self-asserting, a little less determined, and +a little more persuasive in their utterance as well as in their manner, +I am sure that, with all their other advantages, they need fear no +rivalry in womanly charm, even with the truly feminine, sensible, +soft-mannered, sweet-voiced women of England. + +RICHARD GRANT WHITE. + + + + +LIFE INSURANCE. + + +The most certain, and at the same time the most uncertain of events, is +the period of the termination of human life. This is a seeming paradox; +nay, it is more than seeming. The time when any member of the human +family will shuffle off this mortal coil no science can forecast, no art +discover; but the successive numbers out of any thousand men of given +ages who will, year after year, die, has been ascertained by actual +count in so many instances and verified by experience for so long a +time, that it is safe to say that no law in nature is better established +by proof. Given these elements, how easy to erect the fabric of life +insurance--how easy to spread among the many the misfortunes of the +individuals who die untimely deaths, their numbers being known +beforehand. + +Upon this paradox life insurance rests. It is at once one of the most +simple and one of the most beneficent methods ever invented for +alleviating the evils necessarily incident to our complex civilization. +For a trifling sum, a man may make provision for his family against +untimely death, and thus gain the quiet of soul and peace of mind +necessary for the pursuit of his avocation. + +But I do not mean to sing a paean to life insurance. It may be safely +said that the subject is not new, or the field uncultivated. On the +contrary, the topic has been said and sung in prose and verse for so +long that it ceases to attract for novelty's sake; while we have all +heard the ubiquitous agent sound its praises in our ears, until it +appeared to our excited imagination as if there were no need of any +further want, or care, or trouble in the world, and that life insurance +was, or was about to be, or at least + + Might be the be-all and the end-all here. + +The object of the present writer is to suggest the spots upon the sun, +to point out the fallacies, the faults, and the frauds which have been +allowed to grow up around the system, and to make some suggestions for +the cure of the evils and their prevention. + +To begin with, the frauds in life insurance date from the period when +companies were started for the purpose of making money, and with the +appearance of being philanthropical institutions. Savings banks have +gone through the same experience, and it is a sad one. Men who attempt +to lead the public to believe that they are engaged in an enterprise +based, not upon the selfish principle of profit, but upon the unselfish +principle of doing good, and who then deliberately go to work to fill +their own coffers by means of the business, are, to say the least, +obtaining their money by false pretences. + +The capital of the Continental Life Insurance Company was $100,000, and +although, by the original charter, the stock-holders were entitled to +share with the policy-holders in the profits of the business, yet some +years ago an arrangement was made, upon the transfer of the risks of +another company to the Continental, that only seven per cent. should be +paid to stock-holders. Ever since the yearly statement to the State +authorities set forth under oath that only seven per cent. had been paid +to stock-holders, all the rest of the profits being presumably divided +among the policy-holders. But now, when the light is let in upon this +company, it appears that it always paid its stock-holders eighteen to +twenty-eight per cent., and that while, of late years, only seven per +cent. was charged on the books, yet the money was paid just the same. +Then, too, lest the policy-holders should get too much profits to be +divided among them, princely salaries were paid to the officers and +agents, and upon these salaries annuities were predicated, which were +also commuted, capitalized, and surrendered to the company each year. I +hardly know how to characterize this scheme. It came out in the evidence +of an officer, who said he had $2,000 per annum, with an annuity of five +per cent. That sounds quite simple, and persons not fully informed on +the subject of life insurance would hesitate to expose their ignorance +by asking questions. The annuity turns out to be $100 per annum for +life, which at the time it is granted the company capitalized and +purchased back, paying about $1,000 therefor. But next year there is +another annuity for life granted, of the same amount, which is again +purchased, and so on continually. The effect is to add to the officers' +salaries, yearly, about fifty per cent., and at the same time conceal it +from the public, the State department, and the policy-holders. The +president's $17,500 thus became over $26,000, without attracting +attention. Besides, it helps demonstrate the scientific principles upon +which life insurance and life annuities are based, and by practically +illustrating to the managers themselves the potency of algebraic formula +in figuring large sums out of small, convinced them of the truth of the +arguments which they are to make to the agents, and the agents to the +public, by which the money is to be brought in to keep this fine system +going. + +You will say that this is only one case, and that it is an exception, +and that companies honestly managed will not permit such things. I grant +you the latter part of your answer, but ask you to show me an honestly +managed company; I know but very few. It will be found, on +investigation, that these practices, or others quite as bad, flourish in +every company, in this State at least, with few exceptions. + +Commuted commissions is another item under the thin disguise of which +the policy-holders are robbed, but I defer the consideration of that +topic for that of changing policies, to which more pressing interest +attaches. + +When a life policy has run for a certain number of years, and the +company has received upon the policy a large number of premiums, it is +obliged, both by prudential reasons and by law, to hold against the +liability upon it a certain sum of money. This sum is called the +reserve. It is also called the reinsurance fund. It is in fact the sum +which the company has been improving at compound interest against the +day when the policy must be paid. If for any reason the policy +lapses--say for non-payment of premium--this sum becomes the property of +the company. No policy-holder knows what the reserve on his policy is, +and the company will not tell him. It is one of those interesting facts +which you are not expected to ask questions about. It requires a +complicated calculation to arrive at it. The officers tell you so. The +fact is that every company has a book of tables which will tell you the +reserve at any moment, and the policy register should show the reserve +returned to the department the previous January. It will be seen that if +the company can induce the policy-holder to sell his policy to them for +a sum less than the reserve, it makes the difference in profit. This is +what is known as freezing out. This is open, notorious, bold robbery. +But there is a secret method which accomplishes the same result. This is +known as changing. If the company is not ready to incur the odium of +attempting to purchase its policies, it sends accomplished agents to +persuade its policy-holders that some new form of policy is more +desirable than the old. Hence the numerous plans of insurance. In the +change, it is safe to say that the reserve on the old policy is pretty +well used up, and out of it the agent takes a slice, and a pretty good +slice, and who takes the rest of it is no mystery. Every policy-holder +in a life insurance company who is asked to surrender his policy and +take money for it, or another policy, may rest assured that there is a +fraud at the bottom of the transaction, and that whoever will make money +by it, he will not. In the reinsurance of companies, and the consequent +changes of policies from one company to another, this has been the +method by which the promoters of the scheme have realized large amounts +of money. + +Leaving the fertile subject of changing policies, and the frauds of +which that operation has been made the vehicle, let me examine the +subject of supervision by the State over the companies, and the effect +which such supervision has had upon the business. Of course the theory +of a State department is that of supervision. It is based upon the power +of visitation, as exercised by the founders of hospitals and colleges, +for the purpose of seeing that the corporation is carrying out the will +of the founder. Here the State, having conferred a corporate franchise, +has the right to see that the franchise is properly exercised. To that +end an officer is appointed, to whom each corporation is to make annual, +detailed reports of its operations, and who is vested with the power of +examining the companies, to ascertain if their reports be correct, and +if the laws have been complied with. There is no doubt but that if the +power were properly exercised, the action of the Superintendent of +Insurance would have a beneficial effect. The great difficulty in +carrying out the supervision effectively has been, however, the +imperfect character of the legislation on the subject. The laws fix an +arbitrary standard of solvency, which binds the Superintendent hand and +foot. + +Insurance experts differ very widely as to the correctness of this +standard. It obliges the companies to have on hand invested a sum of +money, being a certain arithmetical proportion to the amount of +outstanding insurance. A company may not have this amount and yet be +solvent, and have before it a long and prosperous career of usefulness. +Another company may have the technical amount of assets and yet be +rotten to the core. It is said that the very largest and best managed +companies have passed through periods when if this criterion were to +have been applied to their condition, they would have been weighed and +found wanting. The mere amount of assets at any given time cannot be a +positive test of the condition of the business. The expense of doing +business in one company may be small, and all of it taken out of the +premium for the first year, in which case the technical reserve at the +end of the year may be very much impaired; yet the company may be in a +most promising and flourishing condition, with a good business on its +books, and a large future income secure without further cost. On the +other hand, a company may have the full technical reserve and yet have +acquired its business at ruinous application, out of its future +premiums, of large commissions. With laws so imperfect, with no +provision for examining the commercial condition of a company, it is not +strange that State supervision should gradually fade into an empty form. +It is true the department has been for some years kept in full apparent +efficiency. There has been a respectable head, and a very full body of +clerks duly appointed at the suggestion of members of the Senate. These +clerks have been agreeably employed in receiving, folding, and filing +the reports of the various companies; in receiving applications for +licenses from agents of foreign companies; in issuing such licenses; in +furnishing printed copies of the charters of companies to all who apply +for the same, and also copies of the reports of the companies. These +duties are supplemented by that of collecting the fees for the various +services, and by the composition of answers to letters of policy-holders +of the most Delphic character. The head of the department, I suppose, is +meantime fully employed in digesting the statements of the companies and +preparing his annual report of their condition, to be presented to the +Legislature, and afterward printed and bound in gilt covers, for +distribution among his constituents. These reports are quite pleasant +reading. You will find year after year faint and delicate suggestions as +to amendatory laws, opinions that there is doubt of the legality of +amalgamations, and other twaddle. Not a word, however, denunciatory of +the frauds being perpetrated under the very nose of the department, and +which every man in the State can see quite plainly but himself. Of the +epistolary productions of the Superintendent, it is hard to speak. If +language be given to conceal thought, how well it is used by the +Department of Insurance. Complaints, charges, requests to examine--all +are met so politely, so evasively, that while you feel you are being put +off, and that your request will not be granted, you know not why you are +refused. + +Thus the Department of Insurance ran its natural course. It became a +storehouse of heaps of meaningless figures. The companies soon found +that their mistakes were not corrected, and it became convenient to make +mistakes. Gradually false statements grew out of exaggerated ones. Cash +in bank would continue to represent money which had been lost by a bank +failure. In one sense it was cash in bank--cash that would never again +come out. Then money in the hands of agents is an item which could rise +and sink with great facility. In some companies it grew to such +proportions as to warrant the suspicion that pretty soon all the money +of the company would be in the hands of agents, and very bad hands to be +in they have generally proven, have these agents' hands. The books of +the Continental Company show about a million of dollars in the hands of +those gentlemen, with very little chance of any considerable portion of +it ever getting into the hands of the receiver. + +And the worst of this condition of affairs with respect to the Insurance +Department is that it is a delusion and a snare. If there were no +supervision, people would exercise their judgment themselves, +uninfluenced by annual reports and all the apparently officially +recognized, columnar, battalions of carefully disposed statistics. Then +instead of producing certificates with the departmental seal +authenticating solvency, the life insurance solicitor would be forced to +prove his company entitled to credit by other and more convincing +arguments. Naturally enough, the plain people suppose that when the +State undertakes to regulate the business, it will do the work which it +undertakes well and honestly. It has in fact done neither. While saying +to the country, our companies are under strict supervision; they are +obliged to make annual reports; and if there is any item in that report +which leads the Superintendent to believe the company should be +examined, it is immediately done, and we permit no company to continue +in business unless it has assets enough to reinsure all its outstanding +contracts. That is what in effect the State of New York says. How far +otherwise are its actual doings let the history of the Continental and +the Security answer. The receiver of the first named says it has been +insolvent for five or six years, and insurance people gravely suspected +that for some time. As to the Security, any boy in a life company will +tell you that its absolute insolvency has been well known for at least +two years to all persons having any knowledge of the business at all, +who have read their annual reports. Nevertheless the department did not +interfere. The Continental let it be understood in California that they +were insolvent, so that they could buy in their contracts at a low +price. At home they keep up the appearance of solvency, go through the +solemn farce of making out reports and filing them in the department, +showing a surplus of nearly a million, when in fact there was a +deficiency of two millions. + +What an efficient department! What a splendid system! How careful of the +interests of the public! What a fatherly State to its expectant widows +and orphans! + +Just here is the vice of the whole system. Relying on the care of the +State officers, the policy-holder takes out his policy and continues his +payments year after year. Relying on a broken reed! + +Can it be conceived possible that the real owners of two hundred +millions of dollars would abandon to directors the entire charge of +their interests and the interests of those dear to them, unless they +were inspired by faith in that governmental supervision which they were +led to believe would be effectual to protect their interests, and to +make safe the provision which they had made, not for themselves, but for +those helpless ones whom it is the duty of the State to care for, and +the boast of our system of jurisprudence that it protects with jealous +care? + +The result of all this faithlessness is seen in the present condition of +life insurance affairs. Is the remedy to be found in legislation, in new +attempts to make supervision on the part of the State more than a name, +or in the abandonment of the whole scheme of supervision and in leaving +the business to be carried on without any State control or supervision? +This is really the momentous question of the hour, and one that cannot +be too thoroughly discussed or too carefully considered. + +In its consideration the status of a policy-holder in a life insurance +company must be taken into consideration. To thoroughly understand what +that status is, it is necessary to examine carefully the contract on +which it rests. Each policy in a life insurance company provides for a +life-long engagement on the part of the assured. He is to continue to +pay premiums as long as he lives, if he does not anticipate them by a +single payment, or by several payments. On its part the company agrees +to pay to the assured, or rather to his nominee at the death of the +assured, a certain sum. In addition, however, to this simple contract, +the policy-holder is entitled to a share in the profits of the company. +That share is greater or less as the case may be, as the organization of +the company provides. The policy-holder is thus in a certain sense a +partner in the business. He has an expectation of profits, either in the +shape of reduced premiums, increased insurance, or actual money. The +contract is not one of indemnity merely. It is a contract to pay at +death a fixed sum, in consideration of the payment during life of +certain sums known as premiums. It is an arrangement by means of which +the pecuniary hardships incident to premature death are borne by a great +number of persons instead of the family of the person who dies before +his expectation of life has been reached. It is apparent from this +contract that the company which issues it must in the nature of things +have the custody and management of large sums of money. It is +contemplated by the parties that accumulations in the hands of the +company must exist, and it is an incident of the contract that the +officers of the company shall have the management of that fund. Is the +fund a trust to be held by the company for the benefit of the +policy-holders? If it be, then the courts of equity have complete and +entire jurisdiction, and to them it should be left. They are competent +to enforce the proper execution of other trusts, and presumably of this. +Give perfect freedom of individual action to each policy-holder, take +off the leading-strings of State supervision, and leave the parties to a +life insurance contract where the parties to other contracts are left, +to themselves and the courts. + + + + +THE GREAT SEAL OF THE UNITED STATES. + +CONCERNING SOME IRREGULARITIES IN IT. + + +It is a somewhat singular fact that although the United States assumed +all the rights, powers, and dignities of a nation on the Fourth of +July, 1776, no great seal was adopted until about five months before +the signing of the preliminary treaty of peace with Great Britain in +1782. This is the more remarkable when we consider that our forefathers +were brought up under the shadow of the English law, which prescribed +that no grant nor charter was _factum_ until it was sealed, and of +English custom, which taught that even the sign manual of the sovereign +must be authenticated by an impression from the privy seal. + +But the inception of our government was attended with other +informalities than the neglect to provide a seal. Silas Deane, our first +political agent to France, wrote from Paris to the secret committee of +Congress, under date of November 28, 1776, acknowledging the receipt of +the committee's letter of August 7, enclosing a copy of another letter +of July 8, the original of which never came to hand, and also a copy of +the Declaration of Independence, which, he complains, had been +circulated in Europe two months before. This last letter conveyed what +was intended to be the official notification to the court of France of +the act of separation of the colonies, but was so unofficial in form +that Mr. Deane was prompted to say in answer that he would have supposed +that "some mode more formal, or, if I may say, respectful, would have +been made use of, than simply two or three lines from the committee of +Congress.... I mention this as something deserving of serious +consideration, whether in your applications here and your powers and +instructions of a public nature, it is not always proper to use a seal? +This is a very ancient custom in all public and even private concerns of +any consequence." + +But although Congress neglected to provide a seal, it was not because it +had not anticipated the need of one, for this record appears in its +journal, under date of Thursday, July 4, 1776: + + _Resolved_, That Dr. Franklin, Mr. J. Adams, and Mr. Jefferson be a + committee to prepare a device for a seal for the United States of + America. + +We obtain an insight of the acts of this committee in a letter from John +Adams to his wife, under date of Philadelphia, August 14, 1776. + +After discussing matters irrelevant to the question at issue, he says: + + I am put upon a committee to prepare ... devices for a great seal + for the confederated States. There is a gentleman here of French + extraction, whose name is _Du Simitiere_, a painter by profession, + whose designs are very ingenious, and his drawings well executed. + He has been applied to for his advice. I waited on him yesterday, + and saw his sketches.... For the seal, he proposes the arms of the + several nations from whence _America_ has been peopled, as + _English_, _Scotch_, _Irish_, _Dutch_, _German_, etc., each in a + shield. On one side of them, Liberty with her pileus; on the other, + a Rifler in his uniform, with his rifle-gun in one hand, and his + tomahawk in the other: this dress, and these troops, with this kind + of armour, being peculiar to _America_, unless the dress was known + to the Romans. Dr. Franklin showed me a book containing an account + of the dresses of all the _Roman_ soldiers, one of which appeared + exactly like it.... Doctor Franklin proposes a device for a seal: + Moses lifting up his wand, and dividing the _Red Sea_, and + _Pharaoh_ in his chariot overwhelmed with the waters. This motto, + "Rebellion to Tyrants is obedience to God." + + Mr. Jefferson proposed the children of _Israel_ in the wilderness, + led by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night; and on the + other side _Hengist_ and _Horsa_, the _Saxon_ chiefs from whom we + claim the honor of being descended, and whose political principles + and form of government we have assumed. + + I proposed the choice of _Hercules_, as engraved by _Gribelin_, in + some editions of Lord _Shaftesbury's_ works. The hero resting on + his club; _Virtue_ pointing to her rugged mountain on one hand and + persuading him to ascend; _Sloth_, glancing at her flowery paths of + pleasure, wantonly reclining on the ground, displaying the charms + both of her eloquence and person, to seduce him into vice. But this + is too complicated a group for a seal or medal, and it is not + original. + +On August 20 the committee reported to Congress as follows: + + The great seal should on one side have the arms of the United States + of America, which arms should be as follows: + + The shield has six quarters, parts one coupe two. The first or, a + rose, enamelled gules and argent for England; the second argent, a + thistle proper for Scotland; the third vert, a harp or, for Ireland; + the fourth azure, a flower de luce, for France; the fifth or, the + imperial eagle, sable, for Germany, and the sixth or, the Belgic + lion, gules, for Holland; pointing out the countries from which the + States have been peopled. The shield within a border, gules, + entwined of thirteen escutcheons, argent, linked together by a chain + or, each charged with initial sable letters as follows: 1st. N.H.; + 2d, Mass.; 3d, R.I.; 4th, Conn.; 5th, N.Y.; 6th, N.J.; 7th, Penn.; + 8th, Del.; 9th, Md.; 10th, Va.; 11th, N.C; 12th, S.C; 13th, Geo.; + for each of the thirteen independent States of America. + + Supporters, _dexter_ the Goddess of Liberty, in a corselet of + armour, alluding to the present times; holding in her right hand + the spear and cap, and with her left supporting the shield of the + States; _sinister_, the Goddess of Justice, bearing a sword in her + right hand, and in her left a balance. + + Crest. The eye of Providence in a radiant triangle, whose glory + extends over the shield and beyond the figures. Motto, _E Pluribus + Unum_. + + Legend round the whole achievement: Seal of the United States of + America, MDCCLXXVI. + + On the other side of the said great seal should be the following + device: + + Pharaoh sitting in an open chariot, a crown on his head, and a sword + in his hand, passing through the divided waters of the Red Sea in + pursuit of the Israelites. Rays from a pillar of fire in the cloud, + expressive of the Divine presence and command, beaming on Moses, who + stands on the shore, and extending his hand over the sea, causes it + to overthrow Pharaoh. + + Motto, "Rebellion to Tyrants is obedience to God." + +Mr. Adams's letter fortunately gives us the key to this elaborate +blazon, else we might have been left for ever in the dark in regard to +its authorship. In the general achievement we easily recognize the hand +of the "gentleman of French extraction," M. du Simitiere, who perhaps +was induced to adopt the Goddess of Justice, with her sword and balance, +in lieu of his "Rifler with his rifle-gun," in deference to Mr. Adams's +taste for allegory. Dr. Franklin's happy if not original design, +illustrative of the preservation of the children of Israel from the maw +of Pharoah and the Red sea, with a squint also at the deliverance of the +colonies from George III. and the billows of tyranny, though sent to the +rear, was adopted in whole, as well as his motto. The pillar of fire in +the cloud was doubtless taken from the design of Mr. Jefferson, who +perhaps had to be propitiated because his children of Israel were +discarded in favor of Dr. Franklin's. It needed but the addition of his +Hengist and Horsa, and of Mr. Adams's irresolute Hercules between Vice +and Virtue, to make a great seal such as the world had never looked +upon. + +We, who look back through the gloze of a hundred years and are +accustomed to regard this trio of patriots as men with whom the +degenerate legislators of the present have little in common, may well +express astonishment that their work did not meet with immediate +approval. But history is a stern mistress, and we cannot efface the +record. The journal of Congress shows that the report of the committee +was ordered "to lie on the table," and we hear no more of it for three +long and momentous years. + +On March 25, 1779, it was ordered that the report of the committee on +the device of a great seal for the United States, in Congress assembled, +be referred to another committee. On May 10 this committee reported as +follows: + + The seal to be four inches in diameter, on one side the arms of the + United States, as follows: the shield charged in the field with + thirteen diagonal stripes alternately red and white. + + Supporters, _dexter_, a warrior holding a sword: _sinister_, a + figure representing Peace bearing an olive branch. + + The Crest, a radiant constellation of thirteen stars. + + The motto, _Bello vel Pace_. + + The legend round the achievement, "Seal of the United States." + + On the Reverse the figure of Liberty, seated in a chair, holding the + staff and cap. + + The Motto, "Semper," underneath MDCCLXXVI. + +This report was taken into consideration on May 17, and after debate +ordered to be recommitted. The result was another report: + + The seal to be three inches in diameter, on one side the arms of the + United States, as follows: the shield charged in the field azure, + with thirteen diagonal stripes, alternate rouge and argent. + + Supporters, _dexter_, a warrior holding a sword; _sinister_, a + figure representing Peace, bearing the olive branch. + + The Crest, a radiant constellation, of thirteen stars. + + The motto, _Bello vel Pace_. + + The legend round the achievement, "The Great Seal of the United + States." + + On the Reverse, _Virtute Perennis_, underneath MDCCLXXVII. + + A miniature of the face of the great seal and half its diameter to + be prepared and affixed as the less seal of the United States. + +But our critical forefathers were still dissatisfied, and exhibited no +more disposition to adopt the false heraldry of the committee of 1779 +than the allegorical and Biblical monstrosity of that of 1776. Three +years more of incubation were needed to hatch the "bird o' freedom," and +it is not until 1782 that we hear of a further movement. On June 13 of +that year, William Barton of Philadelphia proposed the following for the +arms of the United States: + + Arms, Paleways of thirteen pieces argent and gules; a chief azure, + the escutcheon placed on the breast of the American (the + bald-headed) eagle, displayed proper; holding in his beak a scroll + inscribed with the motto, viz., _E Pluribus Unum_, and in his + dexter talon a palm or olive branch, in the other a bundle of + thirteen arrows, all proper. + + For the Crest, over the head of the eagle, which appears above the + escutcheon, a glory, or, breaking through a cloud, proper, and + surrounding thirteen stars forming a constellation, argent on an + azure field. + + In the exergue of the great seal, "Jul. IV. MDCCLXXVI." + + In the margin of the same, "Sigil Mag. Repub. Confed. Americ." + +Mr. Barton proposed also a second device, which needs no notice, as it +did not meet with approval. + +On the same day, the committee of Congress, then composed of Messrs. +Middleton (S. C), Boudinot (Penn.), and Rutledge (S. C), reported a +modification of Mr. Barton's device. The reports of the several +committees were then referred to the Secretary of Congress, and on June +20, 1782, the Secretary reported the following device for an armorial +achievement and reverse of the great seal of the United States, which +was formally adopted: + + Arms. Paleways of thirteen pieces, argent and gules, a chief, azure; + the escutcheon on the breast of the American eagle displayed proper, + holding in his dexter talon an olive branch, and in his sinister a + bundle of thirteen arrows, all proper, and in his beak a scroll + inscribed with this motto, _E Pluribus Unum_. + + For the Crest. Over the head of the eagle, which appears above the + escutcheon, a glory, or, breaking through a cloud, proper, and + surrounding thirteen stars forming a constellation, argent, on an + azure field. + + Reverse. A pyramid unfinished. In the zenith an eye in a triangle, + surrounded with a glory, proper. Over the eye these words, _Annuit + Coeptis_. On the base of the pyramid the numerical letters + MDCCLXXVI. And underneath the following motto, _Novus Ordo + Seclorum_. + + The interpretation of these devices is as follows: The escutcheon is + composed of the chief and pale, the two most honorable ordinaries. + The pieces pale represent the several States, all joined in one + solid, compact, and entire, supporting a chief which unites the + whole and represents Congress. The pales in the arms are kept + closely united by the chief, and the chief depends on that union and + the strength resulting from it, for its support, to denote the + confederacy of the United States of America, and the preservation of + their union through Congress. + + The colors of the pales are those used in the flag of the United + States of America; white signifies purity and innocence; red, + hardiness and valor; and blue, the color of the chief, signifies + vigilance, perseverance, and justice. + + The olive branch and arrows denote the power of peace and war, which + is exclusively vested in Congress. The constellation denotes a new + State taking its place and rank among the sovereign powers; the + escutcheon is borne on the breast of the American eagle, without any + other supporters, to denote that the United States of America ought + to rely on their own virtue. + + Reverse. The pyramid signifies strength and duration: the eye over + it and the motto allude to the many and signal interpositions of + Providence in favor of the American cause. The date underneath it is + that of the Declaration of Independence; and the words under it + signify the beginning of the new era, which commences from that + date. + +After the ratification of the Constitution, this seal was formally +declared to be the seal of the United States, on September 15, 1789, and +on March 2, 1799, its custody was given to the Secretary of State, who +was empowered to affix it to such commissions, etc., as had previously +received the signature of the President. + +Lossing, in his "Field Book of the Revolution," has the following, in +relation to the origin of the device on the seal: "In a manuscript +letter before me, written in 1818, by Thomas Barritt, Esq., an eminent +antiquary of Manchester, England, addressed to his son in this country, +is the following statement: 'My friend, Sir John Prestwich, Bart., told +me he was the person who suggested the idea of a coat of arms for the +American States to an ambassador [John Adams] from thence, which they +have seen fit to put upon some of their moneys. It is this he told +me--party per pale of thirteen stripes, white and red; the chief of the +escutcheon blue, signifying the protection of heaven over the States. He +says it was soon afterwards adopted as the arms of the States, and to +give it more consequence, it was placed upon the breast of a displayed +eagle.'" + +But it is far more probable that the colors of the shield were suggested +by the stripes and union of the flag, which was adopted nearly a year +before Mr. Adams's first visit to Europe. Yet it is worthy of note, in +this connection, that the stripes in the flag are arranged alternately +red and white, which gives seven of the former and six of the latter; +while in the arms they are white and red, thus making seven white and +six red pales. In the seal of the Board of Admiralty (now the Navy +Department), adopted May 4, 1780, the stripes are arranged as in the +flag. + +The critical reader will not fail to note a few heraldic lapses in the +arms as blazoned by the secretary of Congress, such as the omission of +the tincture of the scroll, and the denominating the collection of stars +a crest. By a somewhat similar error in the law by which our flag was +adopted, no method of arrangement of the stars in the union is +prescribed. + +Notwithstanding that the great seal as adopted had an obverse and a +reverse, there is nothing to show that the reverse was ever made. Why +this was neglected does not appear of record. Nor does there seem to be +any means of ascertaining by what authority one half of the seal is made +to do duty for the whole. It is certainly not authorized by any law. Is +not its use then by the State department technically illegal? + +But this is not all. The seal as originally engraved was in accordance +with the requirements of the law, but in 1841, Daniel Webster then being +Secretary of State, a new seal was made, probably because the old one +had become worn, and for some reasons not now discoverable, several +alterations were made in the design. In the shield of the seal thus +made, the red pales are twice the width of the white ones, so that it +reads heraldically, argent, six pales gules, instead of "palewise of +thirteen pieces, argent and gules," as expressed in the adopted report. +In the original, too, the eagle held in his sinister talon a "bundle of +thirteen arrows," but the poor bird grasps but a meagre six in the new +seal. There was some significance in the former number, all of which is +lost in the change. Application to the State department for the reasons +for these deviations from the original seal resulted in only the +following: "This change does not appear to have been authorized by law, +and the cause of it is not known." + +Is it possible that an arbitrary alteration can be made in the great +seal of the United States by officials temporarily in charge of it? And +if so, what is to prevent some future Secretary of State, with notions +of his own in regard to heraldic bearings, from discarding the old seal +altogether, in favor of some creation of his own? The nation was +providentially saved from the artistic efforts of Jefferson, Adams, and +Franklin; but what guaranty have we for the future? + +JOHN D. CHAMPLIN, JR. + + + + +DRIFT-WOOD. + + +THE TIMES AND THE CUSTOMS. + +It will be four years in September since the crash of Jay Cooke +announced that hard times had come. During the _debacle_ continuing +from that day to this, the exposed rascalities of swindling +corporations have shown how full the world still is of sheep eager to +be fleeced, of geese to be plucked. Government officers prey on the +people; the people, on each other; the giant plunderer is the stock +company, to whose vast gobblings the pilfering of a Tweed or Winslow is +a mere sugar-plum. The individual swindler feels himself a rogue, +whereas the chartered thief holds a high head, builds him a palace from +the spoils of his victims, and curses their impudence when they +complain. They are legion, these mismanaged or fraudulent mining +companies, land improvement companies, artificial light companies, +normal food companies (for introducing camel-hump steaks to the +American breakfast-table), and, above all, railroad companies, savings +funds, and life insurance companies. + +Satirists lash the sham enterprises--"Universal Association for Squaring +the Circle," "American and Asiatic Consolidated Perpetual Motion +Society," and what not; nowadays the main mischief is done not by these +transparent humbugs, but by the genuine companies, that fairly invite +trust and then betray it. Salted mines, watered stocks, lying +prospectuses, bribed experts, bought legislatures, packed meetings, +borrowed dividends, thimble-rig reports--we all know the tricks of +"substantial" enterprises. It is not the seedy adventurers, the Jeremy +Diddlers and Montague Tiggs of our day, that entrap the thrifty and ruin +the intelligent, but the high-toned trust and commercial companies, +seeming to be solid. These have wheels within wheels, rings within the +ring, whereby many shareholders can be tricked by few; for, as the +shellfish has foes that bore through his tough house and suck out the +unfortunate tenant within, so credit mobiliers, fast freight lines, +super-salaried officers, contractors for supplies, construction agents, +and the like, suck out the value of a stock company, and leave the +shareholders the shells. Let not a posterity of _laudatores temporis +acti_ sigh over ours as the Golden Age of commercial honesty. It is +only the Greenback Age. It is not even the Silver Age, unless, haply, +the German Silver--that is to say, the Plated or Pinchbeck Age. We might +perhaps style it the Brazen Age, in view of the all-pervading brass of +corporation claqueurs and drummers; or we might very well call it the +Shoddy or the Peter Funk Jewelry Age. + +Still, our ancestry were worse beset with quack corporations. Mackay +mentions over eighty speculative companies that rose with the South Sea +bubble and were all crushed in a bunch by the privy council: one, a +company for getting silver out of lead; another, for developing +perpetual motion; a third, for insuring householders against losses by +servants--capital, $15,000,000; a fourth, "a company for carrying on an +undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is"--capital, +$2,500,000 in 5,000 shares of $500 each, on $10 deposit per share, which +deposit nearly a thousand persons actually paid on the first half day +the books were opened, so that before night the rascally manager was off +with $10,000 booty. Besides the matured projects, many companies +existing only on paper were able to sell "privileges to subscribe," when +formed, at $200 or $300 each; for in that day of manias people in Great +Britain paid premiums for the first chance to put their money into +companies for freshening salt water, extracting oil from sunflowers, +buying forfeited estates, capturing pirates, insuring children's +fortunes, fattening hogs, fishing for wrecks, and importing jackasses +from Spain--which last was surely bringing coals to Newcastle. As for +such really solid enterprises as the South Sea bubble, their shares rose +to a thousand per cent, above par. + +Perhaps another South Sea bubble could not easily be blown; the Darien +canal will hardly excite a fever of speculation like William Paterson's +Darien project of one hundred and eighty years ago, for which prayers +were offered in the Edinburgh churches; we are not likely to see a +Mississippi scheme of the sort which caused cooks to struggle with +courtiers for places in the Rue de Quinquempoix to buy John Law's +shares, while office rents in that stock-jobbing thoroughfare rose from +five hundred to sixty thousand livres a year. But our late American +experience shows how swift men are to trust their hard-earned gains to +corporate enterprises simply on the reputation of the managers. +Insurance frauds and railroad wreckings thrive on the trustfulness of +professional men and the narrow scope of tradesmen. The latter find +sufficient occupation in the little gains of each day, and often are +puzzled how to employ the surplus. To spend it would be unthrifty; to +roll it in a napkin, bad stewardship; they are apt to be caught by the +popular stock companies or by some scheme of speculation. These +glittering prizes also attract sapient "men of business" who have been +entrusted with investing the funds of widows and children. From such +sources flow the rills that make the mighty rivers of stock enterprises, +so that, having gathered up the spare cash of the shopkeepers and the +annuitants, their bursting makes wide havoc. + +Goodman Thompson's simple skill and joy are to gain five cents here, ten +there, a dollar yonder; three customers have bought at nine o'clock +to-day, at eleven the sales number fifteen, at noon no fewer than two +dozen; whereas at midday yesterday they were only twenty-three. Brooding +over these statistics, worthy Thompson fills up the day, the year, the +lifetime in modest local glory, until the name of John Thompson, grocer, +is taken from his door and put upon his coffin-plate, and John +Thompson's son continues the trade in his stead. Absorbed, I say, in +such details, some men seem strangely careless what the gross of their +gains is, or how secured--their pleasure is "doing business" rather than +growing rich, and equal fortunes by bequest would hardly give them the +same comfort; others, and the majority, are not so careless, but are as +surprisingly stupid, incautious, and gullible in investing their daily +gains as they are sharp and shrewd in getting them. That is why they put +their trust in treacherous princes of finance and railroad kings; that +is why sharpers of good moral character in savings and insurance +companies make many victims. It is wonderful how many tradesmen, subtle +and sagacious in their callings, thrive in the hard task of driving +bargains, only to lose their earnings to palpable knaves, or else by +making hap-hazard investments. Their faculty of accumulation seems like +that of the bee or the ant, good only to a given point, and within the +use of given methods; it seems to fail when sober judgment on +speculative fevers is called for. + +But the hard times have temporarily taught first, caution; next, +economy. Caution unluckily has run to suspicion, while economy has +issued in a dearth of employment: thus the correctives applied to hard +times have perpetuated them. People are buying not only less, but +sometimes at second hand, so that every trade suffers--unless it be that +of the coffin-makers; I never knew anybody who wanted a second-hand +coffin. The economy that America usually needs is perhaps less that of +refraining from buying than that of turning things to account. The man +who needlessly cuts down his expenses is hardly so praiseworthy as the +one who only makes every thread yield its best uses. + +A national fault of ours is that of not getting the full use of things. +European cities, for example, earn millions a year by selling their +street dirt. American cities pay millions to get rid of it. In Europe +it dresses sterile soil; in America it is dumped into channels to +obstruct navigation. One can almost admire the humble Paris +_chiffoniers_, as being a guild employed in redeeming to a hundred +services what has been thrown away as useless--they rescue vast +fortunes yearly. On the Pennsylvania oil lands twenty men put up a +derrick, sink a test well, and fail. Sixteen out of the twenty +reorganize, sink a new well within fifty rods of the other, build a new +derrick, and never touch the old one, leaving it to rot. The expense of +this kind of machinery is great; and yet out of the abandoned derricks +in the oil regions you could almost build a timber track from Corry to +New York. It is, I say, almost a national trait to accumulate what will +be left to rust unused--although it is doubtless not American ladies +alone that fill their wardrobes with garments never worn out. When a +European friend of mine came to travel in this country, one of his +first surprises was the hundreds of miles of expensive fences he saw +enclosing very ordinary fields; next he noted the unused ground along +the tracks of railroads. "That land would all be covered with +vegetables in our country," he said. At his hotels he thought there was +more wasted in labor, food, and superfluities than would have sufficed +to reduce the cost of living by a third; indeed, I fancy he believed +that despite our cry of "hard times" and "enforced economy," the sheer +current _waste_ of America would pay the national debt in a year. + + +VICTOR HUGO. + +What freshness and fecundity in the veteran poet who signalizes his +seventy-sixth birthday by publishing the "Legende des Siecles"! +Hugoesque alike in its grand apostrophes and its gentle idyls, in its +resounding declamation and its simple pathos, this new outcome of an old +mint has every coin stamped with the image and superscription of its +creator--Hugo's in thought, feeling, audacious style, easy +versification, quaint novelty of metaphor; Hugo's in its cadence by +turns joyous and mournful, now in sonorous, thrilling ballads of battle, +anon in charming genre fireside pictures, here riotous in rhetoric, +there pedantic in research, everywhere lofty in aspiration, though +pushing oddity almost to madness. + +Through all his works, what a mixture of genius and grotesqueness, of +majesty and absurdity in that wonderful man! Take his "Ninety-Three"--a +novel monstrously nonsensical and surprisingly splendid--a novel +demonstrating that to pass from the ridiculous to the sublime, as well +as the other way, needs but a step. With what magnetic power one of its +first incidents, the rushing about of the loose gun on shipboard, is +wrought out! You begin by despising the frivolity of the scene, and +momentarily wait to see the writer ludicrously break down in his +preposterous attempt at imposing on your credulity. By degrees the +situation is filled in till each successive objection of skepticism is +somehow spirited away, and even the foreign reader, sympathetically +following the working of the French mind, is startled at his own +yielding. This episode of the roving cannon ranks with the devil-fish +scene in the "Toilers of the Sea," where also the reader finds +appreciative horror overcoming his first impulse of contemptuous +incredulity. + +Or, again, if you take the boat scene in "Ninety-Three," between the +sailor and count, you agree, at the end, that it is not overstrained. +Yet think of that frail skiff in the open British Channel, with the +waves running high, and say if the scene was possible. When Halmalo put +down his oars and the old man stood up at full height in the bow, the +boat must have swung into the trough of the sea and capsized in an +instant; if lack of steering failed to upset her, the old man's +performance would have done so; but we forget that trifle in the +dramatic intensity of the situation. The learned Sergeant Hill, talking +with a young law student regarding the will of "Clarissa Harlowe," told +him, "You will find that not one of the uses or trusts in it can be +supported." A sergeant of artillery would be equally severe on the +evolutions and skirmishes in "Ninety-Three"; but the genius of Hugo +triumphs over such blunders, like Shakespeare's over the seaports in +Bohemia. + +"A poet is a world shut up in a man," says the "Legende," whose own +variety of theme helps to justify the definition. We have here the +majestic conceptions of the "Mur des Siecles," the "Vanished City," the +"Hymn to Earth," the "Epic of the Worm"; therewith we also have the +music and beauty of the "Groupe des Idylles." On one page the reader +is touched with sympathy by the "Cemetery of Eylau" and the "Guerre +Civile"; on another he is stirred by the scorn in the "Anger of the +Bronze," or by the hate in "Napoleon III. after Sedan": + + _Cet homme a pour prison l'ignominic immense, + On pouvait le tuer, mais on fut sans clemence._ + +The city whose praise Victor Hugo never tires of sounding, and that has +adored and lampooned him for almost half a century, breaks out in a +prolonged concord of eulogy for these old-age strains, which recall no +little of the force, fire, and finish of twenty, forty years ago. Well +may the Parisians laud this man of mingled ruggedness and delicacy, +whose imagination has not yet lost its boldness with age, nor the heart +its warmth--the bard, in mockery of whom, nevertheless, they were lately +repeating with gusto the comical parody of a local wit: + + _Oh, huho, Hugo! ou huchera-t-on ton nom + Justice encore rendue que ne t'a-t-on? + Et quand sera-ce qu'au corps qu' Academique on nomme, + Grimperas-tu de roc en roc, rare homme?_ + + +EVOLUTIONARY HINTS FOR NOVELISTS. + +We have Sheridan's authority that an oyster may be crossed in love--in +fact, Miss Zimmern has written a story about an oyster that actually was +a prey to the tender passion; we have Shakespeare's authority that a +hind will die of it, if she unfortunately seeks to be mated with a lion; +while it is a regular thing in the land of the cypress and myrtle (if +Lord Byron can be trusted) for the rage of the vulture to madden to +crime. + +Still it was reserved for Darwin himself to give the great modern cue +to novelists in their study of human nature, by his "Descent of Man," +where he says that "injurious characters tend to reappear through +reversion, such as blackness in sheep; and with mankind some of the +worst dispositions which occasionally without any assignable cause make +their reappearance in families, _may perhaps he reversions to a savage +state_ from which we are not removed by many generations. _This view +seems recognized in the common expression that such men are the 'black +sheep of the family.'_" + +Now, whatever we may think of the odd logic of this passage, it clearly +stakes out a ground and preempts a claim for evolution as applied to +romantic literature. None of us could really blame the modern lover if, +in making a woful ballad to his mistress's eyebrow, he should slyly but +anxiously examine whether that eyebrow contained "a few hairs larger +than the rest, corresponding to the vibrissae of the lower animals." This +does occur in some eyebrows, we know; and as it is also clear from the +authorities first quoted, and many more that might be cited, that the +lower animals are capable of human passions, the cautious and +scientifically disposed lover of the modern epoch can hardly be asked to +take a mere manifestation of the heavenly instinct as proof of many +grades of removal, in his Dulcinea, from the condition of the oyster, +the hind, or, alas! the vulture. + +Hence, even in protesting that his lady's beauty hangs on the cheek of +night like a rich jewel in an AEthiop's ear, naturally the modern Romeo +may not avoid a glance to see whether his Juliet's ear contains that +fatal auricular "blunt point" denoting assimilation to the lower +animals. And so it is with the work henceforth laid out for novelists: +the stereotyped heroine, with coral lips, pearly teeth, eyes of a +gazelle, raven locks, swan-like neck, and so on, should be carefully +guarded from too great animal resemblances, and above all from +"rudiments" or signs of reversion. + +Perhaps it would be going too far to announce bluntly that "Lady +Amarantha's toes had not the remotest indication of ever having been +webbed," or to put on record the official declaration of Fifine, the +maid, that her fair mistress never had been able to erect her ears; +still the novelists might do well to take note of those two or three +points in which Mr. St. George Mivart and Mr. Wallace have pointed out +the great distinctions between men and apes, and so adroitly work them +up in those personal descriptions which form a delicious part of modern +novels, as to give their heroes and heroines a pedigree impregnable to +the most critically scientific scrutiny. Hints, also, I think, might be +gathered from the treatment of love on the evolution hypothesis, which +has been essayed by no less an authority than Herbert Spencer, who has +besides traced the changes in the methods of expressing passionate +emotions by gestures and cries, as our humble ancestry developed to +women and men. + +Physiology, too, is not the only department into which the novelist of +the future must extend his studies. Under the doctrine of evolution, +sexual selection is at the basis of the variation of species; and what +new fields are open to the novelist, when he reflects for a moment that +his main task is only to depict the prosperities and adversities +attending such a mutual selection on the part of Albert and Angelina! + +PHILIP QUILIBET. + + + + +SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + + * * * * * + +THE TELEPHONE. + +Great interest in telegraphic subjects has lately been aroused in the +American public by exhibitions of the telephone, an instrument for +transmitting sound vibrations by electricity. Two general forms of this +instrument are known, in one of which a series of tuning forks +communicates with a precisely similar series at the other end of the +wire, and the signals made to one are repeated by the other. A more +interesting form, and the one that has lately attracted so much +attention, is that which receives and transmits ordinary vocal sounds. +The operator talks to a membrane, and at the other end of the wire is a +resonator of some kind which talks to the auditor there. The fundamental +idea of the machine is not new. It was at first proposed to use it for +transmitting electric signals without a wire, and in that view a trial +was made with it during the siege of Paris. The armistice interrupted +the operations, but M. Bourbouze, the experimenter, and other inventors +have continued to study the subject, Mr. A. G. Bell, professor of vocal +physiology in Boston, being among them. M. Bourbouze used a vibrating +needle the movements of which were effected by sound waves, and another +Frenchman, M. Reuss, introduced the sounding box with its membrane. This +is a box with a membrane stretched over the top and a short tube of +large diameter in the side. The operator talks to this tube, and the box +strengthens the sound, which finally affects the membrane, causing it to +vibrate. Resting upon this membrane is a thin copper disc attached to a +wire leading from the electrical battery. Above and very near it hangs a +metallic point, which forms the end of a wire leading to the place to +which the message is to be sent. The membrane rises slightly with every +vibration, and touching the point, a current is established and +communication effected with the distant point; but this communication +ceases as soon as the vibration stops, and the membrane assumes a state +of rest. As every simple note is produced by a definite number of air +vibrations, and every compound sound is made up of the sum of several +simple notes, the apparatus transmits a definite number of vibrations +for each sound which it receives; and if those vibrations can be +communicated to the air at any point, however distant, the original +sounds will be reproduced. In short, the instrument may be explained as +one invented to transmit air vibrations by electricity. + +The receiver consists of an iron rod about the size of a knitting +needle, wound with insulated copper wire, and supported on a wood box +having very thin sides. The rod vibrates with every passage of the +current, and the thin box increases the amount of these vibrations and +makes them audible. It is found best to introduce several rods into the +insulated coil, as with only one the sound produced is rather snuffling. +In either case, however, the vibrations of the rod are exactly the same +as those of the membrane, and even the character of the sound is +automatically reproduced. + +The description here given is that of Reuss's instrument, which was +illustrated last year in the French paper "La Nature." The exact +construction of Mr. Bell's telephone has not been made public, but it +seems to be quite similar. He is said to make his vibrating membrane of +metal. The greatest distance to which sounds have been sent is one +hundred and forty-three miles, from Boston to North Conway, N.H. The +instrument is not yet perfect, the sounds being frequently indistinct. +With a private wire and two persons accustomed to each other's voices it +would probably be a greater success. It is therefore likely to be +quickly introduced into business uses. At present some rather wild +anticipations are indulged in by the daily press, but the instrument +probably has a really remarkable future before it. + + * * * * * + +DAMAGES BY AN INSECT. + +Traffic on railways and canals has diminished, public taxes do not pay +for collection, and poverty, privation, and misery have come upon +twenty-five departments of France from the ravages of the phylloxera +insect which attacks the roots of the grapevines. Such is the official +report of a committee appointed by the Academy of Sciences. The +important districts of Champagne, Burgundy, the Loire, and the Cher, are +now threatened, and from the greatly extended foothold which the insect +has now gained it is feared that its operations will be very rapid. It +is not impossible that the principal industry of France will be crippled +for years. In spite of all this, wine is now quite cheap. The hard times +have lessened consumption, and the product is so huge--900,000,000 +litres, or 180,000,000 gallons yearly from France alone--that the stock +in the market is maintained in spite of the great ravages of the insect. +The cheapest claret is sold in New York for $40 a cask, or about 66 +cents a gallon. Of this 24 cents is for duty. + + * * * * * + +THE SUMMER SCIENTIFIC SCHOOLS. + +Summer schools of science proved very popular last year, and are to be +continued this season. A lady who studied in the botanical school at +Harvard said that work began properly at nine o'clock and continued to +twelve; but the pupils were so eager to reap all possible benefit from +the six weeks' course, that some were in the laboratory by 7:30 in the +morning. One lady made herself sick in a week by over study, and many +others injured themselves by too close application. The Professor +finally prohibited work out of the regular hours. The schools will be +reopened July 6, and continue to August 17, the term being six weeks +long; applications to be made by June 1. The courses will be five in +number, as follows: General chemistry and qualitative analysis, under +Mr. C. F. Mabery, to whom (at Cambridge) applications must be sent; fee, +$25 and cost of supplies. Phaenogamic botany, by Prof. George L. Goodale; +fee, $25. For lectures without laboratory practice the charge is $10. +Cryptogamic botany will be taught by Prof. W. G. Farlow; fee, $25. +Microscopes, etc., are provided by the university. Students in this +course should have a previous knowledge of phaenogamic botany. In +addition to laboratory practice excursions will be made and lectures +given. Prof. Farlow's address is 6 Park Square, Boston. + +Prof. N. S. Shaler and Mr. Wm. M. Davis, Jr., will give a course in +geology, including instruction in Cambridge, and a trip through +Massachusetts to New York. The tuition fee is $50, and other costs +_about_ $50 for board and lodging, and $25 for travelling expenses. +When the regular excursion is finished a more extended trip will be made +if desired, to the Mammoth Cave and other localities, on the way to +Nashville, where the American Association will have its next meeting. + +Lastly, the school provides a course on zooelogy, by Mr. W. Faxon and Mr. +W. K. Brooks; fee, $25. It will comprise lectures, laboratory work, and +excursions to the neighboring seashores. Apply to Mr. W. Faxon, +Cambridge, Massachusetts. + + +_The Cornell Excursion._ + +Cornell university also has its summer school of natural history, and it +will take a peculiar form this year. Prof. Theodore B. Comstock +proposes, if sufficient encouragement is given before May 1, to charter +a steamer and spend six weeks on the great lakes. The cheapness of +steamer travel makes a trip of this kind in very comfortable style +possible at moderate expense. The price is fixed at $125, which includes +tuition fee and every other expense, for thirty days; and $3.50 per day +for ten days more. The time may be extended beyond forty days by a +majority vote of the excursionists. Buffalo or Cleveland will be the +starting point, and the line of travel will be around the south shore of +the lakes Erie, Huron, and Superior, returning by the north shore. The +steamer will be a free rover, and visit places outside of the usual +lines of travel. Lectures will be given and dredging done, the results +of which will be distributed among the pupils, and shares may also be +subscribed for by schools, teachers, and others. These shares will +entitle the holders to part of the botanical and zoological collections +made. + + +_Williams Rocky Mountain Excursion._ + +A more private but very extended excursion will be made by Williams +college students, under the care of Prof. Sanborn Tenney, who holds the +chair of natural history in the college. No fees are charged, and Prof. +Tenney receives no compensation. The number of students is limited to +fifteen, who will for the most part pay their own expenses, and the +expedition is not open to the public. The students are selected with +reference to the study of geology and mineralogy, botany, and the +various departments of zooelogy, entomology, ornithology, ichthyology. +Extensive collections will be made in all departments of natural +history, which will be deposited in the Williams college natural history +museum and the lyceum of natural history in the college. The excursion +will start early in July and return in time for the regular autumn +college opening. This is evidently intended to be one of the most +important enterprises of the year for field instruction. + + +_A Texas Trip._ + +Butler college, Irvington, Indiana, will send an expedition to Texas, +with headquarters at Dallas in that State. Studies in geology and +natural history will be mainly pursued, and collections made of birds, +fishes, reptiles, insects, plants, and fossils. The number of students +will be from ten to twenty-five, and they will leave Indianapolis June +20, under the charge of Prof. John A. Myers. Mammoth Cave, Lookout +mountain, and other places of interest in Tennessee and Alabama, will be +visited, and the party will return in time for the Association for the +Advancement of Science meeting at Nashville. Dallas, which is to be the +centre of operations, is a thriving town in the grazing region of Texas, +and is a good place for the study of botany and zooelogy. + +Another lake excursion is projected by the Institute of Mining +Engineers, who expect to spend two weeks in visiting the famous mining +districts of that region. Though not precisely a "summer school," this +will be both a professional and social excursion. + +A committee of Wisconsin teachers recommend the introduction of this +system of summer schools in that State. They want to have a class formed +under Prof. T. C. Chamberlin, State geologist, to commence at St. Croix +Falls, and make geological, zooelogical, and botanical studies down the +Mississippi to Rock Island. Headquarters would be on a large boat. + +Directors of other summer schools are requested to send notices of the +work they are planning to do to the office of this magazine. + + * * * * * + +AN INTELLIGENT QUARANTINE. + +The quarantine history of New York was quite remarkable in 1876. Yellow +fever was epidemic at several ports along the Gulf and Atlantic coast, +and no less than 363 vessels came into New York from those ports, +ninety-nine of which had the disease on board, either during the voyage +or in port. Under these circumstances, it may be supposed that the +authorities were not disposed to encourage commerce between the city +and the infected towns. Philadelphia and Baltimore adopted an +interdiction of all trade with Savannah, as a precaution. But a bolder +and wiser policy has gradually been introduced into the New York +quarantine. Instead of being a loser by the yellow fever, that city was +called upon to take the whole trade, and did so without hesitation, +though the voyage from Charleston and some other ports occupied less +time than the average incubation period of the disease, which might be +introduced unnoticed into the city unless preventative measures were +taken. Orders were given to receive no passengers from the afflicted +cities, so that the quarantine authorities had only the cargo and crew +to deal with. The ship was thoroughly fumigated and the cargo +discharged as rapidly as was consistent with safe supervision. This +rapid discharge is advised because a ship's heated hold is just the +place for the full development of the fomites. If the cargo does carry +the germs of the disease, the worst thing that can be done is to leave +it in the ship, which is then likely to become a pest-house. Prompt +removal reduces the danger to a minimum. By this intelligent course New +York was able to keep open her communication with Savannah in the +height of the epidemic, and she was the only city on the Atlantic to do +so. More cotton than ever came to her harbor. The hygienic results are +noticeable. Although more than a thousand deaths occurred in Savannah, +not one case of yellow fever reached the _city_ of New York by water. +Two or three cases of sickness from vessels occurred in that city and +Brooklyn; but though these were said to be yellow fever, their +subsequent history did not sustain the supposition. They were probably +a form of malarial fever which so nearly resembles the more dreaded +disease that time is required to distinguish between them. Two cases of +real yellow fever reached the city by rail, but all others were stopped +at quarantine, which contained patients from January to the latter part +of October, excepting one month--May. In all, sixty were treated there, +most of whom were supposed to have yellow fever; but of these only +thirty-nine really had that disease, the remainder having the peculiar +form of malarial fever before spoken of. These results sustain the +intelligent action of the quarantine officers who have stripped off the +terrors which once hung about the name quarantine, and still do in so +many parts of the world and of our own country. + + * * * * * + +THE "GRASSHOPPER COMMISSION." + +The last Congress made an appropriation of $18,000 for an Entomological +Commission, and for once the Government has made a perfectly +satisfactory series of appointments. Prof. C. V. Riley, the +distinguished and experienced State entomologist of Missouri, is the +chief of the commission, while Prof. Cyrus Thomas, State Entomologist of +Illinois, one of the most noted American authorities, and Dr. A. S. +Packard, author of several works on insect and other morphology, are its +other members. They will have their headquarters at Dr. Hayden's office, +in Washington, and also a Western office in St. Louis. In the division +of work Prof. Riley takes the country east of the Rocky mountains and +south of the forty-eighth parallel, Prof. Thomas has Minnesota, +Nebraska, South Dakota, and East Wyoming, and Dr. Packard the remainder +of the country west of these two areas. The object of the commission may +be stated to be the discovery of the best means of lessening the ravages +of insects upon American crops; but to learn this it will be necessary +to study not only the life histories of the grasshopper and Colorado +beetle, but also their climatic and geographical relations. The damage +done by insects probably amounts to some scores of millions yearly, and +it has long been apparent that one of the next services demanded of +scientific men would be efficient aid and direction in the warfare of +man against his smallest foes in the animal world. In the early history +of a country, it is possible to provide against these losses by +cultivating an excess of land, but when population becomes concentrated +it is necessary to avoid the loss. The destructiveness of insects has +never attracted so much attention as within the last half century, which +is also notable as a period of extraordinary increase in the population +of the civilized portions of the world. Now that the welfare of a great +empire has been seriously threatened by the operations of one insect, +and several States in our own country have been so overrun with another +insect that both the States concerned and the general Government have +been compelled to modify their laws in order to afford relief to +farmers, the important relation of insect to human life has become +clear, and is receiving due attention. + + * * * * * + +SURVEYING PLANS FOR THE SEASON. + +The work of the Government surveys will not be stopped by the +unfortunate failure of Congress to pass an appropriation for the army. +Hayden's party Will be in field by the middle of May, and Wheeler will, +no doubt, be equally prompt. The former will confine his work to the +region north of the Pacific railroad and east of the Yellowstone Park. +The triangulating party, under Mr. A. D. Wilson, will survey a system of +triangles, and locate the principal peaks. Mr. Henry Gannett will take +charge of the topographical work in the western and Mr. G. B. Chittenden +in the eastern half of the field. A fourth division, under Mr. G. R. +Bechler, will survey in the northern portion, near the Yellowstone Park. +Each of these divisions contains about ten thousand square miles, so +that if the parties are able to complete their work, the ground covered +will be quite large. + + * * * * * + +THE CAUSES OF VIOLENT DEATH. + +The violent deaths in Great Britain in 1874 were no less than 17,920, +the highest number ever registered. There were 18 executions and 1,592 +suicides, so that 16,310 may be classed as unexpected. Railways killed +1,249, horse conveyances 1,313, and it is noted that those modes of +conveyance which are mostly peculiar to cities were not responsible for +this great slaughter. Street, or so-called horse railroads, killed 62 +persons, omnibuses 55, cabs 61, and carriages 82, and these numbers show +how great is the skill and care exercised in the crowded streets of +cities. The source of the remaining 1,053 deaths by horses is not given +in our authority (a Scotch paper), but it is probable that exercise in +the saddle had much to do with them. There were 942 deaths in coal +mines, and 118 in copper, tin, iron, and other mines. Lightning killed +25, sunstroke 90, and cold 114. There were 461 persons poisoned, about +one-third being suicides. The bite of a fox, of a rat, of a leech, the +scratch of a cat, and the sting of a hornet each killed one person, and +two were stung to death by wasps. Of other noteworthy causes of death, +it is mentioned that a girl fourteen years old died in childbed. + + * * * * * + +A NEW INDUCTION COIL. + +The largest induction coil ever made has lately been constructed for Mr. +Wm. Spottiswoode by Mr. Apps. It has two primaries, of which the one +used for long sparks weighs sixty-seven pounds and is formed of a bundle +of iron wires 44 inches long and 3.5625 inches in diameter. The wire is +0.032 inch in diameter. This primary has 660 yards of copper wire 0.096 +inch in diameter, and wound in 1,344 turns in six layers. The spark +obtained with this primary is remarkably long in proportion to the +battery power used. With five Grove's quart cells the spark was 28 +inches, with ten cells 35 inches, with thirty cells 37.5 inches and 42 +inches, and it is thought that even better results could be obtained. +The insulation is so good that seventy cells have been used without +injury. The condenser is smaller than usual, being of the size commonly +used with a ten-inch coil. It has 126 sheets of tinfoil, 18 by 8-1/4 +inches, separated by two sheets of varnished paper. The other primary is +heavier than the above described, weighing 92 pounds. The secondary coil +contains 280 miles of wire, in 341,850 turns. It is used for +spectroscopes and for short sparks. The power of this instrument is +really comparable to that of lightning. A block of flint glass three +inches thick has been pierced with the 28-inch spark. + + * * * * * + +FRENCH PROPERTY OWNERS. + +The financial strength of the French is a constant marvel to other +nations. Political economists point to the single standard of coinage or +to the double standard, according as they consider France to adhere to +one or the other of these systems, as the source of this strength. But +the difference between that and other nations is probably more +conspicuous in the management of government loans than in any other +thing. The French government does not depend on syndicates. More than +four million French men and women have subscribed to the public debt, +and whatever arrangements are made with great bankers, the common people +of France are always invited to take a part of the bonds at a fixed and +fair price. That country is noticeably distinguished from Great Britain +by the equally wide distribution of land. There are more than five +million peasant proprietors in France, while the United Kingdom is owned +by about 200,000 persons. In England one person in 130 probably owns +land, as distinguished from mere house property, and outside of London +one in 30 owns a house. In Scotland one in 400 is a landowner, and one +in 28 has a house in his name. In Ireland one in 315 owns land, but only +one in 120 has title to a house. + + * * * * * + +TRIGONOMETRICAL SURVEY OF NEW YORK. + +The board of commissioners in whose charge is placed the projected +trigonometrical survey of New York State report that preparations have +been made for beginning the work in ten counties westward from the line +of the upper Hudson river to Seneca lake. The starting points are the +four United States Coast Survey stations at Mt. Rafinesque, near Troy, +Helderberg, Princetown, and Greenwich. The position of these points has +been very accurately ascertained by means of two independent lines of +triangles carried from New England and Fire Island through Connecticut +and Massachusetts. The State Survey, therefore, enjoys the advantage of +starting from points that belong to the great chain of stations +established by the general Government, and these are so placed that the +first line of triangles which crosses the State will connect directly +with another chain of similar stations on the great lakes. The plan +followed includes the selection of prominent elevations of land for +principal stations. An earthen vessel of peculiar shape and markings +will be sunk below the first line, and its centre clearly marked. Above +this will be placed a squared stone projecting from the ground. The +latter will be the visible base of operations in common use, but the +former will be the permanent and authoritative reference in case of any +difficulty or doubt. It is intended to establish these points about +twelve miles apart, and their positions will be determined by careful +astronomical observations, checked by accurate measurements of their +distance from neighboring stations. Wherever the nature of the ground +compels the placing of these stations at distances inconveniently great, +subordinate points will be established in the intermediate ground. In +the present working ground the highlands which bound the Mohawk valley +on the north and south afford admirable positions for these stations. + +The director of the survey reports that the work is well received by +farmers, and he gives some excellent reasons why it should be. Boundary +marks have so generally disappeared that in tracing the boundaries of +eleven counties where sixty corners had been made, only two were found. +It is a part of Mr. Gardner's plan to preserve these old lines, marking +them in a permanent manner. The cost of bad work appears to have been +very large to the people. The citizens of the State spend $40,000 for +maps that are really worthless. Designing persons obtain aid for +improper enterprises by exhibiting false maps, and there is no means of +disproving their assertions. Counties and towns have contributed large +sums to such projects, and the total is estimated at forty million +dollars. Half of this was paid for the Oswego Midland railroad, which +Mr. Gardner says would never have been built had its supporters known +the character of the country it would cross and the ruinous original +cost and running expenses involved in its heavy cuttings and high +grades. The cost of surveying the whole State is estimated at $200,000 +for the trigonometrical work, which is all that is now projected. To +this must eventually be added topography and mapping, though these are +not necessary for fixing boundaries. Still, the whole sum required, +distributed as it would be over ten years' time, would be a light burden +and a remunerative expenditure. + + * * * * * + +THE USE OF AIR IN ORE DRESSING. + +A correspondent, Mr. M. F. M. Cazin, writes us that the article +on "Hot Water in Dressing Ores" in the March number "is another good +illustration of how great men will stumble over little things. Permit me +to express a principle with regard to the same matter, by which without +Rittinger's profound calculations, without Ransom's laboratory +experiments, the entire question about the best medium (liquid or fluid) +for separating two equal sized particles of solids according to their +density (specific gravity) can be settled for every special case." His +"principle" is that the ideal fluid for this purpose is one that is more +dense than the lighter of the two particles and less dense than the +heavier. But this is no new revelation. The difficulty is that there is +but one fluid of the kind, and only one metal (disregarding the very +rare ones) to which it can be applied. The fluid is mercury and the +metal gold. The latter has a specific gravity of say 19, and therefore +sinks when it is carried upon a bath of fluid quicksilver, with a +specific gravity of say 13.6. The sand with which the metal is mixed has +a specific gravity of only 2.6 to 5, and floats over the mercury bath +and away into the waste, thus effecting the desired separation. This +operation, and the fact that there is such a thing as a theoretically +ideal fluid, was clearly pointed out by Rittinger, for whom Mr. Cazin +appears to have so little respect. The latter gentleman does bring +forward one new point, and it is an important one. He asserts that air +can be made to act as an "ideal" fluid, in the sense referred to here, +by imparting motion to it. This conclusion depends on the consideration +that "motion of the fluid in an opposite direction to the fall of the +solid particles is equivalent (by friction, adhesion, resistance) to an +increase of density of the fluid. Therefore air may by imparted motion +have the same separating effect, in a specified case, as water would +have without motion." + +If Mr. Cazin would state his case differently, he would see more +clearly the place that air has as a separating medium. It cannot be +made an _ideal_ fluid, but it is comparable with water, which also is +never an ideal fluid, for there is no ore of common occurrence that is +lighter than water. The question in ore dressing really is whether air +can be made to work as well as water. Theoretically we can see no +objection, but in practice a great many obstacles arise. The cost is +greater both for machinery and operating expenses; the ore has to be +dried either before or after crushing, and the efficiency of the +apparatus is still doubtful. It may be possible to save more fine dust +than by the wet methods, but this point remains unproved. + +This subject is a very important one, and involves very great interests. +It is a singular fact that the mechanical treatment of ores, which is a +fundamental part of mining science and practice, is not taught in any of +the American mining schools. English scientific men occasionally point +to America as the land of sound and general scientific teaching, but we +fear that a nearer acquaintance with our schools would rob us of that +reputation. It is difficult to imagine a less complete system of +instruction than that in some of our technical schools, or a more +erratic sense of industrial needs than among some of our school +managers. + + * * * * * + +POLAR COLONIZATION. + +Congress did not appropriate the $50,000 asked for by Capt. Howgate, but +from the peculiar state of politics in the last Congress this is not +thought to indicate an unfavorable reception of his scheme. The bill was +not reported from the naval committee. It will probably be brought up +next December. That will of course be too late to accomplish anything +this year, so that the summer is lost to the main expedition, but Capt. +Howgate now proposes to send out an agent to settle upon a site for the +proposed camp, engage Esquimaux, and make other preparations. In fact, +it is proposed to spend as much as $17,000 in preliminary work and +stores, and it is thought that this can be done without increasing the +ultimate cost of the expedition more than four thousand dollars. We +regret to see that the newspapers are apt to talk about "a dash to the +pole" when they speak of this scheme. It is to be hoped that no such +dash will be attempted. Capt. Howgate should start out with the fixed +determination of making no attempt whatever to reach the pole the first +year or two. The dashing style has been the only one used in the +centuries through which the history of Arctic exploration runs. What is +now of most importance is the inauguration of tentative methods. They +are pretty certain to win in the end, and the other method of management +is about as certain to fail. + +The Government commission appointed to investigate the conduct of the +English expedition has reported that its failure was principally due to +the omission of lime-juice from the provision of the sledge parties. The +reason for leaving it out was that fuel would have to be carried to thaw +it, and with a load of 237 pounds to the man, the sledge parties were +already weighted down. This shows how the most labored and extensive +preparations for a "dash" may be defeated by failure in even one +apparently small item. + +Now that the subject of Arctic colonization is so energetically +discussed in this country, it may be worth while to republish the +recommendations of a German government commission appointed to consider +the scheme, when it was first proposed by Weyprecht. These were as +follows: + +"1. The exploration of the Arctic regions is of great importance for all +branches of science. The commission recommends for such exploration the +establishment of fixed observing stations. From the principal station, +and supported by it, are to be made exploring expeditions by sea and by +land. + +"2. The commission is of opinion that the region which should be +explored by organized German Arctic explorers is the great inlet to the +higher Arctic regions situated between the eastern shore of Greenland +and the western shore of Spitzbergen. + +"Considering the results of the second German Arctic expedition, a +principal station should be established on the eastern shore of +Greenland, and at least _two_ secondary stations, fitted out for +_permanent_ investigation of different scientific questions, at Jan +Mayen and on the western shore of Spitzbergen. For certain scientific +researches the principal station should establish temporary stations. + +"3. It appears very desirable, and so far as scientific preparations are +concerned, possible, to commence these Arctic explorations in the year +1877. + +"4. The commission is convinced that an exploration of the Arctic +regions, based on such principles, will furnish valuable results, even +if limited to the region between Greenland and Spitzbergen; but it is +also of opinion that an exhaustive solution of the problems to be solved +can only be expected when the exploration is extended over the whole +Arctic zone, and when other countries take their share in the +undertaking. + +"The commission recommends, therefore, that the principles adopted for +the German undertaking should be communicated to the governments of the +States which take interest in Arctic inquiry, in order to establish, if +possible, a complete circle of observing stations in the Arctic zones." + +It will be observed that the Germans looked forward to occupying the +adjacent parts of Greenland and Spitzbergen as their share of a line of +outposts to be established by different nations around the Arctic +circle. In any such scheme America would necessarily be called on to +bear a part, and by Captain Howgate's plan her station would be the +line of Smith's Sound and its northern prolongations. This is certainly +her natural field, and is not only the roadway by which most of our +explorers have made their attempts to reach the pole, and therefore +hallowed by their historical struggles, but it is also that portion of +the Arctic region which lies nearest us. It is emphatically a _home_ +field to us. + + * * * * * + +Twenty-seven meteors fell in the United States, and two earthquake +shocks were experienced, in February. + + +When the Great Eastern was recently cleaned 300 tons of barnacles were +scraped from her bottom, an area of more than 52,000 square feet. + + +During the hurricane of January 30 the waves in the British channel were +forty feet high as measured by a mareograph. + + +In December, while the snow was blocking the roads of this country, +Australia enjoyed a temperature of 110 to 116 in the shade. + + +Search has again been made for the planet Vulcan, the existence of which +is indicated by Leverrier's calculations, but without success. + + +Among the results of Nordensjold's last trip to the Jenisei river in +Siberia was a piece of mammoth hide found with some bones of that +animal. + + +Hygeia, "the city of health," is to be built on the Courtland's estate, +about a mile and a half west of Worthing, Sussex, England. Work will be +commenced this spring. + + +The "Big Bonanza" yielded $20,108,958 gold and $25,700,682 silver from +its discovery to September 30, 1876. In this deposit the usual +preponderance of gold over silver is reversed. + + +The Mammoth Cave is but one among many caverns in the subcarboniferous +limestones of Kentucky, the total length of which Prof. Shaler thinks is +at least 100,000 miles. + + +During the continuance of the Centennial, the Pennsylvania railroad +carried nearly five millions of passengers to Philadelphia, and out of +their 760,486 trunks, valises, bags, boxes, and bundles only 26 were +mislaid. + + +The opening of the safes, more than twenty in number, which were exposed +in the great fire at the American Watch Company's New York building +proved that safes, as now made by good firms, are really fire-proof +under ordinary circumstances. Watch movements, bank bills, diamonds and +jewelry, all came out in good order from most of them, though in some +cases the outside plates were red hot. In one safe was a delicate lace +shawl, worth $1,500, which was quite uninjured. + + +Two French astronomers, MM. Andre and Angot, have asked to be sent to +San Francisco to observe the transit of Mercury on May 5, 1878. They +hope to obtain data which will make the next transit of Venus more +fruitful. + + +During the last year the Signal Service extended its telegraph lines +across the Staked Plain to San Diego, California. Two continuous lines +of telegraph now extend across the country, one in the northern and one +in the southern region. + + +Additions of interesting animals are frequently made to the New York +Aquarium. The blind Proteus from Austria, Axolotl from Mexico, +Salamanders from Germany, and some curious fish from China are among the +latest additions to the tanks. + + +The combined Signal and Life-Saving Service at Cape Henry is reported to +have saved $500,000 worth of property in the storms which marked the end +of March. Telegraphic connection is found indispensable to efficient +work in watching the coast. + + +The bullion product of the United States from July 1, 1875, to June 30, +1876, was about $85,250,000, of which $46,750,000 was gold and +$38,500,000 silver. The annual gold product of the world is supposed to +be about $25,000,000 greater than that of silver. + + +The copper-bearing rocks of Lake Superior are reported by the geologist +of Wisconsin to extend almost uninterruptedly across that State. In the +Nemakagon river masses of native copper have been found, and that +country may become a rich copper region. + + +The second congress of Americanistes will meet in Luxembourg September +10 to 13 next. Information and tickets may be had in England of Mr. F. +A. Allen, 15 Fitzwilliam Road, Clapham, S.W. It is to be hoped there +will be less speculation and more research than at the last congress. + + +Persons desirous of procuring brook and salmon trout for restocking the +waters of New York State can do so by addressing Seth Green at +Rochester, who will send them on the payment of the travelling expenses +of a messenger and the giving of full directions as to route and whom to +call on. + + +A class in plain cooking was lately formed at the New York Cooking +School. The course consisted of twelve lessons. The tuition fees for +girls who bear their own expenses are fifty cents for a single lesson, +or $5 a course; for charitable societies, in behalf of their protegees, +$5 a course; for ladies sending their cooks for instruction, $10 a +course. + + +A shower of stones is reported to have fallen February 16 in Social +Circle, Walton county, Georgia, varying in size from a hen's egg to that +of a man's two fists, irregular in shape, dark grayish color, +interspersed with a bright, shiny substance resembling mica. The shower +was brief, extended over about four acres of ground, and followed an +explosive sound. + + +Panic fears are likely to prove the destruction of the Spitz dog. The +belief that this species is peculiarly liable to hydrophobia, and +inclined to bite on small provocation, has led a great many owners to +deliver up their Spitz dogs to the police for destruction. In one city, +East Brooklyn, there was said to be 4,000 of them, but the number is now +much reduced. Is it not possible that a similar panic among brutes may +account for the extinction of some wild species of animals? + + +According to one of the German papers, the Zooelogical Garden at Cologne +has been the scene of a tremendous fight between two Polar bears. They +were male and female, and the latter, being overcome, was finally +dragged by the male to the reservoir of water in the den, and held down +until she was dead. Then her lifeless body was dragged around the place +for some time by her furious conqueror. + + + + +CURRENT LITERATURE. + + +Miss Martineau's "Autobiography,"[2] which comprises two-thirds of +this voluminous publication, is an interesting specimen of an +interesting sort of book. It appeals much more to the general reader +than most of the multitudinous volumes which she gave to the world +during her lifetime, and we shall not be surprised if it takes its +place among the limited number of excellent personal memoirs in the +language. (For this purpose, however, we must add, it would need to be +disembarrassed of the biographical appendage affixed to it by the +editor, which, though carefully and agreeably prepared, we cannot but +regard as rather a dead weight upon the book. It repeats much of what +the author has related, and envelopes her narrative in a diffuse, +eulogistic commentary which strikes the reader sometimes as superfluous +and sometimes as directly at variance with the impression made upon him +by Miss Martineau's text.) Miss Martineau was indeed, intellectually, +one of the most remarkable women who have exhibited themselves to the +world. She was not delicate, she was not graceful, or imaginative, or +aesthetic, or some of the other pretty things that literary ladies are +expected to be; but she was extraordinarily vigorous; she had a great +understanding--a great reason. She gives, intellectually, a great +impression of force. She was a really heroic worker, a genuine +philosopher, and she made her mark upon her time. Her reader's last +feeling about her is that she was thoroughly respectable. He will have +had incidental feelings of a less genial kind; he will have been +irritated at the coarseness of some of her judgments and the +complacency of some of her claims; at her evident want of tact and +repose; at a disposition to which he will even permit himself, perhaps, +to apply the epithet of meddlesome. But he will have a strong sense of +Miss Martineau's care for great things--her sustained desire, prompting +her always to production of some kind, to help along and enlighten the +human race. She was a combatant, and the whole force of her nature +prompted her to discussion. Such natures cannot afford to be +delicate--to be easily bruised and scratched; neither can they afford +to have that speculative cast of fancy which wastes valuable time in +scruples that are possibly superfluous and questions that are possibly +vain. In spite of any such apologetic view of her disposition as may be +put forth, however, it is probable that Miss Martineau's autobiography +will give offence enough. She speaks out her mind with complete +frankness upon most of the persons that she has known, subject to the +single condition of her book being published after her death. Of its +being postponed until the death of the objects of her criticism we hear +nothing, though this would have been more to the point. Miss Martineau +deals out disapproval with so liberal a hand, that among those persons +concerned who are still living much resentment and disgust must +inevitably ensue. Downright and vigorous as she is in spirit, there is +no mistaking the degree of her censure, and as (whatever else she may +be) she is not a flippant writer, it has every appearance of being +deliberate and premeditated. We do not pretend to decide upon the +propriety of her hard knocks, or to point out the particular cases in +which they might have been a little softer; but we cannot help saying +that there is something in Miss Martineau's general attitude toward +individuals which inspires one with a certain mistrust. She was +evidently always judging and always uttering judgments. Her business in +life was to have opinions and to promulgate them, and as objects of +opinion she seems to have regarded persons very much as she regarded +abstract ideas--attributing to them an equal unconsciousness of +denunciation. This eagerness to qualify her fellow members of society +would have been perhaps a great virtue if Miss Martineau's powers of +observation had been of extraordinary fineness; but in spite of an +occasional very happy hit, we hardly think this to have been the case. +Sometimes, evidently, she went straight to the point, and often, +independently of the justice of her appreciation, this is expressed +with an extremely vigorous neatness. But frequently her descriptions of +people strike us as both harsh and superficial, and more especially as +_heated_, even after the lapse of years. She goes out of her way to +pronounce very unflattering verdicts upon men and women who have +apparently had little more connection with her life than that they have +been her contemporaries. This is apart from the rightful spirit of an +autobiography, which, it seems to us, should deal only with people who +have been real factors in the writer's life. The latter pages of Miss +Martineau's first volume contain a series of portraits, some brief, +some more extended, of which it must be said that their very incisive +lines make them extremely entertaining. Miss Martineau's style is +always excellent for strength and fulness of meaning, and at times she +has a real genius for terseness. Lord Campbell "was wonderfully like +the present Lord; was facetious, in and out of place; politic; +flattering to an insulting degree, and prone to moralizing in so trite +a way as to be almost as insulting." That has almost the condensation +of Saint-Simon. There is a very vivid, satirical portrait in this same +chapter of a certain Lady Stepney, who wrote silly novels of the +"fashionable" type which Thackeray burlesqued, and boasted that she +received L700 a piece for them; and there are sketches of Campbell, +Bulwer, Landseer, and various other persons, which if they are wanting +in graciousness, are not wanting in spirit. Miss Martineau gives _in +extenso_ her opinion of Macaulay, and a very low opinion it seems to +be. It is, however, very much the verdict of time--save in regard to +the "dreary indolence" of which the author accuses him, and which will +excite surprise in the readers of Mr. Trevylyan's "Life." Of Lockhart +and Croker and their insolent treatment of herself and her fame in the +early part of her career, she gives a lamentable, and apparently a just +account; but stories about the underhandedness and truculence of these +discreditable founders of the modern art of "reviewing" are by this +time old stories. There is also a story about poor Mr. N. P. Willis, +which, though it consorts equally with the impression which this +_litterateur_ contrived to diffuse with regard to himself, it was less +decent to relate. When Miss Martineau left England for America, Mr. +Willis gave her a bundle of letters of introduction to various people +here; and on arriving in this country and proceeding to present Mr. +Willis's passports, she found that the gentleman was unknown to most of +the persons to whom they were addressed. A fastidious delicacy might +have suggested to Miss Martineau that her lips were sealed by the fact +that, of slight value as these documents were, she had at least +accepted and made use of them. We suppose there was no case in which, +even when repudiated, they did not practically serve as an +introduction. But Miss Martineau was not fastidiously delicate. + + [2] "_Harriet Martineau's Autobiography._" With Memorials by + MARIA WESTON CHAPMAN. In 3 vols. Boston: Jas. R. Osgood & Co. + +This copious retrospect appears to have been written about the year +1855, when the author had ceased to labor; having earned a highly +honorable repose, and being moreover incapacitated by serious ill +health. She appears then, at fifty-three years of age, to have thought +her death very near; but she lived to be a much older woman--for upward +of twenty years. Her motive in writing her memoirs is affirmed to be a +desire to take her good name into her own hands, and anticipate the +possible publication of her letters, an event which, very properly, she +sternly deprecates. As to these letters, however, Mrs. Chapman publishes +several, and makes liberal use of others. The reader wonders what her +correspondence would have been, since what she destined to publicity is +occasionally so invidious. Another motive with Miss Martineau appears to +have been a desire to set forth, in particular, the history of her +religious opinions--the history being sufficiently remarkable. Born +among the primitive Unitarians (the city of Norwich, her paternal home, +was, we believe, a sort of focus of this amiable form of Dissent), she +passed, with her advance in life, from a precocious and morbid youthful +piety to the furthest limits of skepticism. The story is an interesting +one, and it forms both the first and the last note that she strikes; but +we doubt whether (even among persons as little "theological" as herself) +her reflections on this subject will serve to exemplify her judgment at +its best. Her skepticism is too dogmatic and her whole attitude toward +the "superstition" she has cast off too much marked by a small eagerness +for formulas in the opposite direction, and a narrow complacency in the +act of ventilating her negations. She cannot keep her hands off +affirmations about a future state, and she lacks that imaginative +feeling (so indispensable in all this matter) which suggests that the +completest form of the liberty which she claims as against her +theological education is tacit suspension of judgment. In general Miss +Martineau is certainly not superficial, but here, in feeling, she is. +This however is the penalty of having been narrowly theological in one's +earlier years; it always leaves a bad trace somewhere, especially in +reaction. The chapters in which Miss Martineau describes these early +years are admirable; they place before us most vividly the hard +conditions of her childish life, and they describe with singular +psychological minuteness the unfolding of her character and the growth +of her impressions. They have a remarkable candor, and it certainly +cannot be said that the author's portrait of her youthful self is a +flattered one. We doubt whether, except Rousseau, any autobiographer +ever had the courage to accuse himself of so ungraceful a fault as +infant miserliness. "I certainly was very close," says Miss Martineau, +"all my childhood and youth." Her account of the circumstances which led +to and accompanied her first steps in literature, of the first money she +earned (she was in sore need of it), and of the growth of her form and +development of her powers, and her confidence in them--all this is +extremely real, touching, and interesting. She succeeded almost from the +first, but her success was the result of an amount of unaided exertion +which excites our wonder. What fairly launched her was the publication +of her "Tales in Illustration of Political Economy," and there was +something really heroic in the way that as a poor young woman with +"views" of her own and without helpful companionship, she explored and +mastered this tough science. Her views prevailed, and floated her into +distinction. We have no space to allude to the details of the rest of +her career, one of the principal events of which was her visit to +America in 1834. It lasted more than two years, and was commemorated by +Miss Martineau, on her return, in no less than six volumes. Mrs. Chapman +deals with it largely in her supplementary memoir, treating chiefly, +however, of the visitor's relations with the Abolition party. Miss +Martineau evidently exaggerates both the odium which she incurred and +the danger to which she exposed herself by these relations. They were +natural ones for an ardently liberal Englishwoman to form, for the +Abolitionists, to foreign eyes, must at that time have represented the +only eminent feeling, the only sense of an ideal, visible amid the +commonplace prosperity of American life. In her last pages Miss +Martineau indulges some gloomy forebodings as to the future of the +United States, which offers, she says, the only instance on record "of a +nation being inferior to its institutions." This was written in 1855; we +abstain from hazarding a conjecture as to whether she would think better +or worse of us now. + + * * * * * + +We have two good novels, one very foreign and the other very domestic. +The first is by Auerbach,[3] whose high purpose and truly ideal +treatment of the narrative all who have read "On the Heights" will +remember with pleasure. He preserves the same style essentially in this +story, although it is of an entirely different character. A painter +visiting a country village in company with a young scholar and +philosopher who is an assistant librarian and is called the +collaborator, paints as a Madonna the beautiful daughter of the keeper +of the village inn. He falls in love with her, attracted no less by her +unconcealed love for him than by her beauty. He takes her to town with +him, a town where there is a little German court, very refined +_esthetik_, and very high-dried old manners. The poor girl drives him +almost mad with her awkwardness, her ignorance of polished life, and +her independence. It does not help the matter that in the latter +respect she wins the favor of others, even of the Prince himself. After +a while he avoids her, takes to wine-drinking, and comes home drunk. +She sees her position, and from what he is suffering, and she goes back +to her parents, leaving behind her an unreproachful, fond, and most +touching letter of farewell. Poor girl! sad as it was for her, what +else could she do? It was the best course under the circumstances; for +although her heart broke over it, she at least kept her love for him, +and that by remaining she might have lost. After a while she dies, and +he after a long time betrothes himself to another woman, who loves him, +and to whose love he responds with such a feeling as beauty and +sweetness and devotion might raise in the breast of a man whose heart +is really in the grave of his dead wife. He dies before a second +marriage from injuries received in a dispute with his brother-in-law. +It will be seen that this simple story of humble life presented +temptations to treatment in the most literal and realistic way. But in +Auerbach's hands it is ideal. Its likeness in certain respects to the +story of "A Princess of Thule" will strike all the readers of William +Black's most charming novel. But the treatment is as unlike as the +incidents and the localities. Auerbach's little novel is essentially +German in thought, in feeling, in purpose, in treatment. We have never +read a more thoroughly German book. This character is given to it, and +its ideality is very much enhanced by the character of the +collaborator, who is constantly looking upon every incident of life +from a lofty philosophic point of view; serious generally, sometimes +humorous, often serio-comic. "Wilhelm Meister" itself is not a more +thoroughly characteristic production of the German mind. But it is +nevertheless a sweet, simple, touching story, the sentiment diffused +through which has a peculiar charm. It forms one of Mr. Henry Holt's +well selected "Leisure Hour Series." The translation is marked by +idiomatic vigor and a very skilful adaptation of the rustic phraseology +of one language to that of the other. + + [3] "_Lorley and Reinhard._" By BERTHOLD AUERBACH. Translated by + Charles T. Brooks. 16mo, pp. 377. New York: Henry Holt. + +--As unlike to this as can be is a novel by an author whose name is +entirely new to us, but whose work bears the traces of some literary +experience.[4] Its double title is very well chosen. In it a number of +people, young and middle-aged, are gathered together for the summer in +the beautiful Connecticut country house of one of them--a wealthy young +bachelor. There they all fall in love. We can hardly say that everybody +falls in love with everybody else; but it is pretty nearly that. +Everybody is in love with some one else; and the consequence is, after a +good deal of cross-purposing and some suffering, half a dozen marriages. +The change that has taken place in the purpose of the novel and in the +manner of treatment of character by the novel writer could not be more +clearly exampled than by "Love in Idleness." It is absolutely without +plot, has hardly enough coherence to be called a story, is entirely +without incident. And yet it is very interesting from the first page to +the last, although its interest is not of the highest kind even in the +novel range. To give our readers any notion of it is quite impossible +without telling them almost all that happens, all that is said, thought, +and felt by the various personages. The book is strongly American; but +its Americans are of the most cultivated classes; and it is guiltless of +hard-fisted farmers, Southern slave-drivers, and California +gold-diggers. It is entirely free from that irritating intellectual +eruption sometimes called American humor. In fact, its personages are +taken both from the Old England and the New; and side by side, one set +can hardly be distinguished from the other as in real life. He who must +perforce be called the hero is a Senator, forty-eight years old, who is +engaged to marry a rather cool, reserved, and stately woman of thirty, +but is loved almost at first sight by Felise Clairmont, a girl of +nineteen, half French, half American, of enchanting beauty, and still +more captivating ways. She is loved by almost every other man in the +book; but her avowed lover is the Senator's younger brother, who is the +host of the assembled company, exclusive of Felise, who lives near by +with her guardian, a certain judge. The Senator loves the young girl as +fondly as she loves him, and still more deeply, and what the result is +we shall leave our readers to find out from the book itself, which will +richly repay the novel reader. It is exceedingly well written, and its +social machinery is managed with skill; but it is a little too much +elaborated in the conversations, which are rather excessively +epigrammatic at times. The author of such a novel, if not an old hand, +should give us something better and stronger ere long. + + [4] "_Love in Idleness._ A Summer Story." By ELLEN W. OLNEY. 8vo + (paper), pp. 131. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co. + +--"The Man Who Was Not a Colonel"[5] is an amusing story of that kind +that may be denominated "light" even in fiction. The author rattles on +through a variety of incidents, and adventures, and true-love tangles, +without trying the reader's intellect with any particularly severe +infliction of character study. It is a model of that literature which +has received the distinctive title of _railway_, because in travelling +we do not care to be bothered with thinking on our own part or others. + + [5] "_The Man Who Was Not a Colonel._" By a High Private. Loring, + publisher. $0.50. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Wallace has done well in selecting the comprehensive title +"Russia"[6] for his book. It is no mere record of a journey, or +description of a country or people as a traveller sees them. The author +spent six years in the land of the Tsars, studied the language, and +lived with the people, and now he endeavors to show the origin and +composition of the nation, its past history and present struggles, +besides making minute studies of the serf system, the communes, +emancipation in its methods and results, the peculiar conjunction of +autocracy and democracy in the principles and practice of government, +the agriculture, the religion, politics, population, and other +important factors of a great empire. The book is sufficiently praised +when we say that all these subjects are well treated. The author is +careful to point out, as an analyst should, where his studies are +incomplete, and he modestly tells us that his work is not presented as +an unassailable summation of truth, but as the conclusion to which an +unprejudiced observer came after long and careful study. We could not +ask for better evidence of his sincerity than in the defence which he, +an Englishman, makes of the Tsar's policy of foreign annexation! He +tells us that this is not the result of autocratic choice, but is the +only available one of three modes of restraint against marauding +tribes. These three are a great wall, a military cordon, and +annexation. The first is impossible in a country that for hundreds of +miles has no durable building material, the second has been tried and +found impracticable. As to the last, there is a choice between an armed +frontier and occupation of the marauder's country, and the latter +course is followed because it is cheaper in a pecuniary sense. To the +question so often asked in England, How far is Russian "aggrandization" +to go? Mr. Wallace answers that the Russian arms cannot stop until they +reach the frontier of some stable power. In short, to those +Russophobists in England who look with such alarm upon the approach of +the Russians toward India, he calmly replies that this approach is both +inevitable and desirable! No wonder he tells his countrymen that it is +their duty to know Russia better. It is plainly impossible to even +review in the most concise manner the numerous important discussions in +this remarkable book, without producing another book in doing so. Mr. +Wallace's work is one of the most valuable studies in social and +governmental economy ever written, and several causes, aside from his +personal fidelity and fitness, combine to make it so. In general, +Russian society exhibits, so far as the peasantry are concerned, a +simplicity of life and thought that carries the imagination +irresistibly back to prehistoric times. No civilized race, no +_culturvolk_, presents such aboriginal relations in its family and +commonwealth. The nobles, on the other hand, and all the cultured +class, are fermenting with great views and plans of social reform. The +ideas that made such havoc in the early days of the French revolution +have again swept within human vision, but this time they were caught up +by a practical-minded Emperor and crystallized into the greatest +premeditated political reform of this century! The wonderful feat of +quietly emancipating forty million bonded servitors, at one stroke, the +institution on a tremendous scale of what the dreamers have declared to +be the classic relation of social man--communism, the division of land, +taking about one-half from the rich and giving it to the poor--such +marvels as these throw a halo of Arabian magic about the history of +this simple people since 1861. When to these attractions is added the +fact that this land of social classicity and political ideals is +entirely accessible to study, as no other nation of like simple culture +is, we think that reasons enough have been given for saying that our +author has chosen the ripest field in the world for his harvest labors. +He has shown himself a most conscientious and able worker in it, and +our own country will be fortunate if the social revolution that has +taken place in its Southern States ever finds so unprejudiced and +painstaking a historian as he. To Americans Mr. Wallace's book should +be more interesting and valuable than to any other readers, for many of +these questions which he discusses so thoroughly have been settled in +precisely the opposite way in this country! For instance, emancipation +here was violent, the severance of master-and-slave relations complete, +the future _status_ of the two interested parties was not previously +fixed, and no compensation was given to either. Here land is held +solely by individual tenure; no person has enforced local bonds, but is +free to move everywhere--that is, with the sole exception of Indians. +We reject the colonization plan of dealing with marauding enemies, and +adopt the armed frontier system. In short, we are diametrically +opposite in our conclusions, and yet we have a national problem that is +in two important respects essentially the same as Russia's. The +settlement of a continent and the amalgamation of races is the double +task imposed on us as well as them. One mode of accomplishing it we can +see going on about us; its precise opposite is well exhibited in Mr. +Wallace's "Russia." + + [6] "_Russia._" By D. MACKENZIE WALLACE. New York: Henry Holt & + Co. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Anderson cannot be considered a model traveller. His "Six Weeks in +Norway"[7] gives hardly anything but the starting out on each morning, +the names of places passed, and the arrival at night. But the traveller +in that country needs something of just this kind, and this book will +therefore do very well for a guide. Indeed, it is well filled with facts +suitable to such a service. Norway is a hard country to travel in. The +frequent rains and steady fish diet are depressing to dry foreigners +with a previous sufficiency of phosphorus, and like our own country +there is little besides the scenery to engage attention. Nor is the +interior the best part of the country. It looks best in a profile view +seen from the water. Whoever would see Norway must visit the fiords in a +yacht, and not trouble the land much. + + [7] "_Six Weeks in Norway._" By E. L. ANDERSON. Robert Clarke & + Co. + + * * * * * + +The discussion of the mutual attitude of religion and science, +particularly in regard to what is known as the theory of development, +goes ceaselessly on. Books upon the subject follow each other so rapidly +that it would seem that they must long since have ceased to find any +considerable number of readers, much more of buyers. We confess that we +are somewhat weary of the controversy; particularly as it is kept up +chiefly on the side of those who call themselves religionists, who +mostly seem to be unable to bring forward any new arguments, and no less +to fail to appreciate the attitude and the purpose of those whom they +have made their antagonists. Science, as we believe, did not seek this +controversy, but was forced into it by the attacks of the champions of +religion, and is now necessarily kept somewhat on the defence. It would +seem that nearly all that can be said, and all that need be said, has +already been brought forward. But each new disputant that enters upon +the defence of theological dogma seems to be convinced that he is the +man of men who is to protect religion against what he believes to be the +danger in which it is placed by the observation of nature and the +speculation upon discovered facts which now occupies so many physicists, +including some of first-rate ability. + +We may as well say, if we have not already said in our previous remarks +upon the books upon this question which have been reviewed in the pages +of "The Galaxy," that we do not regard the theory of evolution as +established. Facts of great interest bearing upon it have been +discovered, and deductions from those facts have been made and set +forth with great ingenuity and plausibility, so that it demands serious +attention _from the scientific point of view_. But this seems to us all +that has been done. Our feelings and our convictions, not to say our +creed, are all against it. It is a degrading and a hopeless view of the +universe, and particularly of man. Him it places in the attitude of a +mere physical item in the cosmos--one link, although the last and a +golden one, in a chain of events the beginning and the future of which +are alike unknown. All our instincts revolt against it. We don't +believe it; and we candidly confess that we are in the position, +abhorrent and ridiculous to the scientific mind, of not wishing to +believe it. We believe, and we desire to believe, that man was made, +however and when, as man; and that however inferior he may have been in +his first condition to what he is now, he was never anything less than +human. + +Feeling thus and believing thus, we nevertheless cannot see that those +who are resisting science on the ground that its assumed discoveries are +at war with the assumed teachings of revealed religion are doing wisely, +or that they, even the best of them, have written one word which in the +least impairs the value or the significance of the facts and the +deductions which science has set forth. Science is only to be met by +science. Theology cannot touch it. A beast and a fish cannot fight: one +must stay on land and the other must stay in the water. Religionists, on +the one hand, say that if science has discovered, or professes to have +discovered, anything at variance with the Mosaic cosmogony, it is not to +be believed. Scientific observers say on the other that if theology +teaches anything at variance with fact and logic, so much the worse for +theology. This attitude of the two will be maintained. It is natural, +and in a certain sense right, that it should be maintained. Each will +hold its position. Neither can accept the conclusions of the other or +its methods without both ceasing to be what they are. Notwithstanding +this difficulty, which is radical, the controversy will go on, until it +is decided, not by argument, but by time, experience, and the moral and +intellectual development of mankind. + +A laborious contribution to the controversy has been made, by Clark +Braden,[8] who announces himself as president of Abingdon college, +Illinois. It is our own fault, probably, that we have never heard before +of the president or of the college. Neither he, however, nor his +publishers will fail through lack of confidence to make themselves +known, or because they have any misgivings as to the sufficiency of +their work. The author, in a prefatory note addressed "to reviewers and +critics," invites the most searching criticism of his book, but +earnestly requests that it shall be carefully read, and asks to have all +criticisms, particularly those which are adverse, sent to him, that they +may, as he says, "aid him in his search for truth." But plainly he has +little doubt that he has settled "the question of the hour," and what he +wishes is to enjoy the spectacle of science vainly struggling in his +giant grasp. His tone throughout the book is one of overweening +self-confidence. Darwin, Tyndall, Huxley, Spencer, Carpenter, and the +rest are to be snuffed out by the president of Abingdon college, +Illinois; nay, their very methods of research and modes of reasoning are +to be swept into the intellectual dust-bin of that institution by his +besom. And in a long address which accompanies his book, in which the +publishers speak, but the style of which bears a remarkable resemblance +to that of Mr. Braden, it is pointed out with unction that while much +has been written by the advocates of the theory of creation by +intelligence, in refutation of the evolution hypothesis, yet "no +thoughtful reader has ever felt satisfied with any one book"; "no one +has attempted to present, in all its infinity, mystery, and unfathomable +depth, the problem for which evolution is offered as a solution. This is +a fundamental failure." Of course this great need is to be supplied, +this fundamental failure made good, by Mr. Clark Braden's book. And then +the publishers break forth in words which seem to be the genuine +utterances of their own feeling: "The book is a compactly printed volume +of four hundred and eighty pages, printed on the best quality of paper, +and printed and bound in the best style of art. It contains as much +matter as most three-dollar books, and more than many of them.... Every +preacher and believer of the Bible should have a copy. All who profess +to believe these theories of evolution should, above all others, have a +copy. We want to place a copy in the hands of all parties." Doubtless. +This is delicious. Every one who believes the Bible should "have a +copy," and every one who don't believe it should "have a copy." In a +word, to "have a copy" of this book is the chief end of man, the first +requisite to reasonable existence for every human being. And then the +publishers wind up with a request for copies of the reviews of the book, +as "we desire to use them in the sale of the book, and in selecting +papers in which we will advertise." Innocent creatures! that last touch +shows how guileless they are; how they wouldn't think of such a thing as +offering a bribe to editors and publishers of newspapers; and how purely +disinterested they are in their desire to place "a copy" in the hands of +"all parties." + + [8] "_The Question of the Hour, and its Various Solutions, + Atheism, Darwinism, and Theism._" By CLARK BRADEN. 8vo, pp. 480. + Cincinnati: Chase & Hall. + +We fear that our pages will not be selected for the advertising of this +book; which, by the way, is commonly printed and meanly bound. Candidly +we do not think that it is the end of all things. Possibly there may be +some controversy hereafter; some men may go on investigating nature and +believing in facts alone. The book reminds us of a social sketch in +"Punch," which shows two dilapidated field preachers, evidently among +the most ignorant and feeble-minded of their class, meeting on the edge +of a heath from which people are going away. One says to the other, +"Been on the 'eath? What did you preach about?" "Oh," is the reply, "I +give it to Darwin an' 'Uxley to rights." Not that Mr. Braden is in any +sense ignorant, or in any way to be compared to "Punch's" field +preacher except in his evident belief that he has "give it to Darwin +an' 'Uxley to rights," and in the perfect indifference with which +Darwin and Huxley will regard his performance. Briefly, nothing worthy +of particular remark in Mr. Braden's book. Those who wish to find the +whole question between science and revealed religion set forth as it +appears to Mr. Braden, and the facts and arguments of science met by +the usual stock-in-trade weapons of the theologian and the +metaphysician, may find all this in Mr. Braden's book, in which the +author certainly does go pretty well over the whole ground. What is +really his theme is found in this passage of one of his appendices (p. +382): "The issue between theist and atheist is: What is the necessary, +absolute, uncaused, unconditioned being or substance? What is it that +is the self-existent, independent, self-sustaining and eternal? What is +the ground, source, origin, or cause of all existences and phenomena? +This is the problem of problems, that determines all systems of +science, philosophy, and thought." Well, to these questions science +answers, We don't know; we don't pretend to know, and we probably never +shall know. We have discovered by patient observation certain facts, +and, according to the laws of right reason, we think that between these +facts there are such and such relations. In this we may be mistaken. If +we are, very well; we shall be glad to correct our error. In either +case we shall go on observing, considering, and reasoning, but +confining ourselves strictly to fact. If any dogma or transcendental +notion that you know of is at variance with fact or with reason, we may +be sorry or we may not; but in either case we can't help it. Dogmas and +notions are nothing to us. And as to that self-existent, unconditioned, +eternal intelligence that you talk about, pray tell us what you know +about it. We shall be glad to learn. Don't tell us what you think, +believe, or have an inward conviction of, but what you know. What _do_ +you _know_ about it? Give us at least a solid basis of absolute +knowledge to stand upon and to start from, and we are ready to listen +to you. If you cannot do this, good morning; look you after your +dogmas, and we will keep to our facts. The truth is that not Paul and +Barnabas were more driven to part company than the disputant who sets +up as of any authority a theological dogma, no matter what, or a +metaphysical abstraction, no matter what, and the man who studies +nature scientifically. One believes because he believes, and really at +bottom from no other reason; the other is in a chronic state of +inquiry; he believes nothing in regard to any subject of inquiry but +that which rests upon the ground of absolute knowledge. Mr. Braden's +book, although it is filled with evidences of wide reading and high +education, reads like a book of metaphysical and theological +commonplace. It reminds us of our college days in the lecture room of +the professor of moral philosophy. It is well enough in its way, but it +will attract little attention in the pending controversy. Of its style +we must say that, considering the position of its author, we wish it +were better, and that in the use of language it were an example more +worthy to be followed. Its first sentence is: "One of the _wise_ +utterances of one _whom_ his contemporaries declared spoke as never man +spoke, was that no _wise_ man would begin," etc. On the next page we +have such vulgar error as "_transpiring_ before our eyes," "decay and +dissolution _transpiring_ in every department of nature"; and as to +_shall_ and _will_ the author seems to have no conception of their +proper functions in English speech. This, for the president of Abingdon +college, is not well. + +--Of a somewhat different character, and of much greater importance, is +a little book which presents James Martineau's last utterances on this +subject.[9] It is made up of an address delivered in Manchester New +College, October 6, 1874, and two papers which appeared subsequently in +the "Contemporary Review." Dr. Bellows, in his introduction, expresses +the feeling with which religious minds will read these papers when he +says, "it is refreshing in the midst of the crude replies which alarmed +religionists are hastily hurling at the scientific assailants of faith +in a living God, to hear one thoroughly furnished scholar, profound +metaphysician, and earnest Christian entering his thoughtful and deeply +considered protest against the tendencies or conclusions of modern +materialism." Mr. Martineau may now be justly regarded as the leading +champion of faith. He has this distinction because he is not hampered by +creeds, or articles, or hierarchal responsibility; he is yet an earnest +believer in the essentials of the Christian religion as it is accepted +by all orthodox Protestant denominations, while to these qualifications +he adds a wide range of knowledge and eminent ability as a reasoner. He +is able to meet the men of science on their own ground, and he does so. +They will not acknowledge themselves vanquished; and perhaps from the +very nature of the case, as we have already remarked, they cannot be +vanquished by any argument in which revelation or metaphysics enters as +a premise; but they will not refuse their admiration at the union of +subtlety and strength, of ability and courtesy with which they are +treated. We find many admirable passages in this book marked for +reference, as we went through it; but we must pass them by. During the +last few months we have devoted so many pages of our department of +literature to the discussion of this subject, that readers with whom it +is not a hobby might reasonably object to a further continuance of the +subject here. We content ourselves with recommending this little, +thoughtful, strongly written book to the attention of our readers. They +will find the best array of arguments with which to meet scientific +materialism. + + [9] "_Modern Materialism in its Relations to Religion and + Theology._" By JAMES MARTINEAU, LL.D. With an introduction by + Henry W. Bellows, D.D. 16mo, pp. 211. New York: G. P. Putnam's + Sons. + +--From the same publishers, who seem very catholic in their reception of +authors, we have a volume which, the more because of its ability and its +calmness of tone, Mr. Martineau would regard with sadness, and with +horror, and perhaps with dread.[10] Mr. Frothingham has undertaken the +task of studying the records of the foundation of Christianity from a +purely literary point of view and with all the aids that can be derived +from criticism. The result of his studies may be said to be the +satisfaction of his own mind that Jesus of Nazareth was not and did not +intend to be the founder of a new religion; that he believed himself to +be and set himself up as the Messias, the temporal Messias, expected by +the Jews; and that Christianity was founded by Paul. His conception of +Paul is striking, and however he may fail in establishing his position +in regard to him, it certainly must be admitted that he has made of him +a very interesting and energetic figure, and one which is consistent +with itself and with all that we are told of the great apostle to the +Gentiles. He calls him both Jew and Greek--Jew by parentage, nurture, +training, and genius, Greek by birthplace, residence, and association, +an enthusiast, even to fanaticism, by temperament, and yet freed from +extreme narrowness of mind by intercourse with the people and the +literature of other nations. He was a Jew whose feeling upon the Christ +question was always intense, so much so that he worried and tormented +the people who did not believe as he did. He was a Messianic believer of +the school of the Pharisees, or strict Jews; but all at once, as such +things do happen to such men, another aspect of the Messianic +expectation burst upon him with the splendor of a revelation, and +determined his career. To the conception of the Messias and of Jesus's +conformity to it which suddenly took possession of Paul, Mr. Frothingham +assigns the origin of the Christian religion as it was known in the +second century. With a cool and almost humorous adaptation of a +political phrase of the day, he calls this Paul's "new departure." That +Mr. Frothingham's book is clear in thought, interesting in substance, +agreeable and good in style every one acquainted with his writings will +readily believe. As to the points that he has undertaken to establish, +we are pretty sure that after reading his book few will think with him +who were not ready to do so before they began it. + + [10] "_The Cradle of the Christ_: A Study of Primitive + Christianity." By OCTAVIUS BROOKS FROTHINGHAM 12mo, pp. 233. + New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Watson F. Quinby of Wilmington has written an odd pamphlet on +mongrelism in races. His belief is that population tends to become +homogeneous, but this is not an averaging process. When two races mingle +and intermarry, the mongrel product does not exhibit the balanced +characteristics of both, but the traits of the higher race are absorbed +and hid in those of the lower. Asia, he says, "was formerly powerful, +with white peoples all along its northern and eastern borders, and far +into the interior. But they first enslaved the black race, then mingled +their blood, and have finally become merged in them." The resulting +mongrel people always lacks the intellectual force necessary to maintain +the civilization of the higher. Arts decline and national decay sets in. +In this way is explained the existence of noble ruins among inefficient +and barbarous nations, who practise a much ruder style of architecture. +The Mexicans are the type of this retrogression. Dr. Quinby predicts for +them an increasing decline until Aztec civilization is restored. If the +Doctor's theories could be established, there are enthusiastic +ethnologists who would not hesitate to say that the Mexicans could not +be put to a better use than this. Shut them up and compel them to breed +themselves back into Aztecs! Dr. Quinby's speculations are, to a great +extent, based on studies of language, and of lingual affinities he is a +bold, not to say reckless, expounder. Some of his work reads as if Mark +Twain had turned philologist. For instance: + + "Eighty miles from the mouth of the Indus was a place called + Hingliz. The people of this part celebrate the festival of Bhavani + on the first day of May, when their custom is to erect a pole in + the field and adorn it with pendants and garlands. They also + celebrate another festival on the last day of March, called Huli + (Phulee), when they amuse themselves by sending one another on + foolish errands. _All this has a very Hinglish look(!)._ This is + probably the place where the Hinglish people came from, for though + the Romans called themselves angles, they call themselves English." + + * * * * * + +To explore libraries, to sift out from masses of irrelevant matter what +alone is of value to the naval student, to subject the poetical +descriptions of great battles to the cold eye of professional criticism, +and to give the results in a condensed, well written, and interesting +form, is the task Commodore Parker has assumed, and so far as the volume +under consideration is concerned[11]--the first of a series--the task has +been well and faithfully performed. The amount of labor involved is +immense! The author passes rapidly over the navies of antiquity for the +reason, probably, that we are more familiar with that history than with +the naval history of a period nearer to us both in time and +relationship. What schoolboy has not read of Xerxes sitting in his +golden chair overlooking the Piraeus and the galleys of his immense fleet +strung along the coast of Attica as far as the eye could reach? + + He counted them at break of day, + But when the sun set where were they? + + [11] "_The Fleets of the World._" By Commodore FOXHALL A. PARKER, + United States Navy. New York: D. Van Nostrand. + +Such was Salamis. + +When his narrative reaches the navies of the Italian republics of the +middle ages, however, our author seems all aglow with love of his theme, +and well he may be! Venice, in her day of glory, possessed the finest +navy of the times. Captain Pantero Pantera, writing of it in 1614, +speaks with enthusiastic admiration of its fine arsenals, numerous +stores, and numbers of workmen on permanent pay. These things, he says, +were always most "carefully attended to by the republic of Venice, which +indeed in this respect not only equals, but excels all the naval powers +of the Mediterranean." There is so much of romance and poetry, indeed, +in connection with the naval history of Venice, that it requires a cool +head and steady hand to steer along the courses of sober truth; but that +truth we must not be surprised to find, in that clime of sunshine and +beauty, often out-vieing the wildest efforts of fiction. Very similar is +the history of the sister republic of Genoa. Unfortunately these lovely +sisters were great rivals, and during wars which covered a period of +about one hundred and thirty years wasted each other's strength and +resources without achieving a particle of good to either. As a judgment, +it would almost seem, for such stupendous and long-continued folly, the +seeds of destruction were planted without their own bosoms. Both +attained the pinnacle of earthly glory, but from both issued forth a +wanderer who was destined in time to set his seal upon the fate of his +native city. The Genoese Columbus, followed by the Venetian Cabot, led +the way to the great western continent which, by diverting the course of +trade and commerce from its old channels, caused the loss of wealth and +the final decay of the Italian republic. The spirit of discovery once +aroused, other navigators followed, and Vasco da Gama, by opening the +road to the East Indies by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, so injured +the trade of Venice with the east as to render her downfall inevitable. +But the history of the old sea kings of the north, and the tracing of +their line of descent through old England to the hardy seaman of New +England, is still more interesting to our naval students. + +The Vikings--"sons of the fiords"--were undoubtedly the most arrant +pirates of all history. They were the dread of all Europe. "A furore +Normanorum librera nos Domine," prayed the Church throughout +Christendom. Many of these piratical princes became, through habitual +success, so devoted to their calling that they never extinguished it, +but rather gloried in passing their lives on board their ships. It was +their fond boast that they never reposed under an immovable roof, nor +drank their beer in peace by their fireside, and the ships in which they +had led their wild and adventurous lives formed in death their +sepulchre. Passing over the discovery of North America by Eric the Red +(about 700 B.C.), we may come at once to Harold Harfagra--Harold the +Fairhaired, or Harold Fairfax, a name so well represented to-day in our +own navy. Having made himself master of all Norway, the restless young +spirits of the realm took themselves off on one of their accustomed +expeditions. Led by a youth named Rollo, son of the celebrated sea-rover +Jarl Ragnvald, they ascended the Seine and laid siege to Paris. So +successful were these Normans that Charles the Simple ceded to Rollo +that part of Neustria since called Normandy. By the terms of the treaty, +Charles was to give his daughter Gisele in marriage to Rollo, together +with the province of Normandy, provided he would do homage, and embrace +the Christian religion. To do homage was to kiss the feet of the king. +All that the sturdy Rollo could be prevailed upon to do, however, was to +place his hand in that of the king, and to depute one of his followers +to do homage for him. The gentleman to whom this duty was assigned +raised the king's foot so high that his majesty was thrown upon his +back; whereupon the rude Normans burst out laughing, so little respect +for royalty had these wild rovers of the sea. Two hundred years later +the descendants of these same Normans achieved the Conquest of England. +They became by the heat of much and continued contest and attrition +gradually fused, with the Angles and the Saxons, already inhabitants of +the island, into the modern Englishman and his representative on the +shores of New England. + +This volume not only shows the reader--the general as well as +professional reader--the large scope embraced in a proper study of +history, but it also demonstrates that naval archaeology is not a mere +idle amusement, suited to the elegant leisure of the scholar. It has a +great and practical value, enabling an officer to understand his own +profession the more thoroughly in all its branches. Commodore Parker has +conferred a material benefit on his profession by the valuable +contribution he has made to its literature. He has, moreover, by his +straightforward narration, pleasant style, and copious illustrations +from standard authorities, rendered agreeable and entertaining to the +general reader what otherwise might have proved technical, and of too +special a character. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Perkins's book[12] almost disarms criticism by its very character, +for it is impossible to make a selection of books that is at the same +time limited in size and adapted to diverse and contrary necessities. +Private libraries want the best books, public libraries the books most +called for by the general and often undiscriminating public. "The Best +Reading" contains the titles of about ten thousand books, and as that is +less than half the number printed every year, the work is confessedly +incomplete from whatever point of view we look at it. Still it is useful +to librarians, of whom there are several hundred inexperienced ones in +the country, and to professional essayists, or magazine writers, a class +that must contain thousands of persons. With every allowance for +unavoidable imperfections, we think Mr. Perkins can revise the list with +advantage, taking out some obsolete writers and putting in some new ones +in their place--Herbert Spencer for example. + + [12] "_The Best Reading_: Hints on the Selection of Books, on + the Formation of Libraries, Public and Private, on Courses of + Reading," etc. With a Classified Bibliography. By FREDERICK + BEECHER PERKINS. G. P. Putnam's Sons. + + * * * * * + +Both Mr. Loftie's "Plea for Art in the House" and the Misses Garrett's +advice on "House Decoration"[13] belong to the best kind of works on the +very important subject of cultivating good taste in the furniture of the +home. They are very direct and clear, and their authors are entirely +competent to instruct us all on this subject. Especially are they free +from what we consider to be the worst fault a book of this kind can +show, an obtrusive pretension to superior taste. It is a great mistake +to suppose that we can elevate people by showing them that we consider +ourselves far above them in taste and judgment; but this mistake is not +unfrequently made. That may be the fact, but if there is no evidence of +it but a patronizing treatment of others, there is little hope that much +good will be done. Both these books are free from that error, and Mr. +Loftie especially takes his readers into a survey of a good many +branches of decorative art, exhibiting a familiar acquaintance with them +all, talking alternately of the blunders and successes of collectors, +real and would-be, and all with a natural enthusiasm and freedom from +superciliousness. The Garrett sisters also give a great number of +valuable suggestions and some very taking illustrations of tasteful +decoration. We wish they had given less of their work to criticism of +the conventional London house and more to the description of what is +good. So far as we are acquainted with books of this class, they abound +in two faults, discursiveness and inordinate discussion of bad models. +Artistic house decoration is a technical art, and must be taught like +all other arts--by the exhibition of good precedents. Strictly speaking, +there can be no theories in matters of taste. All the so-called laws or +canons of taste are obtained by observing what has been well done. From +that we may learn what is well doing, and the educated taste produces +good work. There is nothing in art so implicit as the surveyor's +dependence upon the law of magnetic attraction. The notes of a survey +well made to-day can be given to a surveyor a century hence, and he will +bring the lines out to within half an inch, and put his hand upon each +boundary mark that has been made. But it is not so in art. In all the +reconstructions of ancient Grecian buildings not one has been rebuilt. +Neither the Madeleine nor the Valhalla repeat the art of the Parthenon, +however faithfully they repeat its form and measurements. Good taste is +a thing that no French surveyor can secure with any refinement whatever +of the metric system. But still there is a soil in which this plant can +be grown, and that soil is the collective evidences of good taste in the +past. Let us have a book so full of good illustrations that didactic +instruction shall not be needed. + + [13] "_A Plea for Art in the House._" By W. J. LOFTIE, F. S. A. + Porter & Coates, Philadelphia. (Art at Home Series.) + + "_Suggestions for House Decoration in Painting Woodwork and + Furniture._" By RHODA and AGNES GARRETT. Porter & Coates, + Philadelphia. (Art at Home Series.) + + + + +NEBULAE. + + +--Our discussion of life insurance management, in this part of "The +Galaxy," was but preliminary to the thorough article upon the subject +which we present to our readers in this number. It is a subject of great +importance, and one which concerns multitudes of the very best class of +our citizens, to whom we recommend this article for thoughtful perusal. +Its writer has a more thorough acquaintance with life insurance +management than is probably possessed by any other one man in the +country. He _knows_, he does not infer or conjecture, and he has +learned by experience the only way in which to bring life insurance +companies to an effective responsibility. What they are, even when they +are not managed in a manner undeniably fraudulent, has been shown by the +recent investigations at Albany, which brought to light the payment of +salaries and bonuses of monstrous extravagance and the use of proxies by +the thousand on the part of the officers who took these great sums out +of the pockets of clerks and clergymen, widows and orphans. Something +must be done, and that speedily, to correct this abuse even among the +honest companies, and the way to doing it is pointed out in the article +to which we refer. + + +--Since we prepared our last nebulous notes, General Grant has passed +into private life. The country has accepted the event as a matter of +course; it has elicited very little comment. The end of his +administration was made the occasion of some retrospection and some +criticism, it is true; but that did not, in either case, touch the +subject which presents itself to us in connection with the change which +took place in Washington on the 4th of March. General Grant, by becoming +then a mere private citizen, closed one of the most remarkable careers +in modern history. Men, a very few men, have done more, or been more, +than he has done or has been; but it would be difficult to name a man in +modern times who rose from obscurity to such a height, passed through +such a series of events, held such power, and who passed peaceably, and +in full possession of his health and all his faculties, into an +absolutely powerless and private condition, and all this in sixteen +years. The experiences of Cromwell and Washington were most nearly like +Grant's. But Cromwell fought six years ere he won his crowning victory +at Worcester; and although he was made Lord Protector in 1657, was known +to all England as an able and energetic member of the Long Parliament, +and one of the leaders of the popular party in 1640, seventeen years +before. Washington also saw six years pass from the time when he drew +his sword under the old elm at Cambridge, as Commander-in-Chief of the +colonial forces, to that when he received Lord Cornwallis's at the +surrender of Yorktown; and, made President in 1789, he retired in 1797, +twenty-three years after he took command. But he was a prominent citizen +of Virginia thirty-five years before that date, and was nominated deputy +to the colonial congress in 1774. The position of our retiring President +was very different, and his career was briefer and more crowded with +events. In March, 1861, except his old West Point comrades and his few +personal acquaintances, there were probably not twenty people in the +country who knew of the existence of ex-brevet Captain Grant, U.S.A. +Three years saw him the victor in hard-fought fields, in which the +forces on either side more than trebled all that ever Cromwell or +Washington commanded, and in 1864 he became General-in-Chief of the +immense army of one of the great powers of the world; one year more saw +him absolute victor, and the saviour of the Union. Four years passed, +and he voluntarily laid down his sword and his supreme military command, +to become President of the United States, doing so because he was +regarded as the only man who could save in peace what he won in war. At +the end of four years, he received, like Washington and Jefferson, +Jackson and Lincoln, the honor of a reelection, and three years later he +seemed likely to have the unprecedented distinction of an election to a +third term. Now, although we may not say there is none so poor to do him +honor, he is entirely without position, military or civil, and it is +certainly true that many a mousing politician has far more influence +than the victor of Appomatox and he who was once dreaded by many people, +and looked to by others without dread, as the coming "man on horseback." + + +--Such a career in these days was possible only in this country, and +here it will probably be impossible hereafter. Of civil war we have, we +may be sure, seen the last, as it was really the first, that was ever +fought on our soil. And indeed it was big enough to suffice for our +share of that sort of thing for ever. That we shall ever be called upon +to wage war with a foreign foe is in the extremest degree improbable. No +other power wants any of our territory, at the price, at least, which it +would cost to get it; and we have taken all that we want from other +people. Cuba, if we get it--the advantage of which is not clear to all +minds--we shall get by purchase. We shall, therefore, it would seem, +never be so greatly indebted again to a successful general. In case we +should be so, and he should be one of General Sherman's successors, it +may be reasonably doubted if, with General Grant's experience before his +eyes, he will give up the assured life position of General-in-Chief for +the temporary honors and troubles of the Presidential chair. It is not +necessary to be a blind admirer of General Grant, or a member of the +party which made him twice President, to do him the justice of admitting +that his resignation of the office which he won with such eclat, and +held with such general honor, the world over, was a sacrifice to the +good of the Union for which he fought. He had for life a position +equally honorable with that of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and +more striking in its distinction. He had no superior but the President +of the United States; not a certain man, but the incumbent of the office +for the time being. He might, and probably would, have seen a succession +of such men rise, and pass into powerless privacy, while he maintained +his high position. He gave up this permanent distinction, with its +well-assured emoluments, at what we must admit that he regarded as the +call of duty, of patriotism. And now he is, so to speak, a nobody. +Admitting all the errors that have been charged against him--and he +doubtless committed many--admitting even that the party which he +represented is hostile to the best interests of the country (we do not +say that it is so, for we speak for no party and in no political +interest in these pages)--the spectacle of the passage of such a man +into absolute public insignificance, without any public care or public +thought for his future, is a very impressive one, and one not in all +respects admirable. As his career was possible only in this country, so +also was the close of it. The government, the people of no other great +nation, would drop a man who had done what he did, and held the +positions which he held, into an unprovided, obscure future, putting him +off, like an old shoe. Once the victorious commander of an army of half +a million of men, a man whose name was in the mouths of all the +civilized world, for eight years the ruler, with more than kingly power, +of a nation of forty millions, and a country which stretched from the +Atlantic to the Pacific, and which covered the temperate zone in a +continent, he has been remitted again, as far as the nation is +concerned, into his former unimportance, we cannot say obscurity, to +live a private life upon a very moderate competence. It may be right +that this should be so; but none the less is the spectacle one of great +interest and significance; all the more is his brief career one of the +most remarkable in the history of civilized peoples. + + +--General Grant's successor seems to be in earnest upon one subject, in +his apparent purpose in regard to which he must have the hearty approval +of good men of all parties--civil service reform. In this there is no +doubt that General Grant himself was at first quite as earnest. But the +Republican politicians were too much for him; his own military habits of +thought and his devotion to his personal friends also led him to adopt a +course of action in this respect inconsistent with the purpose which he +first avowed in regard to it; and the great and much needed reform still +remains to be worked out. After all, the principal point, the great +good, to be attained is the suppression of office-seeking as a sort of +business, the extinction of office-seekers as a class. Our politics are +sadly in need of purification. The corruption which disgraces our +Government in the eyes of all good men at home and abroad taints both +parties. In this respect there is nothing to choose between them. Now +nothing would tend so much to better our condition in this respect as +the absolute removal from the arena of political strife of the tens of +thousands of minor offices at the disposal of the party in possession of +the Government. Let them no longer be the prizes of victory at the +polls, and the men who now make politics a trade would find their +occupation gone, and they would no longer concern themselves much about +nominations and elections. The political affairs of the country would +then naturally fall into the hands of the honest, intelligent, and +thrifty men who now have little influence upon them. Let it be once +understood that, whatever party is in power, no man in office, except +those directly around the President, is to be removed except for +incompetence, neglect, or malversation, and the first great step will +have been taken toward our political regeneration. Nor is its influence +upon politics the only great benefit which would thus be secured. The +existence of a great body of men who are withholding themselves from the +ordinary business and work of life in the hope that something will turn +up in politics which will enable them to live, and perhaps to get money +in irregular ways, by office-holding, is demoralizing. It tends to make +and to keep in existence a body of shiftless men who otherwise would be +obliged to turn their attention to mechanics, to trade, to agriculture. +It helps to increase our too great tendency to speculative and unstable +habits of life. It is bad in every way. As to the particular method by +which the much-needed change is to be brought about there may be various +opinions; but among sensible and decent men there is none as to the +prime necessity of the extinction of office-seeking. In whatever he may +do to effect this the new President will have the best wishes even of +the greater number of those who cast their votes against him. + + +--From civil service to domestic service is a great leap; but there is +this likeness between the two, that both, in this country at least, are +in a deplorable condition of inefficiency. And as to domestic service, +the complaints of householders in England are hardly less loud and +grievous than those which go up daily in America. In both countries +there is a great cry for provision for unemployed women; and yet in +both countries the procurement of women capable and willing to give +good household work in return for good wages seems to vibrate between +the not remote points of difficulty and impossibility. Disorder, dirt, +waste, and cooking which is only the destruction of good viands by +reducing them to an unpalatable and indigestible condition are, +according to all accounts, the lot of all housekeepers whose means do +not enable them to procure the most skilful and highly trained domestic +servants. In England a strange remedy has been proposed, adopted in a +measure, and thus far with success. It is the introduction of what are +called, even in England, "lady helps." There is something amusing in +seeing our cousins, who used to sneer at the Yankee phrase "helps," and +also at the Yankee help herself, who would not be regarded (unwisely it +may be) as a servant, turn in despair to the word and the thing as the +only relief in their domestic perplexity. The scheme was first proposed +by Mrs. Crayshaw, of Cyfarthfa Castle, the wife of one of the +wealthiest iron masters in England. Considering the fact, known to +everybody there, that there were thousands of poor gentlewomen--that +is, of women born and bred in the comparatively wealthy and cultivated +classes--who were absolutely penniless, living in want, in suffering, +or in a pitiful and oppressive dependence, she thought that many of +these women would be willing to enter domestic service under certain +conditions. She made inquiries; she was encouraged; and she set herself +to work to effect what promises to be a great and beneficent reform. +The conditions which she exacted for her _protegees_ were that they +should have comfortable and separate rooms, that they should be called +upon to do none of the rough work, like scrubbing, for example, or +boot-cleaning (although they were responsible for its being well done), +and that they should be treated with personal respect. They were to be +called "lady helps." She started her project only about two years ago; +and although it was met at first with incredulity and with ridicule, +already it is so successful that although the applicants for such +employment are many, she cannot supply the demand by housekeepers for +her helpful ladies. For it is found that these ladies give what is +wanted, intelligent, conscientious service. They are truthful; they can +be trusted; they learn easily; they work well; they are quiet, pleasant +in manner; and, strange to say, they are cheerful. To the last one +other of her conditions may contribute largely. They are to be hired +only in couples, so that they have companionship of their own sort. +What will be the end of all this who can tell? The prospect, however, +is cheering to that class of householders who have not large means and +who yet require faithful, well-trained, intelligent domestic servants +for their daily comfort, and no less to a large class of respectable +and educated women, who may find under the new domestic regime a refuge +from the woes of extremest poverty--poverty which presses the more +hardly upon them because they are educated and respectable. There is +nothing in itself degrading in the performance of domestic labor; quite +the contrary. No woman who is worthy of her sex hesitates to perform it +for her husband, her children, or herself, or feels in the least +degraded thereby, or is so regarded by her acquaintances. The feeling +against performing it for others is a mere prejudice born of custom, of +fashion. Let it once be understood that no woman loses the respect of +others or need diminish her own by doing it for others as a means of +livelihood, and the ranks of lady helps will be crowded. + + +--In illustration and in furtherance of Mrs. Crayshaw's truly, and, it +would seem, wisely benevolent scheme, a little book has just been +published in England, and reprinted in this country. It is by Mrs. +Warren, who is the writer of some half a dozen excellent hand-books of +household management. It professes to tell the story of the troubles of +a small household, that of a professional man, whose wife is reduced to +despair by the incompetence, the neglect, the wastefulness, the +untruthfulness, and the dishonesty of the servants, who come to her one +after another, each worse than the other. The causes of complaint are +exactly those from which American housewives suffer. Depending upon her +servants, whose deficiencies she is incapable of supplying herself, she +is sometimes unable to give her husband a wholesome meal, decently +served; and this preys upon her to such a degree that when he happens to +be kept away she fancies that he remains away voluntarily because his +home is unattractive. In her despair she proposes a "lady help" to him. +He scouts the suggestion. The thing is impossible, ridiculous. She +practises a pious deceit upon him; gets a lady help surreptitiously into +the house, and keeps her out of sight until order, and cleanliness, and +good dinners have subdued him into a proper frame of mind to receive +with meek acquiescence the announcement of the origin of this beneficent +change. Then all goes on happily. Money is saved, comfort supplants +wretchedness and confusion, and domestic life becomes enjoyable upon a +small income. It must be admitted that the authoress has it all her own +way. The lady help is a paragon. She is the niece of a distinguished man +of science, well bred, highly educated, self-respecting, but humble and +modest, kind-hearted, and without the least pride or false shame. She is +an angel of goodness to the under servant, who does the coarse work of +the house, and teaches her as if she were her younger sister. She +herself, although invited into the parlor and to sit at the family +table, prefers to remain in the kitchen, which she brings into such a +condition of neatness and order that it is a sort of little culinary +palace. Plainly such women cannot be always looked for in "lady helps," +and, moreover, there is this difficulty: If it should get about, as it +surely would, that such a paragon of womanhood and housekeeping skill +was to be found, if she had only moderate personal attraction, the +kitchen over which she "presided" would be besieged by an army of +bachelors, among whom it would be quite out of the order of nature that +there should not be one that would victoriously carry her captive and +put her in a parlor somewhere, with "helps," lady or other, to do her +bidding. + + +--A story quoted by Mrs. Warren in illustration of the imperfect +apprehension and confused memory of many people, particularly those of +the class from which servants usually come, is too good to be passed by. +The Rev. Dr. McLeod relates in his journal that he once received from +two intending communicants the following replies to the following +questions: + + Who led the children of Israel out of Egypt?--Eve. + + Who was Eve?--The mother of God. + + What death did Christ die? [After a long time came the answer]--He + was hanged on a tree. + + What did they do with the body?--Laid it in a manger. + + What did Christ do for sinners?--Gave his Son. + + Do you know of any wonderful works that Christ did?--Made the World + in six days. + + Any others?--Buried Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. + + What became of them afterwards?--Angels took them to Abraham's + bosom. + + What had Christ to do with that?--He took Abraham. + + Who was Christ?--The Holy Spirit. + + Are you a sinner?--No. + + Did you never sin? and do you love God perfectly?--Yes. + +This reminds us of the Cambridge (England) student who, on his divinity +examination, being called upon to give the parable of the Good +Samaritan, after reciting the benevolent man's promise to the host, "and +when I come again I will repay thee," wound up with "This he said, +knowing he should see his face no more." + + +--Ex-Mayor Hall has made a very needless stir in New York and throughout +the country, and seems to have managed his disappearance very +bunglingly. Is it not, indeed, very commonly the case that men who wish +to go away secretly and have their whereabouts unknown--perpetrators of +great frauds, robberies, murders, and the like--neglect what seems to +disinterested persons the easiest, most obvious, and most sure means of +concealment, while they lay themselves out with great labor and +ingenuity upon others which are of secondary importance, and which seem +not likely to present themselves to the inquiring mind under such +peculiar circumstances? Mr. Hall, we assume for good reasons, wished to +leave New York suddenly, to live in retirement, and not to have the +place of his retreat known. He therefore gathers a little money +together, and without saying a word to any one, takes ship at Boston and +goes to England. He simply disappears. Consequently within twenty-four +hours suspicion is aroused, within forty-eight anxiety is felt, and in +the course of three or four days a hue and cry is sent over the whole +country. It goes to England, of course, by telegraph, and when the +steamers arrive a prying, mousing gentleman, whose business it is to +find out things for the New York press, visits them one by one, passes +the passengers under inspection, and of course finds Mr. Hall, +spectacles and all. It is strange that a man of Mr. Hall's experience of +the world, a criminal lawyer, an ex-mayor, a political associate of +Tweed, Sweeney, and Connelly, should not have seen that such would be +the inevitable course of events if he should leave New York as he did. +But how natural for him to say that he was called East, or West, or +South by important business which would keep him away ten days or a +fortnight, to provide his family and his clerk with that response to +inquiries, even if the former suspected the true state of the case, and +then to start for England. True enough, in the end his flight would be +known, which was inevitable; but he would have had a full fortnight's +start, and would have been comfortably on the continent or hidden in the +wilderness of London, probably the best place in the world for the +concealment of a fugitive person who is not very singular in appearance +and in habits, and who is not known at all to the London police. Mr. +Hall might, with a little forethought, have so arranged his affairs that +he would have been out of reach and past recognition before suspicion +was aroused, not to say before a hue and cry was raised. But as it was, +this astute lawyer, this crafty politician, who has been familiar with +the ways of tricky people all his life, who knows by constant +intercourse with them the habits of men that fly and men that pursue, +who is practically acquainted with journalism, does just what defeats +his purpose--whatever was the occasion of his leaving New York so +suddenly, as to which we say nothing. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, May, 1877, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, MAY, 1877 *** + +***** This file should be named 32617.txt or 32617.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/1/32617/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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. 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