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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44810 ***
+
+Chats in the Book-room
+
+
+
+
+  Of this Book only One Hundred and Fifty
+  Copies were privately printed for the
+  Author, on Arnold's Unbleached Handmade
+  Paper, in the month of January
+  1896---of which this is
+
+  _No. 25_
+
+[Illustration: H.N. Pym]
+
+[Illustration: _Walker and Boutall ph. fc._]
+
+
+
+
+  Chats in the
+  Book-room
+
+  By
+
+  Horace N. Pym
+
+  Editor of Caroline Fox's Journals; A Mother's Memoir;
+  A Tour Round my Book-shelves, etc. etc.
+
+  _With Portrait by MOLLY EVANS, and Two
+  Photogravures of the Book-room_
+
+  "If any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories,
+  be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is
+  one of your familiar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict
+  him."--Sir Matthew Hale.
+
+  Privately Printed for the Author in the Year
+  1896 by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
+
+
+
+
+  _To_
+
+  _My Dearly Loved Son_
+
+  _Julian Tindale Pym_
+
+
+  _I dedicate these "Chats in the Book-room," to which I ask him to
+  extend that noble "Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill," which
+  gilds and elevates his life._
+
+            H. N. P.
+
+      Christmas,
+  Foxwold Chase, 1895.
+
+
+
+
+Table of Contents
+
+    "_Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers,
+      Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past,
+    Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers,
+      That warm its creeping life-blood till the last._"
+          O. W. Holmes.
+
+
+                                                              PAGE
+
+  Introduction 1
+
+
+  CHAT I.
+
+  On Richard Corney Grain--His home qualities--His love for
+  children--His benevolence--His power of pathos--His letter
+  on a holiday                                                   3
+
+
+  CHAT II.
+
+  On a portrait of General Wolfe--On the use of portraits in
+  country-houses--On a sale at Christie's--A curious story
+  about a curious sale                                           8
+
+
+  CHAT III.
+
+  On holiday trips--Across the Atlantic--Some humours of
+  the voyage--Some stories told in the gun-room                 18
+
+
+  CHAT IV.
+
+  On a private visit to Newgate prison--In Execution
+  yard--Some anecdotes of the condemned                         34
+
+
+  CHAT V.
+
+  On Book-binding--Some worthy members of the craft--On
+  over-work and the modern race for wealth--Charles Dickens
+  on work--A Song of the City--Anecdote of Mr. Anstey Guthrie   41
+
+
+  CHAT VI.
+
+  On an uninvited guest--Her illness--Her convalescence--Her
+  recovery--Her gratitude--On texts in bedrooms--A
+  welcoming banner                                              53
+
+
+  CHAT VII.
+
+  On some minor poets--On _vers de Société_--On
+  Praed, C. S. Calverley, Locker-Lampson, and Mr. A. Dobson     58
+
+
+  CHAT VIII.
+
+  On Mr. Punch and his founders--Concerning portraits of
+  Jerrold, Kenny Meadows, and Horace Mayhew--On Mr. Sala as a
+  painter--A letter from G. A. Sala                             66
+
+
+  CHAT IX.
+
+  On our schooldays--On Bedford, past and present--On R. C.
+  Lehmann--A poem by him--A Christmas greeting by
+  H. E. Luxmoore                                                73
+
+
+  CHAT X.
+
+  On John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry"--His friendship with
+  Dickens--His letter to Dickens detailing the French
+  Revolution of 1848                                            82
+
+
+  CHAT XI.
+
+  On Ethie Castle--Its artistic treasures--A letter from
+  Charles II.--A true family ghost story                        99
+
+
+  CHAT XII.
+
+  On Cardinal Manning--Dramatic effect at his _Academia_--On
+  Poets who are never read, or "hardly ever"                   108
+
+
+  CHAT XIII.
+
+  On a true story, called "Jane will return"--On Hamilton's
+  "Parodies"--An unknown one, by the Rev. James Bolton         119
+
+
+  CHAT XIV.
+
+  On autographs--Mr. James Payn and his lay-sermons--Mrs.
+  Charles Fox of Trebah--Her friendship with Hartley
+  Coleridge--A letter from him--A letter from John Bright
+  to Caroline Fox--Mr. Ruskin as a mineral
+  collector--Five unpublished letters from him                 125
+
+
+  CHAT XV.
+
+  On Mrs. Lyne Stephens--The story of her early
+  life--Thackeray's sketch of her--Her art
+  collections--A wonderful sale at Christie's--Her charities
+  and friendships--Her death--Her funeral
+  sermon--Her portraits                                        143
+
+    "_I come not here your morning hour to sadden,
+      A limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,--
+    I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden
+      This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh._"
+              --The Iron Gate.
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+
+  Portrait                                _To face the Title Page_
+
+           The Book-room (First View)                    _Page_ 58
+
+           The Book-room (Second View)                      "  113
+
+
+
+
+Introduction.
+
+    "_Some of your griefs you have cured,
+    And the sharpest you still have survived;
+    But what torments of pain you endured,
+    From evils that never arrived!_"
+
+
+A few years ago a little inconsequent volume was launched on partial
+acquaintance, telling of some ordinary books which line our friendly
+shelves, of some kindly friends who had read and chatted about them,
+some old stories they had told, and some happy memories they had
+awakened.
+
+When those acquaintances had read the little book, they asked, like
+Oliver, for more. A rash request, because, unlike Oliver, they get it
+in the shape of another "Olla Podrida" of book-chat, picture-gossip,
+and perchance a stray "chestnut." Their good-nature must be invoked to
+receive it, like C. S. Calverley's sojourners--
+
+    "Who when they travel, if they find
+      That they have left their pocket-compass,
+    Or Murray, or thick boots behind,
+      They raise no rumpus."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 1.
+
+    "_Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,
+    With too serene a conscience drew
+    Your easy breath, and slumbered through
+              The gravest issue;
+    But we, to whom our age allows
+    Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,
+    Look down upon your narrow house,
+              Old friend, and miss you._"
+              --Austin Dobson.
+
+
+Since we made our last "Tour Round the Book-shelves," death has
+removed one of the kindest friends, and most genial companions, of
+the Book-room. In Richard Corney Grain, Foxwold has lost one of its
+pleasantest and most welcome guests, and it is doubtful, well as the
+public cared for and appreciated his genius, if it knew or suspected
+how generous a heart, and how wide a charity, moved beneath that
+massive frame. When rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon thing
+for Dick Grain to dedicate them to the solace and amusement of some
+hospital or children's home, where, with a small cottage piano, he
+would, moving from ward to ward, give the suffering patients an hour's
+freedom from their pain, and some happy laughs amid their misery.
+
+One day, after a series of short performances in the different parts of
+one of our large London hospitals, he was about to sing in the accident
+ward, when the secretary to the hospital gravely asked him "Not to be
+too funny in this room, for fear he'd make the patients burst their
+bandages!"
+
+Dick Grain was never so happy, so natural, or so amusing as when, of
+his own motion, he was singing to a nursery full of children in a
+country house.
+
+Those who knew him well were aware that, delightful as were all his
+humorous impersonations, he had a graver and more impressive side to
+his lovable and admirable character, and that he would sometimes, when
+sure he would be understood, sing a pathetic song, which made the tears
+flow as rapidly as in others the smiles had been evoked.
+
+Who that heard it will forget his little French song, supposed to be
+sung by one of the first Napoleon's old Guard for bread in the streets.
+He sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice a song of victory,
+breaking off in the middle of a line full of the sound of battle to
+cough a hacking cough, and beg a sous for the love of God!
+
+Subjoined is one of his friendly little notes, full of the quiet happy
+humour that made him so welcome a guest in every friend's house.
+
+            Hothfield Place,
+                Ashford, Kent.
+
+     "My dear Pym,
+
+     I shall be proud to welcome you and Mrs. Pym on Wednesday the
+     26th, but why St. George's Hall? Why not go at once to a play and
+     not to an entertainment? Plays at night. Entertainments in the
+     afternoon. Besides, we are so empty in the evenings now, the new
+     piece being four weeks overdue. Anyhow, I hope to see you at 8
+     Weymouth Street on Nov. 26th, at any hour after my work, say 10.15
+     or 10.30, and so on, every quarter of an hour.
+
+     "I am dwelling in the Halls of the Great, waited on by powdered
+     menials, who rather look down on me, I think, and hide my clothes,
+     and lay things out I don't wish to put on, and button my collar
+     on to my shirt, and my braces on to my----, and when I try to
+     throw the braces over my shoulders I hit my head with the buckle,
+     and get my collar turned upside down, and tear out the buttons in
+     my endeavours to get it right; and they fill my bath so full, that
+     the displacement caused by my unwieldy body sends quarts of water
+     through the ceiling on to the drawing-room--the Red Drawing-room.
+     Piano covered with the choicest products of Eastern towns. Luckily
+     the party is small, so we only occupy the Dragon's Blood Room, so
+     perhaps they won't notice it. But a truce to fooling till Nov.
+     26.--Yours sincerely,
+
+              R. Corney Grain."
+
+     _Nov. 16, 1890._
+
+He was one of the most gifted, warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism
+was all upon the surface, and was never unkind, the big heart beat true
+beneath. His premature death has eclipsed the honest gaiety of this
+nation--"he should have died hereafter."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 2.
+
+    "_Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
+      To all the sensual world proclaim,
+    One crowded hour of glorious life,
+      Is worth an age without a name._"
+              --Old Mortality.
+
+
+A picture hangs at Foxwold of supreme interest and beauty, being a
+portrait of General Wolfe by Gainsborough. Its history is shortly
+this--painted in Bath in 1758, probably for Miss Lowther, to whom he
+was then engaged, and whose miniature he was wearing when death claimed
+him; it afterwards became the property of Mr. Gibbons, a picture
+collector, who lived in the Regent's Park in London, descending in due
+course to his son, whose widow eventually sold it to Thomas Woolner,
+the R.A. and sculptor; it was bought for Foxwold from Mrs. Woolner in
+1895.
+
+The great master has most wonderfully rendered the hero's long, gaunt,
+sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full of coming sorrow and present
+ill-health. His cocked hat and red coat slashed with silver braid are
+brilliantly painted, whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued by a
+touch of powder.
+
+One especial interest that attends this picture in its present home is,
+that within two miles of Foxwold he was born, and passed some youthful
+years in the picturesque little town of Westerham, his birthplace,
+and that his short and wonderful career will always be especially
+connected with Squerryes Court, then the property of his friend George
+Warde, and still in the possession of that family.
+
+Until recently no adequate or satisfactory life of Wolfe existed,
+but Mr. A. G. Bradley has now filled the gap with his beautiful and
+affecting monograph for the Macmillan Series of English Men of Action:
+a little book which should be read by every English boy who desires to
+know by what means this happy land is what it is.
+
+In country houses the best decoration is portraits, portraits, and
+always portraits. In the town by all means show fine landscape and
+sea-scape--heathery hills and blue seas--fisher folks and plough
+boys--but when from your windows the happy autumn fields and glowing
+woods are seen, let the eye returning to the homely walls be cheered
+with the answer of face to face, human interests and human features
+leading the memory into historic channels and memory's brightest
+corners. How pleasant it is in the room where, in the spirit, we now
+meet, to chat beneath the brilliant eyes of R. B. Sheridan, limned by
+Sir Joshua, or to note with a smile the dignified importance of Fuseli,
+painted by Harlow, or to turn to the last portrait of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds, painted by himself, and of which picture Mr. Ruskin once
+remarked, "How deaf he has drawn himself."
+
+Of the fashion in particular painters' works, Christie's rooms give
+a most instructive object-lesson. It is within the writer's memory
+when Romneys could be bought for £20 apiece, and now that they are
+fetching thousands, the wise will turn to some other master at present
+neglected, and gather for his store pictures quite as full of beauty
+and truth, and whose price will not cause his heirs to blaspheme.
+
+A constant watchful attendance at Christie's is in itself a liberal
+education, and it seldom happens that those who know cannot during its
+pleasant season find "that grain of gold" which is often hidden away
+in a mass of mediocrity. And then those clever, courteous members of
+the great house are always ready to give the modest inquirer the full
+benefit of their vast knowledge, and, if necessary, will turn to their
+priceless records, and guide the timid, if appreciative, visitor into
+the right path of selection.
+
+What a delightful thing it is to be present at a field-day in King
+Street. The early lunch at the club--the settling into a backed-chair
+at the exactly proper angle to the rostrum and the picture-stand. (The
+rostrum, by the way, was made by Chippendale for the founder of the
+house.) At one o'clock the great Mr. Woods winds his way through the
+expectant throng, and is promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps of
+which are as promptly tucked in and the business and pleasure of the
+afternoon begins. Mr. Woods, dominating his audience
+
+    "As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
+    Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,"
+
+gives a quick glance round the big room, now filled with well-known
+faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is often priceless. Sir William
+Agnew rubs shoulders with Lord Rosebery, and Sir T. C. Robinson
+whispers his doubts of a picture to a Trustee of the National
+Collection; old Mr. Vokins extols, if you care to listen, the old
+English water-colourists, to many of whom he was a good friend, and Mr.
+George Redford makes some notes of the best pictures for the Press; but
+Mr. Woods' quiet incisive voice demands silence as Lot 1 is offered
+with little prefix, and soon finds a buyer at a moderate price.
+
+The catalogues, which read so pleasantly and convey so much within a
+little space, are models of clever composition, beginning with items of
+lesser interest and carefully leading up to the great attractions of
+the afternoon, which fall to the bid of thousands of guineas from some
+great picture-buyer, amidst the applause of the general crowd.
+
+A pure Romney, a winsome Gainsborough, a golden Turner, or a Corot
+full of mystery and beauty, will often evoke a round of hand-clapping
+when it appears upon the selling-easel, and a swift and sharp contest
+between two or three well-known connoisseurs will excite the audience
+like a horse-race, a fencing bout, or a stage drama.
+
+The history of Christie's is yet to be written, notwithstanding Mr.
+Redford's admirable work on "Art Sales," and when it is written it
+should be one of the most fascinating histories of the nineteenth
+century; but where is the Horace Walpole to indite such a work? and who
+possesses the necessary materials?
+
+One curious little history I can tell concerning a sale in recent years
+of the Z---- collection of pictures and _objets d'art_, which will, to
+those who know it not, prove "a strange story."
+
+A former owner, distinguished by his social qualities and position, in
+a fit of passion unfortunately killed his footman. The wretched victim
+had no friends, and was therefore not missed, and the only person,
+besides his slayer, aware of his death, and how it was caused, was
+the butler. The crime was therefore successfully concealed, and no
+inquiries made. But after a little time the butler began to use his
+knowledge for his own personal purposes.
+
+Putting the pressure of the blackmailer upon his unhappy master, he
+began to make him sing, by receiving as the price of his silence, first
+a fine picture or two, then some rare china, followed by art furniture,
+busts, more pictures, and more china, until he had well-nigh stripped
+the house.
+
+Still, like the daughter of the horse-leech, crying, "Give, give!" he
+made his nominal master assign to him the entire estates, reserving
+only to himself a life interest, which, in his miserable state of
+bondage, did not last long.
+
+The chief butler on his master's death took his name and possessions,
+ousting the rightful heirs; and after enjoying a wicked, but not
+uncommon, prosperity with his stolen goods for some years, he also died
+in the odour of sanctity, and went to his own place.
+
+His successors, hearing uneasy rumours, determined to be rid of their
+tainted inheritance; so placed all the pictures and pretty things in
+the sale-market, and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten property.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 3.
+
+    "_Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
+      Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?
+    Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
+      To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+The best holiday for an over-worked man, who has little time to spare,
+and who has not given "hostages to fortune," is to sail across the
+herring-pond on a Cunarder or White Star hotel, and so get free from
+newspapers, letters, visitors, dinner-parties, and all the daily
+irritations of modern life.
+
+Those grand Atlantic rollers fill the veins with new life, the tired
+brain with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle days slip away all too
+soon, after which a short stay in New York or Boston City, and then
+back again.
+
+The study of character on board is always pleasant and instructive, and
+sometimes a happy friendship is begun which lasts beyond the voyage.
+
+Then, again, the cliques into which the passengers so naturally fall,
+is funny to watch. The reading set, who early and late occupy the
+best placed chairs, and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous
+literature, and are only roused therefrom by the ringing summons to
+meals; then there is the betting and gambling set, who fill card and
+smoking room as long as the rules permit, coming to the surface now
+and then for breath, and to see what the day's run has been, or to
+organise fresh sweepstakes; then there is often an evangelical set,
+who gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted, and sing hymns, and
+address in fervid tones the sinners around them; then there are the
+gossips (most pleasant folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians,
+those who dress three times a day, and those who dress hardly at all:
+and so the drama of a little world is played before a very appreciative
+little audience.
+
+I remember on such a journey being greatly interested in the study of a
+delightful rugged old Scotch engineer, whose friendship I obtained by a
+genuine admiration for his devotion to his engines, and his belief in
+their personality. It was his habit in the evening, after a long day's
+run, to sit alongside these throbbing monsters and play his violin to
+them, upon which he was a very fair performer, saying, "They deserved
+cheering up a bit after such a hard day's work!" This was a real and
+serious sentiment on his part, and inspired respect and an amused
+admiration on ours.
+
+The humours of one particular voyage which I have in my memory, were
+delightfully intensified by the presence on board of a very charming
+American child, called Flossie L----, about fourteen years old, who by
+her capital repartees, acute observation, and pretty face, kept her
+particular set of friends very much alive, and made all who knew her,
+her devoted slaves and admirers.
+
+Her remark upon a preternaturally grave person, who marched the deck
+each day before our chairs, "that she guessed he had a lot of laughter
+coiled up in him somewhere," proved, before the voyage was over, to be
+quite true.
+
+It was this gentleman who, one morning, solemnly confided to a friend
+that he was a little suspicious of the drains on board!
+
+Americanisms, which are now every one's property, were at this time--I
+am speaking of twenty years ago--not so common, and glided from
+Flossie's pretty lips most enchantingly. To be told on a wet morning,
+with half a gale of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat and gum-boots"
+to meet the elements, was at that day startling, if useful, advice. She
+professed a serious attachment for a New York cousin, aged sixteen,
+"Because," she said, "he is so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars,
+reads novels, and runs away when offered candy." Her quieter moments on
+deck were passed in reading 'Dombey and Son,' which, when finished,
+she pronounced to be all wrong, "only one really nice man in the
+book--Carker--and he ought to have married Floey."
+
+Mr. Hugh Childers, then First Lord of the Admiralty, was a passenger
+on board our boat, and having with infinite kindness and patience
+explained to the child our daily progress with a big chart spread on
+the deck and coloured pins, was somewhat startled to see her execute
+a _pas seul_ over his precious map and disappear down the nearest
+gangway, with the remark, "My sakes, Mr. Childers, how terribly
+frivolous you are!"
+
+She had a youthful brother on board, who, one day at dinner, astonished
+his table by coolly saying, as he pointed to a most inoffensive old
+lady dining opposite to him, "Steward, take away that woman, she makes
+me sick!"
+
+A stout and amiable friend of Flossie's, who shall be nameless in
+these blameless records, on coming in sight of land assumed, and I
+fear did it very badly, some emotion at the first sight of her great
+country, only to be crushed by her immediate order, given in the sight
+and hearing of some hundred delighted passengers, "Sailor, give this
+trembling elephant an arm, I guess he's going to be sick!" Luckily for
+him the voyage was practically over, but for its small remnant he was
+known to every one on board as the trembling elephant.
+
+One day a pleasant little American neighbour at dinner touched one's
+sense of humour by naïvely saying, "If you don't remove that nasty
+little boiled hen in front of you, I know I must be ill."
+
+Then there was a dull and solemn prig on board, who at every meal
+gave us, unasked, and _apropos des bottes_, some tremendous facts and
+statistics to digest, such as the number of shrimps eaten each year
+in London, or how many miles of iron tubing go to make the Saltash
+bridge. Finding one morning on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy
+of Whitaker's Almanack and a volume of Mayhew's "London Labour and
+the London Poor," we recognised the source of his elucidations, and
+promptly consigned his precious books to a watery grave. Of that
+voyage, so far as he was concerned, the rest was silence.
+
+Upon remarking to an American on board that the gentleman in question
+was rather slow, he brought down a Nasmyth hammer with which to crack
+his nut by saying, "Slow, sir; yes, he's a big bit slower than the hour
+hand of eternity!"
+
+I remember on another pleasant voyage to Boston meeting and forming
+lasting friendship with the late Judge Abbott of that city, whose
+stories and conversation were alike delightful. He spoke of a rival
+barrister, who once before the law courts, on opening his speech for
+the defence of some notorious prisoner, said, "Gentlemen, I shall
+divide my address to you into three parts, and in the first I shall
+confine myself to the _Facts_ of this case; secondly, I shall endeavour
+to explain the _Law_ of this case; and finally, I shall make an
+all-fired rush at your passions!"
+
+It was Judge Abbott who told me that when at the Bar he defended, and
+successfully, a young man charged with forging and uttering bank-notes
+for large values. After going fully into the case, he was entirely
+convinced of his client's innocence, an impression with which he
+succeeded in imbuing the court. After his acquittal, his client, to
+mark his extreme sense of gratitude to his counsel's ability, insisted
+upon paying him double fees. The judge's pleasure at this compliment
+became modified, when it soon after proved that the said fees were
+remitted in notes undoubtedly forged, and for the making of which he
+had just been tried and found "not guilty!"
+
+Speaking one day of the general ignorance of the people one met, he
+very aptly quoted one of Beecher Ward's witty aphorisms, "That it
+is wonderful how much knowledge some people manage to steer clear
+of." Another quotation of his from the same ample source, I remember
+especially pleased me. Speaking of the morbid manner in which many
+dwelt persistently on the more sorrowful incidents and accidents of
+their lives, he said, "Don't nurse your sorrows on your knee, but spank
+them and put them to bed!"
+
+On one visit to the States I took a letter of special commendation to
+the worthy landlord of the Parker House Hotel in Boston. On arriving
+I delivered my missive at the bar, was told the good gentleman was
+out, was duly allotted excellent rooms, and later on sat down with
+an English travelling companion to an equally excellent dinner in
+the ladies' saloon. In the middle of our repast we saw a small
+Jewish-looking man wending his way between the many tables in, what
+is literally, the marble hall, towards us. Standing beside our table,
+and regarding us with the benignant expression of an archbishop,
+he carefully, though unasked, filled and emptied a bumper of our
+well-iced Pommery Greno, saying, "Now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my
+name's Parker!"
+
+Upon a first visit to America few things are more striking than the
+originality and vigour of some of the advertisements. One advocating
+the use of some hair-wash or cream pleased us greatly by the simple
+reason it gave for its purchase, "that it was both elegant and chaste."
+Another huge placard represented our Queen Victoria arrayed in crown,
+robes, and sceptre, drinking old Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla out of
+a pewter pint-pot. I also saw a most elaborate allegorical design with
+life-size figures, purporting to induce you to buy and try somebody's
+tobacco. I remember that a tall Yankee, supposed to represent Passion,
+was smoking the said tobacco in a very fiery and aggressive manner,
+that with one hand he was binding Youth and Folly together with chains,
+presumably for refusing him a light, whilst with the other he chucked
+Vice under the chin, she having apparently been more amenable and
+polite.
+
+To note how customs change, I one day in New York entered a car in the
+Broadway, taking the last vacant seat. A few minutes, and we stopped
+again to admit a stout negress laden with her market purchases. The car
+was hot, and I was glad to yield her my seat, and stand on the cooler
+outside platform. She took it with a wide grin, saying with a dramatic
+wave of her dusky paw, "You, sir, am a gentleman, de rest am 'ogs!" a
+speech which would not so many years ago have probably cost her her
+life at the next lamppost.
+
+A Washington doctor once told me the following little story, which
+seems to hold a peculiar humour of its own. A country lad and lassie,
+promised lovers, are in New York for a day's holiday. He takes her into
+one of those sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and pastry shops which
+abound, and asks her tenderly what she'll have? She thinks she'll try
+a brandied peach. The waiter places a large glass cylinder holding
+perhaps a couple of dozen of them on their table, so that they may help
+themselves. These peaches, be it known, are preserved in a spirituous
+syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed, and are very expensive.
+To the horror of the young man, the girl just steadily worked her way
+through the whole bottleful. Having accomplished this feat without
+turning a hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a delicate would-be
+sarcastic note, asks with effusion, if she won't try another peach? To
+which the girl coyly answers, "No thank you, I don't like them, the
+seeds scratch my throat!"
+
+As is well known, most of the waiters and servants in American hotels
+are Irish. Dining with a dear old Canadian friend at the Windsor Hotel
+in New York, we were particularly amused by the quaint look and speech
+of the Irish gentleman who condescended to bring us our dinner. He had
+a face like an unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling merry little
+blue eyes. Not feeling well, I had prescribed for myself a water diet
+during the meal, and hoped my guest would atone for my shortcomings
+with the wine. After he had twice helped himself to champagne, the
+while I modestly sipped my seltzer, my waiter's indignation at what
+he supposed was nothing less than base treachery, found vent in the
+following stage-aside to me: "Hev an oi, sorr, on your frind, he's
+a-gaining on ye!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 4.
+
+    "_Give them strength to brook and bear,
+    Trial pain, and trial care;
+    Let them see Thy saving light;
+    Be Thou 'Watchman of their night.'_"
+              --Sabbath Evening Song.
+
+
+Armed with a special order of the then Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Nicholas
+Fowler, I sallied forth one lovely blue day in June, and timidly rang
+the little brass bell beside the little green door giving into Newgate
+Prison.
+
+The gaol is now only used to house the prisoners on the days of trial,
+and for executions on the days of expiation; at other times, save for
+the presence of a couple of warders, it is entirely empty, and empty it
+was on this my day of call.
+
+Presenting my mandate to the very civil warder who replied to my
+summons, I was (he having to guard the door) handed to his colleague's
+care, to be shown the mysteries of this great silent tomb, lying so
+gloomily amid the City's stir.
+
+The first point of interest was the chapel, with that terribly
+suggestive chair, standing alone in the centre of the floor opposite
+the pulpit, on which the condemned used to sit the Sunday before his
+dreadful death, and, the observed of all the other prisoners, heard
+his own funeral sermon preached--a refinement of cruelty difficult
+to understand in this very Christian country. Then followed a visit
+to the condemned cells, two in number, and which are situated far
+below the level of the outside street. They are small square rooms
+with whitewashed walls, enlivened by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen
+texts; in each is a fixed truckle bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat
+on either side. The warder in attendance stated that he had passed
+many nights in them with condemned prisoners, and had rarely found his
+charges either restless or unable to sleep well, long, and calmly!
+
+There is an old story told of a murderer, about whose case some doubt
+was raised, and to whom the prison chaplain, as he lay under sentence
+of death, lent a Bible. In due course a free pardon arrived, and as the
+prisoner left the gaol, he turned to the chaplain saying, "Well, sir,
+here's your Bible; many thanks for the loan of it, and I only hope I
+shall never want it again."
+
+Then we visited the pinioning room; this process is carried out by
+strapping on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat, with buckles at the
+back and outside sockets for the arms and wrists. While putting on one
+of these, I found the leather was cold and damp; it then occurred to
+me, with some horror, that it was still moist with the death-sweat of
+the executed.
+
+The scaffold stands alone across one of the yards, in a little wooden
+building not inappropriately like a butcher's shop. When used, the
+large shutter in front is let down, and the interior is seen to consist
+of a heavy cross-beam on two uprights, a link or two of chain in the
+middle, a very deep drop, with padded leather sides to deaden the sound
+of the falling platform, a covered space on one side for the coffin,
+and on the other a strong lever, such as is used on railways to move
+the points, and which here draws the bolt, releasing the platform on
+which the culprit stands; a high stool for the victim, should he prove
+nervous or faint--and that is all the furniture and fittings of this
+gruesome building.
+
+The dark cell is perhaps the most dreadful part of this peculiarly
+ghastly show, and after being shut in it for a few minutes, which
+seemed hours, one fully understood its terrific taming power over the
+most rebellious prisoners: you are literally enveloped in a sort of
+velvety blackness that can be felt, which, with the absolute and awful
+silence, seemed to force the blood to the head and choke one.
+
+Upon asking the warder to tell us something of the idiosyncrasies of
+the more celebrated criminals he had known, he stated that Wainright
+the murderer was the most talkative, vain, and boastful person he had
+seen there, that his craving for tobacco was curiously extreme, and
+he was immensely gratified when the governor of the prison promised
+him a large cigar the night before his execution. The promise kept, he
+walked up and down the yard with the governor, detailing with unctuous
+pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions, like another Pepys. "But,"
+added my informant, "the pleasantest, cheeriest man we ever had to hang
+in my time was Dr. Lampson, full of fun and anecdote, with nice manners
+that made him friends all round. He was outwardly very brave in facing
+his fate, and yet, as he walked to the scaffold, those behind him saw
+all the back muscles writhing, working, and twitching like snakes in a
+bag, and thus belying the calm face and gentle smile in front. Ah! we
+missed him very much indeed, and were very sorry to lose him. A real
+gentleman he was in every way!"
+
+It was pleasant, and a vast relief after this strange experience, to
+emerge suddenly from this dream of mad, sad, bad things into the roar
+of the City streets, to see the blue sky, and find men's faces looking
+once again pleasantly into our own; but, nevertheless, Newgate should
+be seen by the curious, and those who can do so without coercion,
+before it disappears.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 5.
+
+    "_To all their dated backs he turns you round:
+    These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+It is the present fashion to extol the old bookbinders at the expense
+of the living, and for collectors to give fabulous prices for a volume
+bound by De Thou, Geoffroy Tory, Philippe le Noir, the two Eves
+(Nicolas and Clovis), Le Gascon, Derome, and others.
+
+Beautiful, rare, and interesting as their work is, I venture to say
+that we have modern bookbinders in England and France who can, and do,
+if you give them plenty of time and a free hand as to price, produce
+work as fine, as original, as closely thought out, as beautiful in
+design, material, and colour, as that of any of the great masters of
+the craft of olden days.
+
+For perfectly simple work of the best kind, examine the bindings of
+the late Francis Bedford; and his name reminds me of a curious freak
+of the late Duke of Portland in relation to this art. He subscribed
+for all the ordinary newspapers and magazines of the day, and instead
+of consigning them to the waste-paper basket when read, had them whole
+bound in beautiful crushed morocco coats of many colours by the said
+Bedford; then he had perfectly fitting oaken boxes made, lined with
+white velvet, and fitted with a patent Bramah lock and duplicate keys,
+each box to hold one volume, the total cost of thus habiting this
+literary rubbish being about £40 a volume. Bedford kept a special staff
+of expert workmen upon this curious standing order until the Duke died.
+By his will he, unfortunately, made them heirlooms, otherwise they
+would have sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles liking to have
+possessed a volume with so odd a history. Soon after the Duke's death I
+went over the well-known house in Cavendish Square with my kind friend
+Mr. Woods of King Street, and he showed me piles of these boxes, each
+containing its beautifully bound volume of uselessness.
+
+But to return to our sheepskins. I would ask, where can you see finer
+workmanship than Mr. Joseph W. Zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting
+covers? He once produced two lovely pieces of softly tanned,
+vellum-like leather of the purest white colour, and asked if I knew
+what they were. After some ineffectual guesses, he stated that the
+one with the somewhat coarser texture was a man's skin, and the finer
+specimen a woman's. The idea was disagreeable, and I declined to
+purchase or to have any volumes belonging to my simple shelves clothed
+in such garments.
+
+An English bookbinder who made a name in his day was Hayday; he
+flourished (as the biographical dictionaries are fond of saying) in
+the beginning of the present reign. I possess Samuel Rogers' "Poems"
+and "Italy," in two quarto volumes, bound by him very charmingly. In
+this size Turner's drawings, which illustrate these two books, are
+shown to admiration, and alone galvanise these otherwise dreary works.
+Hayday was succeeded by one Mansell, who also did some good work; but
+I think domestic affliction beclouded his later years, and affected his
+business, as I have lost sight of him for some years.
+
+Among other English bookbinders of the present day I would name Tout,
+whose simple, Quaker-like work, with Grolier tooling, is worth seeing.
+Mackenzie was, in his day, a good old Scotch binder; but the treasure
+I have personally found and introduced to many, is my excellent friend
+Mr. Birdsall of Northampton. His specialty is supposed to be in vellum
+bindings, which material he manipulates with a grace and finish very
+satisfactory to see. He can make the hinges of a vellum-bound book
+swing as easily as a friend's door. He spares no time, thought, or
+trouble in working out suitable designs for the books entrusted to his
+care. For instance, I possess Benjamin D'Israeli's German Grammar,
+used by him when a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved, he
+specially cast a brass stamp, with D'Israeli's crest, which, impressed
+adown the back and on the panels, correctly finishes this interesting
+memento. Then, again, when he had Beau Brummell's "Life" to work upon,
+he used dies representing a poppy, as an emblem flower, a money-bag,
+very empty, and a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these show thought,
+as well as a pleasant fancy, and greatly add to the interest of the
+completed binding.
+
+I have some work by M. Marius Michel, the great French binder, whose
+show-cases in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain, in Paris, were a treat to
+examine. He was kind enough to let me one fine day select and take
+therefrom two volumes of E. A. Poe's works translated and noted by
+Beaudelaire, beautifully clothed by him; and he, at the same visit,
+gave me an autograph copy of his "L'Ornamentation des Reliures
+Modernes," with which, when I returned to England, I asked Mr. Birdsall
+to do what he could. Set a binder to catch a binder, was in this case
+our motto, and Mr. Birdsall has, I think, fairly caught out his great
+rival, although I have not yet had an opportunity of taking M. Michel's
+opinion upon the Englishman's work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One of the leading characteristics of the present day is its craze
+for work, unceasing work, work early and late, work done with a rush,
+destroying nerves, and rendering repose impossible. "Late taking rest
+and eating the bread of carefulness" do not go together, the bread
+being as a rule anything but carefully consumed. R. L. Stevenson
+somewhere says, "So long as you are a bit of a coward, and inflexible
+in money matters, you fulfil the whole duty of man," and perhaps this
+is the creed of the present race of over-workers. In the City of London
+we see this hasting to be rich brought to the perfection of a Fine Art
+(with a capital F and a capital A).
+
+Charles Dickens, who always resolved the wit of every question into a
+nutshell, makes Eugene Wrayburn, in "Our Mutual Friend," strenuously
+object to being always urged forward in the path of energy.
+
+"There's nothing like work," said Mr. Boffin; "look at the bees!"
+
+"I beg your pardon," returned Eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but will
+you excuse my mentioning that I always protest against being referred
+to the bees? ... I object on principle, as a two-footed creature,
+to being constantly referred to insects and four-footed creatures.
+I object to being required to model my proceedings according to the
+proceedings of the bee, or the dog, or the spider, or the camel. I
+fully admit that the camel, for instance, is an excessively temperate
+person; but he has several stomachs to entertain himself with, and I
+have only one." ...
+
+"But," urged Mr. Boffin, "I said the bee, they work."
+
+"Yes," returned Eugene disparagingly, "they work, but don't you think
+they overdo it? They work so much more than they need--they make so
+much more than they can eat--they are so incessantly boring and buzzing
+at their one idea till Death comes upon them--that don't you think they
+overdo it?"
+
+Some time since I cut from the pages of the _St. James' Gazette_ the
+following "Cynical Song of the City," which pleasantly sets forth the
+present craze for work, and again proves, like Dickens' bee, that we
+rather overdo it:--
+
+    "Through the slush and the rain and the fog,
+      When a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom,
+    To the City we jolt and we jog
+      On foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom;
+    To labour a few years, and then have done,
+    A capital prospect at twenty-one!
+
+    There's a wife and three children to keep,
+      With chances of more in the offing;
+    We've a house at Earl's Court on the cheap,
+      And sometimes we get a day's golfing.
+    Well! sooner or later we'll have better fun;
+    The heart is still hopeful at thirty-one.
+
+    The boy's gone to college to-day,
+      The girls must have ladylike dresses;
+    Thank goodness we're able to pay--
+      The business has had its successes;
+    We must grind at the mill for the sake of our son.
+    Besides, we're still youngish at forty-one.
+
+    It has come! We've a house in the shires,
+      We're one of the land-owning gentry,
+    The children have all their desires,
+      But _we_ must do more double-entry;
+    We must keep things together, no time left for fun,
+    Ah! had we been twenty--not fifty--one!
+
+    A Baronet! J.P.! D.L.!
+      But it means harder work, little pleasure;
+    We must stick to the City as well,
+      Though we're tired and longing for leisure.
+    We shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done,
+    As rich as the Bank, though we can't chew a bun,
+    And the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won
+    At seventy--eighty--or ninety-one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Guests at Foxwold are given the opportunity, when black Monday arrives,
+of catching a most unearthly and uneasily early train, which involves
+their rising with anything but a lark, swallowing a hurried breakfast,
+a mounting into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon after eight, and
+then being puffed away through South-Eastern tunnels to the busy hum of
+those unduly busy men of whom we speak.
+
+To catch this early train, which means that you "leave the warm
+precincts of your cheerful bed, nor cast one longing lingering look
+behind," some of our friends most justly object, preferring the early
+calm, the well-considered uprisal, the dawdled breakfast, and the
+ladies' train at the maturer hour of 10.30. Our dear friend, Mr.
+Anstey Guthrie, having firmly and most wisely declined the early
+train and any consequent worm, one very chilly morn, as the early
+risers were starting for the station, appeared at his chamber window
+awfully arrayed in white, and muttering with the fervour of another
+John Bradford, "There goes Anstey Guthrie--but for the grace of God,"
+plunged back into his rapidly cooling couch, "and left the world to
+darkness and to us."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 6.
+
+    "_It's idle to repine, I know;
+    I'll tell you what I'll do instead,
+    I'll drink my arrowroot, and go
+                         To bed._"--C. S. C.
+
+
+My good and kind old friend Robert Baxter, who now rests from his
+labours, was, during his long active life in Westminster (dispensing
+law to the rich and sharing its profits with the poor), one of the most
+charitable and hospitable of men.
+
+Occasionally, however, even his goodness was taxed with such severity,
+as to somewhat try his patience.
+
+The once well-known Mrs. X---- of A----, a philanthropic but foolish
+old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited, at his house in Queen's
+Square, suffering from the first symptoms of rheumatic fever. Calmly
+establishing herself in the best guest-chamber, and surrounded by the
+necessary maid, nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind host's dwelling
+into a private hospital for many weeks. When at last she reached the
+stage of convalescence, and was allowed to take daily outings and
+airings, Mr. Baxter's capital old butler, Sage, had the privilege of
+carrying the fair but weighty invalid downstairs to the carriage, and
+upstairs to her rooms once, and often twice, a day. No small effort
+for any man's strength, however athletic he might be, and Sage, be it
+conceded, was a moderate giant.
+
+The weeks dragged themselves away, and at last the welcome date for
+a final flitting to her own home arrived. Sage felt that he had well
+earned an extraordinary douceur for all his labours, and was not
+therefore surprised when the good lady on leaving slipped into his
+willing hand a suggestive looking folded-up blue slip of paper instead
+of the more limited gold. Retiring to his pantry to satisfy his very
+natural curiosity as to the amount of the vail so fully deserved, his
+feelings may be imagined, but not described, when he found that instead
+of the expected cheque, it was what, in evangelical circles, is called
+a leaflet, bearing on its face the following appropriate and cheerful
+text: "Thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee!"
+
+Whilst upon the subject of misapplied texts, another instance, touched
+with a pleasant humour, occurs to me. Many years ago I visited for
+the first time an old friend and his wife in their pleasant country
+house. Upon being shown into what was evidently one of the best
+guest-chambers, I was intensely delighted to find over the mantelpiece
+the following framed text, in large illuminated letters: "Occupy till I
+come!" Unprepared to make so long a stay, I left on the Monday morning
+following, and have no doubt the generous invitation still remains to
+welcome the coming guest.
+
+Another story of a like nature was told us by Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and
+is therefore worth repeating. He once saw a long procession of happy
+school-children going to some feast, headed by a band of music and a
+standard-bearer. The latter was staggering beneath an immense banner,
+on which was painted the Lion of Saint Mark's, rampant, with mouth,
+teeth, and claws ready and rapacious; underneath was the singularly
+appropriate and happy legend, "Suffer little children to come unto Me."
+
+Another capital story from the same source, which time cannot wither,
+nor custom stale, is, that at some small English seaside resort a
+spirited and generous townsman has presented a number of free seats for
+the parade, each one adorned with an iron label stating that "Mr. Jones
+of this town presented these free seats for the public's use, the sea
+is his, and he made it."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 7
+
+    "_Where are my friends? I am alone;
+      No playmate shares my beaker:
+    Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,
+      And some--before the Speaker:
+    And some compose a tragedy,
+      And some compose a rondo;
+    And some draw sword for Liberty,
+      And some draw pleas for John Doe._"
+              --W. M. Praed.
+
+    "_All analysis comes late._"--Aurora Leigh.
+
+
+The difficulty which has existed since Lord Tennyson's dramatic death,
+of choosing a successor to the Laureateship, has partly arisen from
+the presence of so many minor poets, and the absence, with one
+remarkable exception, of any monarch of song.
+
+The exception is, of course, Mr. Swinburne, who stands alone as
+the greatest living master of English verse. The objections to his
+appointment may, in some eyes, have importance, but time has sobered
+his more erratic flights, leaving a large residuum of fine work, both
+in poetry and prose, which would make him a worthy successor to any of
+those gone before.
+
+Of the smaller fry, it is difficult to prophesy which will hereafter
+come to the front, and what of their work may live.
+
+As Oliver Wendell Holmes so pathetically says:--
+
+    "Deal gently with us, ye who read!
+      Our largest hope is unfulfilled;
+    The promise still outruns the deed;
+      The tower, but not the spire we build.
+
+    Our whitest pearl we never find;
+      Our ripest fruit we never reach;
+    The flowering moments of the mind,
+      Lose half their petals in our speech."
+
+The late Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith) was very unequal in all he
+produced. Perhaps the following ballad from his volume of "Selected
+Poems," published in 1894 by Longmans, is one of the best and most
+characteristic he has written:--
+
+THE WOOD DEVIL.
+
+    1.
+
+    "In the wood, where I wander'd astray,
+    Came the Devil a-talking to me,
+    O mother! mother! But why did ye tell me, and why did they say,
+    That the Devil's a horrible blackamoor? He
+    Black-faced and horrible? No, mother, no!
+    And how should a poor girl be likely to know
+    That the Devil's so gallant and gay, mother?
+    So gentle and gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!
+
+    II.
+
+    And 'Pretty one, whither away?
+    And shall I come with you?' said he.
+    O mother! mother!
+    And so winsome he was, not a word could I say,
+    And he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me,
+    And he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till I kiss'd him again,
+    And O, not till he left me I knew to my pain
+    'Twas the Devil that led me astray, mother!
+    The Devil so gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!"
+
+Mr. Edmund Gosse's work is always scholarly and well thought out,
+framed in easy, pleasant English. In some of his poems he reminds one
+of the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." His song of the "Wounded
+Gull" is very like Dr. Holmes, both in subject and treatment:--
+
+    "The children laughed, and called it tame!
+      But ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing
+    Hung by its side; the gull was lame,
+      A suffering and deserted thing.
+
+    With painful care it downward crept;
+      Its eye was on the rolling sea;
+    Close to our very feet, it stept
+      Upon the wave, and then--was free.
+
+    Right out into the east it went
+      Too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek;
+    Slowly it steered, in wonderment
+      To find its enemies so meek.
+
+    Calmly it steered, and mortal dread
+      Disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume;
+    It could but die, and being dead,
+      The open sea should be its tomb.
+
+    We watched it till we saw it float
+      Almost beyond our furthest view;
+    It flickered like a paper boat,
+      Then faded in the dazzling blue.
+
+    It could but touch an English heart
+      To find an English bird so brave;
+    Our life-blood glowed to see it start
+      Thus boldly on the leaguered wave."
+
+A few fortunate persons possess copies of Mr. Gosse's catalogue of his
+library, and it is, I rejoice to say, on the Foxwold shelves. It is a
+most charming work, reflecting on every page, by many subtle touches,
+the refined humour and wide knowledge of the collector. Mr. Austin
+Dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf as follows:--
+
+    "I doubt your painful Pedants who
+    Can read a dictionary through;
+    But he must be a dismal dog,
+    Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"
+
+Of the little mutual admiration and log-rolling society, whose
+headquarters are in Vigo Street, no serious account need be taken.
+Time will deal with these very minor poets, and whether kindly or not,
+Time will prove. They may possibly be able to await the verdict with a
+serene and confident patience--and so can we. An exception may perhaps
+be made for some of Mr. Arthur Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following
+extract will show:--
+
+    "Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
+      Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
+    Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
+      As I saw her once for a while.
+
+    Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
+      Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
+    And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
+      Out of Boccaccio's book.
+
+    There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
+      Leaning across the table, over the beer,
+    While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
+      As the midnight hour drew near.
+
+    There with the women, haggard, painted, and old,
+      One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
+    She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
+      Tale after shameless tale.
+
+    And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
+      Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
+    And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
+      Or ever the tale was done.
+
+    O my child, who wronged you first, and began
+      First the dance of death that you dance so well?
+    Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man
+      Shall answer for yours in hell."
+
+Mr. Austin Dobson and the late Mr. Locker-Lampson are perhaps the
+finest writers of _vers de Société_ since Praed; whilst in the
+broader school of humour C. S. Calverley, Mr. Dodgson (of "Alice in
+Wonderland" fame), and the late James Kenneth Stephen, stand alone and
+unchallenged; and Mr. Watson, if health serve, will go far; and so with
+some pathetic words of one of these moderns we will end this somewhat
+aimless chat:--
+
+    "My heart is dashed with cares and fears,
+      My song comes fluttering and is gone;
+    Oh, high above this home of tears,
+          Eternal joy,--sing on."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 8.
+
+    "_Punch! in the presence of the passengers._"
+
+
+Within the past year certain gentle disputes and friendly discussions
+as to the origin of _Punch_, and who its first real editor was, and
+whether or no Henry Mayhew evolved it with the help of suitable friends
+in a debtor's prison, remind us that Foxwold possesses some rather
+curious "memories" of this famous paper.
+
+These disputes should now be put to rest for ever by Mr. Spielmann's
+exhaustive "History of Mr. Punch," which, it may safely be supposed,
+appeared with some sort of authority from "Mr. Punch" himself.
+
+One of our "Odds and Ends" is a kit-kat portrait in oil of Horace
+Mayhew, "Ponny," excellent both as a likeness and a work of art,
+which should eventually find hanging space in the celebrated _Punch_
+dining-room. There is also a pencil drawing of him, in which "the
+Count," as he was called, is dressed in the smartest fashion of that
+day, and crowned with a D'Orsay hat, resplendent, original, and gay.
+
+He made a rather unhappy marriage late in his life, and found that
+habits from which he was not personally free showed themselves rather
+frequently in his wife's conduct. One day, in a state of emotion and
+whisky and water, he pressed Mark Lemon's hand, and, bursting into
+tears, murmured, "My dear friend, she drinks! she drinks!!" "All
+right," was the editor's cheery reply, "my dear boy; cheer up, so do
+you!"
+
+Near by hangs a characteristic pencil sketch of Douglas Jerrold, who,
+if small, was no hunchback (as has been lately stated), but was a
+very neatly made, active little man, with a grand head covered with a
+profusion of lightish hair, which he had a trick of throwing back, like
+a lion's mane, and a pair of bright piercing blue eyes. There is an
+engraving of a bust of him prefixed to his life (written by his son,
+Blanchard Jerrold), which well conveys the nobility of the well-set
+head. Then comes a capital drawing of Kenny Meadows in profile, and a
+thoroughly characteristic Irish phiz it is.
+
+These pencil portraits are all from the gifted hand of Mr. George
+Augustus Sala, and formerly belonged to Horace Mayhew himself. Mr.
+Sala, as is now well known by means of his autobiography, was once an
+artist and book-illustrator, and Foxwold is the proud possessor of
+the only picture in oil extant from his brush. It is called "Saturday
+Night in a Gin-Palace": it is full of a Hogarthian power, and by its
+execution, drawing, and colour shows that had Mr. Sala made painting
+his profession instead of literature, he would have gone far and fared
+well. The little picture is signed "G. A. Sala," and was found many
+years ago in an old house in Brompton, when the present owner secured
+it for a moderate sum, and then wrote to Mr. Sala asking if the picture
+was authentic. A reply was received by the next post, in the beautiful
+handwriting for which he is famous, and runs as follows:---
+
+            46 Mecklenburgh Square, W.C.,
+                _Tuesday, Twenty-fifth June 1878_.
+
+     "Dear Sir,
+
+     I beg to acknowledge receipt of your courteous and (to me)
+     singularly interesting note.
+
+     "Yes, the little old oil-picture of the 'Gin-Palace Bar' is mine
+     sure enough. I can remember it as distinctly as though it had been
+     painted yesterday. Great casks of liquor in the background; little
+     stunted figures (including one of a dustman with a shovel) in the
+     foreground. Details executed with laborious niggling minuteness;
+     but the whole work must be now dingy and faded to almost total
+     obscuration, since I remember that in painting it I only used
+     turpentine for a medium, the spirit of which must have long since
+     'flown,' and left the pigment flat or 'scaly.'
+
+     "The thing was done in Paris six-and-twenty years ago (Ap. 1852),
+     and being brought to London, was sold to the late Adolphus
+     Ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing firm of Ackermann & Co.,
+     96 Strand (premises now occupied by E. Rimmel, the perfumer), for
+     the sum of five pounds. I hope that you did not give more than
+     a few shillings for it, for it was a vile little daub. I was at
+     the time when I produced it an engraver and lithographer, and I
+     believe that Mr. Ackermann only purchased the picture with a view
+     to encourage me to 'take up' oil-painting. But I did not do so. I
+     'took up' literature instead, and a pretty market I have brought
+     my pigs to! At all events, _you_ possess the only picture in oil
+     extant from the brush of
+
+            Yours very faithfully,
+
+                George Augustus Sala."
+
+     _To_ H. N. Pym, Esq.
+
+When Mr. Sala afterwards called to see the picture, he altered his mind
+as to its being "a vile little daub," and found the colours as fresh
+and bright as when painted. We greatly value it, if only as the cause
+of a lasting friendship it started with the artist.
+
+His own portrait by Vernet, in pen and ink, now graces our little
+gallery; it is a back view, taken amidst his books, and a most
+characteristic and excellent likeness of this accomplished and
+versatile gentleman.[1]
+
+One of our guest-chambers is solemnly dedicated to the honour and glory
+of "Mr. Punch," and on its walls hang some original oil sketches by
+John Leech, drawings by Charles Keene, Mr. Harry Furniss, Randolph
+Caldecote, Mr. Bernard Partridge, Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and Mr. Du
+Maurier; whilst kindly caricatures of some of the staff, and a print of
+the celebrated dinner-table, signed by the contributors, complete the
+decoration of a very cheery little room.
+
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[1] Whilst these pages are passing through the press, George Augustus
+Sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. An
+unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles,
+physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life
+in gloom: as Mr. Bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor
+of this volume, "It is so sad when the autumn of such a life is
+tempestuous."--_December 8, 1895._
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 9
+
+    "_Then be contented. Thou hast got
+    The most of heaven in thy young lot;
+          There's sky-blue in thy cup!
+    Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast---
+    Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last,
+          A sorry breaking-up._"
+                --Thomas Hood.
+
+
+It was my good fortune some short time since to revisit that most
+educational of English towns, Bedford, and having many years ago had
+the extreme privilege of being a Bedford schoolboy, I was able to draw
+a comparison between then and now.
+
+In the good old days these admirable schools were managed in the good
+old way--plenty of classics, plenty of swishing, plenty of cricket
+and boating, and plenty of holidays. We sometimes turned out boys who
+afterwards made their mark in the big world, and the School Registers
+are proud to contain the names of such men as Burnell, the Oriental
+scholar, who out-knowledged even Sir William Jones in this respect;
+Colonel Fred. Burnaby, brave soldier and attractive travel writer;
+Inverarity, the lion-hunter and crack shot; Sir Henry Hawkins, stern
+judge and brilliant wit, and many others of like degree. Nor must we
+forgot that John Bunyan here learnt sufficient reading and writing
+to enable him in after years to pen his marvellous Book during his
+imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, which was then situated midway on the
+bridge over the river Ouse.
+
+In that wonderful monument to the courage and enterprise of Mr. George
+Smith (kindest of friends and best of publishers), "The National
+Dictionary of Biography," the record is frequent of men who owed their
+education and perhaps best chance in the life they afterwards made a
+success, to Bedford School, but,--
+
+    "Long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted,
+      As when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred,
+    Yet still with their music is memory haunted,
+      And oft in my dreams are their melodies heard."
+
+But if the good old School was a success in those bygone days, what
+must be said for it now, when, under the Napoleon-like administration
+of its present chief, the school-house has been rebuilt in its own
+park, upon all the best and latest known principles of comfort and
+sanitation, where a boy can, besides going through the full round
+of usual study, follow the bent of his own peculiar taste, and find
+special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing or music, chemistry
+or wood-carving, ambulance work or drawing from the figure; whilst the
+beautiful river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields and football
+yards are crowded, and the bathing stations are a constant joy?
+
+Truly the present generation of Bedford boys are much blessed in
+their surroundings; and whilst they remember with gratitude the pious
+founder, Sir William Harper, should strive to do credit to his name and
+memory by the exercise of their powers in the battle of after-life,
+having received so thorough and broad-minded a training in the happy
+and receptive days of their youth.
+
+Bedford town is now one of the most strikingly attractive in England,
+with its fine river embankment, its grand old churches, its statues
+erected to the memory of the "inspired tinker," Bunyan, and the prison
+philanthropist, Howard, both of whom lived about a mile or so from
+the town, the former at Elstow, the latter at Cardington. It was very
+good and heart-restoring to revisit the hospitable old school with its
+pleasant surroundings and to find, as Robert Louis Stevenson says,
+that,--
+
+    "Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,
+      Heroes and soldiers they all shall come home;
+    Still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,
+      Turning and churning that river to foam."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Since printing our last little "Tour Round the Bookshelves," in
+which we ventured to include some capital lines by our evergreen and
+many-sided friend Rudolf Chambers Lehmann, he has again added to the
+interest of our Visitors' Book under the following circumstances.
+Guests and home-birds were all resting after the exhausting idleness
+of an Easter holiday when they were suddenly aroused from their
+day-dreams by loud cries of "Fire!" accompanied by the sound of horses
+and chariots approaching the house at full speed. On looking out, like
+Sister Anne or a pretty page, we were able to assuage our guests'
+natural alarm by explaining that the local fire brigade were practising
+upon our vile bodies and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger did not.
+On their ultimately retiring, satisfied with their mock efforts, and
+fortified by beer, our welcome guest wrote with his usual flying pen
+the following characteristic lines to commemorate their visit:--
+
+     "FIRE! FIRE!!"
+
+     (AN EASTER MONDAY INCIDENT.)
+
+    "A day of days, an April day;
+      Cool air without, and cloudless sun;
+    Within, upon the ordered tray,
+      Cakes, and the luscious Sally-Lunn.
+    Since Pym has walked, and Guthrie climbed
+      To rob some feathered songster's nest,
+    Their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed--
+      Pour, lady, pour, and let them rest.
+
+    But hark! what sound disturbs their tea,
+      And clatters up the carriage drive?
+    A dinner guest? it cannot be;
+      No, no, the hour is only five.
+    What sight is this the fates disclose,
+      That breaks upon our startled view?
+    Two horses, countless yards of hose,
+      Nine firemen, and an engine too.
+
+    Where burns the fire? Tush, 'tis but sport;
+      The horses stop, the men descend,
+    Take hoses long, and hoses short,
+      And fit them deftly end to end.
+    Attention! lo their chieftain calls--
+      They run, they answer to their names,
+    And hypothetic water falls
+      In streams upon imagined flames.
+
+    Well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done;
+      Accept, the peril past, our thanks;
+    Though all your toil was only fun,
+      And air was all that filled your tanks:
+    No, not for nought you came and dared,
+      Return in peace, and drink your fill;
+    It was, as Mrs. Pym declared,
+      'A highly interesting drill.'"
+
+    _April 3, 1893._
+
+Another poet whose pen sometimes gilds our modest Record of Angels'
+Visits, is a well-beloved cousin, Harry Luxmoore by name, at Eton known
+so well. His Christmas greeting for 1890 shall here appear, and prove
+to him how deep is Foxwold's affectionate obligation for wishes so
+delightfully expressed:--
+
+    "Glooms overhead a frozen sky,
+      Rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth,
+    Yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie,
+      And somewhere sleeps the coming birth.
+
+    Folded in root and grain is lying,
+      The bud, the bloom we soon may see,
+    And in the old year now a-dying
+      Is hid the new year that shall be.
+
+    O what if snows be deep? so shrouded
+      Matures the soil with promise rife
+    And sap, for all the skies be clouded,
+      Ripens at heart a lustier life.
+
+    Then welcome winter--while we shiver
+      Strength harbours deeper, and the blast
+    Of sounder, manlier force the giver
+      Strips off betimes our withered past.
+
+    Come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower,
+      Come weal, come woe, as best may be,
+    Still may the New Year's hidden dower
+      Be good for you and Horace, and all the little
+           ones, and good for me."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 10.
+
+    "_My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd:
+    Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+The following graphic account of the rising in Paris in 1848 was
+written by John Poole to Charles Dickens, and was recently found
+amongst the papers of Mrs. John Forster, the widow of the well-known
+writer, Dickens' friend and biographer, and is, I think, worthy of
+print.
+
+John Poole was a sometime celebrated character, having written that
+evergreen play "Paul Pry," as well as "Little Pedlington," and other
+humorous works mostly now forgotten.
+
+As he grew old poverty came to bear him company, and was only prevented
+from causing him actual suffering by the usual generosity of Dickens
+and other members of that charmed circle, further aided by a small
+Government grant, obtained for him by the same faithful friend from
+Lord John Russell.
+
+The letter is addressed to
+
+  CHARLES DICKENS, Esq.,
+    No. 1 Devonshire Terrace,
+      York Gate, Regent's Park,
+          LONDON,
+
+and deals with the celebrated uprisal of the French mob, when a force
+of 75,000 regulars and nearly 200,000 National Guards was massed round
+Paris to resist it. The carnage was terrible, some 8000 persons being
+killed on both sides, and 14,000 insurgents made prisoners.
+
+It was only by General Cavaignac's firmness and tactful management
+under Lamartine's directions, that the mob was reduced and the
+Republican Government established. The general was afterwards nearly
+elected President of the French Republic, receiving 1,448,000 votes,
+but Prince Louis Napoleon beat him, and, as history tells, held the
+reins in various capacities for the next twenty eventful years.
+
+Poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness, gives a remarkably clear
+impression of the scene as it appeared in his orbit. Dickens, on
+receiving it, evidently sent it the round of his friends, and it then
+remained in John Forster's possession until his death.
+
+            "(Paris), _Saturday, 8 Jul 1848_.
+
+     "My dear Dickens,
+
+     I wrote to you through the Embassy on the 22nd June, giving you an
+     address for the three last Dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue of
+     the ex-King's wine; and on the 16th I sent you a word in a letter
+     to Macready. Dombeys not yet arrived, and I shall wait no longer
+     to acknowledge their arrival (as I have been doing), but at once
+     proceed to give you a few lines. Since the day of my writing to
+     you I have lived four years: Friday (the 23rd), Saturday, Sunday,
+     Monday, each a year.
+
+     "The proceedings of the three days of February were mere
+     child's-play compared with these. Never shall I forget them, for
+     they showed me scenes of blood and death. Friday morning the
+     '_rappel_' was beat--always a disagreeable hint. Presently I
+     heard discharges of musketry, then they beat the '_générale._' My
+     _concierge_ ran into my room, and, with a long white face, told me
+     the mob had erected huge barricades in the Faubourg-Saint-Denis,
+     and above, down to the Porte St. Denis, and that tremendous
+     fighting was going on there. (The Porte St. Denis bears marks of
+     the fray.) 'Then, Madame Blanchard,' I said, 'as you seem to be
+     breaking out again, I shall take a _sac-de-nuit_, and say adieu to
+     you till you shall have returned to your good behaviour.'--'But
+     monsieur could not get away for love or money--the insurgents have
+     possession of the Chemin de Fer, and had torn up the rails as far
+     as St. Denis.' This was what she had been told, so I went out to
+     ascertain the fact.
+
+     "Impossible to approach that quarter, and difficult to turn the
+     corner of a street without interruption--groups of fifteen,
+     twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all about. Towards
+     evening matters seemed rather more tranquil, and between six and
+     seven o'clock I contrived (though not easily) to make my way
+     to Sestels, in the Rue St. Honoré (one of the very best of the
+     second-rate restaurateurs in Paris, 'which note'). The large
+     saloon was filled with men in uniform, National Guards chiefly,
+     and only two women there. I was there about an hour, and in that
+     time three dead bodies were carried past on covered litters. It
+     was thought the disturbances were pretty well over, as a powerful
+     body of troops had been ordered down to the scene of action.
+
+     "At about eight o'clock I went out for the purpose of making
+     a visit in the Rue d'Enghien, but found the whole width of
+     the Boulevard Montmartre, which, as you know, leads to the
+     Boulevard St. Denis, defended by a compact body of National
+     Guards--impassable! Between nine and ten o'clock three regiments
+     of cavalry, with cannon--a long, long procession--marched in the
+     direction of the scene of insurrection. This was a comforting
+     sight, and as such everybody seemed to consider it, and I went
+     home. And this was Midsummer Eve!--Walpurgis Night!
+
+     "The next day, Saturday, Midsummer Day, I never shall forget!
+     Sleep had been hopeless--the night had been disturbed by the
+     frequent beating of the '_générale_' and the cry '_Aux Armes!_'
+     Every now and then I looked up at the sky, expecting to see it
+     red from some direful conflagration. Day came, and soon the
+     firing of musketry was heard, now from the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine, now from the Faubourg-Saint-Marceaux.
+     Then came the heavy booming of cannon--death in every echo! From
+     twelve till nearly one, and again after a pause, it was dreadful.
+     (I cannot make 'fun' of this, like the facetious correspondent of
+     the _Morning Post_. Who is he? Surely he must be an ex-reporter
+     for the Cobourg Play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house
+     quotations. I am utterly disgusted and revolted at the tasteless
+     levity with which he describes scenes of blood and destruction and
+     death, and so treats of matters, all of which require grave and
+     sober handling. And then he describes, as an eye-witness, things
+     which, happen though they did, I am certain he could not have been
+     present to see.)
+
+     "Well, as we were soon to be in a state of siege, and strictly
+     confined to home, I can tell you nothing but what I saw here on
+     this very spot. One event is a remembrance for life. In this
+     house lived General de Bourgon, one of what they call the 'old
+     Africans.' In the course of the morning General Korte (another
+     of them) called on him, and said, 'I dare say Cavaignac has
+     plenty to do. I will go and ask him if we can be of any service
+     to him. If we can, I will send for you, so keep yourself in the
+     way.' He was in Paris 'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so
+     he sent Blanchard (the _concierge_) to the _manège_, which is in
+     the next street, to inquire whether they had a horse that would
+     'stand fire.' Yes; but they would not let it go out. The next
+     message intimated that they must send it, or it would be taken by
+     force. At about two o'clock, going out, I met, coming out of his
+     apartments on the second floor (I, you know, am on the fourth),
+     General de Bourgon, in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and
+     his sister-in-law--the latter a very beautiful woman, somewhat in
+     the style of Mrs. Norton. As usual, we exchanged _bon-jours_ in
+     passing. I went as far as the boulevard at the end of the street.
+     There was a strong guard at the 'Hôtel des Affaires Étrangères,'
+     and there I was stopped. An officer of the National Guard asked
+     me whether I was proceeding in the direction of my residence.
+     Answering in the negative, he said (but with great courtesy),
+     'Then, sir, I advise you to return; it is in your interest I do
+     so; besides' (pointing in the direction where was heard a heavy
+     firing), 'd'ailleurs, monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour
+     de promenade.'
+
+     "I returned, and tried by the Place Vendôme, but about half-way
+     up the Rue de la Paix was again stopped. After loitering about
+     for an hour, and unable to get anything in the shape of positive
+     information, I returned home. Shortly after three I saw the
+     General de Bourgon in full uniform, and on horseback. He proceeded
+     a few paces, stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers adjusted,
+     and then, followed by an orderly, went off at a brisk trot. Soon
+     afterwards a guard was placed in the middle and at each end of
+     this street; no one was allowed to loiter, or to quit it but with
+     good reason, and only then was passed on by one sentinel to the
+     next, so from that moment I was not out of the house till Monday
+     morning.
+
+     "At about half-past six the street--usually a noisy one--being
+     perfectly still, I heard the measured tramp of feet approaching
+     from the direction of the boulevard. I went to the window, and saw
+     about fifteen or eighteen soldiers, some bearing, and the rest
+     guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a wounded officer.
+     He was bare-headed, his black stock had been removed, his coat
+     thrown wide open, and over his left thigh was spread a soldier's
+     grey greatcoat. To my horror the procession stopped at this door.
+     It was the General brought home desperately wounded! I ran down
+     and saw him brought up to his apartment, crying out with agony at
+     every shake he received on the winding, slippery staircase. On
+     the following Friday (the 30th), at eleven o'clock at noon, after
+     severe suffering, he died. In the course of the day I saw him; his
+     neck was uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had been making
+     a sketch of him)--he looked like one in placid contemplation.
+     Previously to the fatal result, at one of my frequent visits of
+     inquiry, I saw Madame de Bourgon (the sister-in-law). She replied
+     mournfully, but without apparent emotion, 'We are in hopes they
+     will be able to perform the amputation to-morrow.' (They could
+     not.) 'But see! he has passed his life, as it were, on the field
+     of battle--twelve years in Africa--and to fall in this way! But it
+     was his duty to go out.'
+
+     "'And, madame, how is she?'
+
+     "'Eh, mon Dieu, monsieur! how would you have her be? But a
+     soldier's wife must be prepared for these things.'
+
+     "(She, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the general's brother,
+     Colonel de Bourgon.) His friend, General Korte, too, was wounded,
+     but not dangerously.
+
+     "In all the African campaigns only two generals were killed, in
+     these street fights six! But the insurgents fought at tremendous
+     advantage. On that said Saturday afternoon two incidents occurred,
+     trifling if you will, but they struck me. A large flight of crows
+     passed over, taking a direction towards the prison of St. Lazare,
+     showing that fighting was murderous; and a rainbow (one of the
+     most beautiful I ever saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof
+     of the opposite houses. Beneath it seemed to come the noise of the
+     fight; the sign of peace and the sounds of war and death. Mrs.
+     Norton could make a verse or two out of this. This was Midsummer's
+     Day!
+
+     "Our Midsummer Night's dreams were not pleasant, believe me.
+     No--there was no sleep on that night--a night of terrible
+     anxiety. Paris was in a state of siege--no one allowed to be
+     out of the house, nor a window permitted to be opened. All
+     night was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel under my
+     very window--'Sentinelle prenez garde à vous.' I can hardly
+     describe by words the peculiar tone in which this was uttered,
+     but the syllable 'nelle' was accented, and the word 'vous' was
+     uttered briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark. This was
+     given _fortissimo_--repeated by the next _forte_--beyond him,
+     _piano_--further on, _pianissimo_--till it returned, louder
+     and louder, and then died away again, and so on, and on, and
+     on till daybreak. Then was beat the '_rappel_'--then the
+     '_générale_'--then again the firing.
+
+     "This was Sunday morning, and from five o'clock till ten at
+     night was not the happiest, but the longest day of my life. Any
+     sort of occupation was out of the question. Each hour appeared a
+     day. Impossible to get out, or to receive a visit, or to send a
+     message, or to procure any reliable information as to what was
+     going on, or how or when these doings were likely to end. All
+     was doubt, uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable. The only
+     information to be procured was from the bearers of some wounded
+     men as they passed now and then to the Ambulance (the temporary
+     hospital established at the Church of the Assumption). But no two
+     accounts were alike. I was suffering deep anxiety concerning a
+     good kind French family of my acquaintance, living within a five
+     minutes' walk of this place. 'Could I by any possibility procure a
+     commissionaire to carry a note for me? I'll give him five francs
+     (the hire being ten sous).' 'Not, sir,' said my _concierge_, 'if
+     you would give a hundred!' The poor general wanted some soldiers
+     from the barracks (next to the Assumption) to carry an order
+     for him. After great difficulty the wife of the _concierge_ was
+     allowed to go and fetch one; but she was searched for ammunition
+     by the first sentinel, and then passed on thus and back again
+     from one to another. No post in--no letters--no newspapers.
+     At length, at a month's end, night came. That night like the
+     last--'Sentinelle prenez garde à vous,' &c. &c.
+
+     "On Monday morning (26th), after a sleepless night--for, for any
+     means we had of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents might at
+     any moment be expected to attack this quarter, a quarter marked
+     down by them for fire and pillage--at about eight o'clock, I
+     lay down on a sofa and slept soundly till ten; I awoke, and was
+     struck by the appalling silence! This is a noisy street. Always
+     from about seven in the morning till late in the day one's head
+     is distracted by the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these
+     are now added the cries of the vendors of cheap newspapers),
+     the passage of carriages and carts of all descriptions,
+     street-singers, organ-grinders endless, the screeching of parrots
+     and barking of dogs exposed for sale by a _grocer_ on the
+     opposite side of the way, together with the swarming of his and
+     his neighbour's dirty children--all was hushed; not a footfall,
+     'not (a line that is not often applicable here) a drum was
+     heard.' Yes, I repeat it, this universal silence was appalling!
+     Not a person, save the still guards on duty, was to be seen. The
+     shops were all closed, and, but for this circumstance, it seemed
+     like a Sunday! Strange! (and I find it was the same with many
+     other persons to whom I have mentioned the circumstance) I was
+     uncertain during these anxious days as to the day of the week.
+     At about eleven o'clock the _concierge_ came to tell me that the
+     insurrection was at an end. In less than an hour there was heard
+     a sharp fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The insurgents had strengthened themselves
+     at that point (she came to say), but that, so far as she could
+     learn, General Cavaignac had at length resolved, by bombarding the
+     _quartier_, to suppress the insurrection before the day should
+     end. _And he did!_
+
+     "Frequently during the day parties of tired soldiers, scarcely
+     able to walk, passed on their way from the scene of action to
+     their barracks or their bivouac; wounded men were every now and
+     then brought to the Ambulance close by--one a Cuirassier, who, as
+     the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and just raised his hand
+     in sign of recognition, which fell again at his side; and, most
+     striking of all, bands of prisoners from among the insurgents!!
+     Among them such hideous faces! scarcely human! No one knows whence
+     they come. Like the stormy petrel, they only are seen in troubled
+     times. I saw some such in the days of February, but never before,
+     nor afterwards, till now. Imagine O. Smith, well "made-up"
+     for one of the bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody
+     melodramas--a Parisian dandy compared with some of these. Some of
+     them naked to the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard matted
+     and of incalculable growth, bloodshot eyes, scowling ferocious
+     brutes, their tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder--creatures
+     to look at and shudder! And into their hands was Paris and its
+     peaceable honest inhabitants threatened to fall. With this I end.
+
+     Ever, my dear Dickens,
+
+        Cordially and sincerely yours,
+
+              John Poole.
+
+     "I began this on Saturday, and have been writing it, as best as I
+     can, till now, Tuesday, three o'clock. Pray acknowledge the receipt
+     when or if you receive it. This is a general letter to you all. If
+     Forster thinks any paragraph of this worthy the _Examiner_, he may
+     use it. Why does not the rogue write to me? Has he, or can he have,
+     taken huff at anything? though I cannot imagine why or at what. But
+     _nobody_ writes to me. I can and will, some day, tell you a comic
+     incident connected with all this, but it would not have been in
+     keeping with the rest of this letter. Paris is now quiet, but very
+     dull."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 11.
+
+    "_All round the house is the jet black night;
+      It stares through the window-pane;
+    It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
+      And it moves with the moving flame._
+
+    _Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,
+      With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;
+    And all round the candle the crooked shadows come
+      And go marching along up the stair._
+
+    _The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,
+      The shadow of the child that goes to bed--
+    All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
+      With the black night overhead._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+On the beautiful rocks of Red Head, near Arbroath, and surrounded by
+the glamour of Sir Walter Scott's "Antiquary," which was written in
+the alongside village of Auchmithie, and the plot and incidents of
+which are principally placed here, stands Ethie Castle, the Scotch
+home of the Earls of Northesk, and once one of the many residences of
+Cardinal Beaton, whose portrait by Titian hangs in the hall.
+
+Many of the quaint old rooms have secret staircases at the bed-heads
+leading to rooms above or below, and forming convenient modes of
+escape if the occupants of the middle chambers were threatened with
+sudden attack. There are also some dungeon-like rooms below, with
+walls of vast thickness, and "squints" through which to fire arrows
+or musket-balls. The castle has been greatly improved and partly
+restored by its last owner, without removing or destroying any of its
+characteristic points.
+
+Searching, when a guest there some years ago, amongst the literary and
+other curious remains, which add a great charm to this most interesting
+house, the writer was impressed with the following characteristic
+letter from Charles II. to the then Lord Northesk, which he was
+permitted to copy, and now to print. The letter is curious, as showing
+the evident belief that the King held in his Divine right to interfere
+with his subjects' affairs.
+
+It is a holograph, beautifully written in a small clear hand --- not
+unlike that of W. M. Thackeray --- and has been fastened with a seal,
+still unbroken, no larger than a pea, but which nevertheless contains
+the crown and complete royal arms, and is a most beautiful specimen
+of seal-engraving. It would be interesting to know if this seal still
+exists amongst the curiosities at Windsor Castle:---
+
+            Whitehall, _20 Nov. 1672_.
+
+     "My Lord Northesk,
+
+     I am so much concerned in my L^d Balcarriess that, hearing he
+     is in suite of one of your daughters, I must lett you know, you
+     cannot bestow her upon a person of whose worth and fidelity I
+     have a better esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend to you
+     and your Lady, your franck compliance with his designe, and as I
+     do realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to do him good as
+     occasion offers, as well for his father's sake as his owne, so if
+     you and your Lady condescend to his pretension, and use him kindly
+     in it, I shall take it very kindly at your hands, and reckon it to
+     be done upon the accounte of
+
+     Your affectionate frinde,
+
+              Charles R."
+
+     _For the_ Earle of Northesk.
+
+
+Looking at the fine portrait of the recipient of this royal request,
+which hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting expression of
+the otherwise handsome face, it is not difficult to presume that he
+somewhat resented this interference with his domestic plans. No copy of
+Lord Northesk's reply exists, but its contents may be guessed by the
+second letter from Whitehall, this time written by Lord Lauderdale:--
+
+            Whitehall, _18 Jany. 1673_.
+
+     "My Lord,
+
+     Yesterday I received yours of the 7th instant, and, according to
+     your desire, I acquainted the King with it. His Majesty commanded
+     me to signify to you that he is satisfied. For as he did recommend
+     that marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to both parties,
+     so he did not intend to lay any constraint upon you. Therfor he
+     leaves you to dispose of your daughter as you please. This is by
+     His Majesty's command signified to your Lordship by,
+
+        My Lord,
+
+     Your Lordship's most humble servant,
+
+              Lauderdale."
+
+     Earl Northesk.
+
+As, however, the marriage eventually did take place, let us hope that
+the young couple arranged it themselves, without any further expression
+of Royal wishes by the evidently well-meaning, if somewhat imperative,
+King.
+
+Ethie has, of course, its family legends and ghosts--what old Scotch
+house is without them?--but the following, which I am most kindly
+permitted to repeat, is so curious in its modern confirmation, that it
+is well worth adding to the store of such weird narratives.
+
+Many years ago, it is said that a lady in the castle destroyed her
+young child in one of the rooms, which afterwards bore the stigma of
+the association. Eventually the room was closed, the door screwed up,
+and heavy wooden shutters were fastened outside the windows. But those
+who occupied the rooms above and below this gruesome chamber would
+often hear, in the watches of the night, the pattering of little feet
+over the floor, and the sound of the little wheels of a child's cart
+being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity connected with this sound
+being, that one wheel creaked and chirruped as it moved. Years rolled
+by, and the room continued to bear its sinister character until the
+late Lord Northesk succeeded to the property, when he very wisely
+determined to bring, if possible, the legend to an end, and probe the
+ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious base.
+
+Consequently he had the outside window shutters removed, and the
+heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then, with some members of his family
+present, ordered the door to be forced back. When the room was open
+and birds began to sing, it proved to be quite destitute of furniture
+or ornament. It had a bare hearth-stone, on which some grey ashes still
+rested, and by the side of the hearth was a child's little wooden
+go-cart on four solid wooden wheels!
+
+Turning to his daughter, my lord asked her to wheel the little carriage
+across the floor of the room. When she did so, it was with a strange
+sense of something uncanny that the listeners heard one wheel creak and
+chirrup as it ran!
+
+Since then the baby footsteps have ceased, and the room is once more
+devoted to ordinary uses, but the ghostly little go-cart still rests at
+Ethie for the curious to see and to handle. Many friends and neighbours
+yet live who testify to having heard the patter of the feet and the
+creak of the little wheel in former days, when the room was a haunted
+reality, but now the
+
+    "Little feet no more go lightly,
+                      Vision broken!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 12
+
+                                    "_I work on,
+    Through all the bristling fence of nights and days,
+    Which hedge time in from the eternities._"
+              --Mrs. Browning.
+
+
+The late Cardinal Manning always felt a great interest in our parish of
+Brasted. In former times it formed part of Hever Chase, the property
+of Sir Thomas Boleyn (the father of Queen Anne Boleyn), who lived at
+Hever Castle, about four miles from Brasted, a fine Tudor specimen of
+domestic architecture, which is now somewhat jealously shown to the
+public on certain days. Hever Castle is the original of Bovor Castle,
+immortalised by Mr. Burnand in his wonderful "Happy Thoughts."
+
+The Cardinal's father, who was at one time an opulent city merchant,
+and sometime Governor of the Bank of England, owned the estate of
+Combe Bank, formerly the English location of the Argyll family, whose
+Duke sat in the House of Lords, until quite a recent date, as Baron
+Sundridge, the name of the adjacent village.
+
+In Sundridge Church are some family busts of the Argylls by Mrs. Dawson
+Damer, who stayed much at Combe Bank, and who lies buried with all her
+graving and sculpting tools in Sundridge churchyard.
+
+The Cardinal and his elder brother, Charles Manning, passed some
+youthful years in this house, and when financial trouble overtook
+their father, and he was obliged to part with the property, it became
+the ever-present desire and day-dream of the elder son to succeed in
+life and repurchase the place. He succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a
+very long and happy one; but he never became the owner of Combe Bank,
+the hope to do so only fading with his life.
+
+He owned, or leased, a pleasant old house at Littlehampton; and if
+his brother, the Cardinal, was in need of rest, he would lend it to
+him, when the Cardinal's method of relaxation was to go to bed in a
+sea-looking room, and, with window open, read, write, and contemplate
+for some three or four days and nights, and then arise refreshed like a
+giant, and return to the manifold duties waiting for him in town.
+
+The Cardinal's home in London was formerly the Guard's Institute in
+the Vauxhall Bridge Road, which, failing in its first intention, was
+purchased as the palace for the then newly-elected Cardinal-Archbishop
+of Westminster. It proved to be rather a dreary, draughty,
+uncomfortable abode, but having the advantage of a double staircase and
+some large reception rooms, was useful for the clerical assemblies he
+used to invoke.
+
+I had the privilege, without being a member of his church, of being
+allowed to attend the meetings of the _Academia_ which the Cardinal
+held every now and then during the London season. His friends would
+gather in one of the big rooms a little before eight in the evening,
+and sit in darkened circles around a small centre table, before which
+a high-backed carved chair stood. The entire light for the apartment
+proceeded from two big silver candlesticks on the table. As the clock
+chimed eight, the Cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and skull-cap,
+would glide into the room, and standing before the episcopal chair,
+murmur a short Latin prayer, after which the discussion of the evening
+would begin; when all that wished had had their little say, the
+Cardinal replied to the points raised by the various speakers, and
+closed the debate; after which he held a sort of informal reception,
+welcoming individually every guest.
+
+No one but a Rembrandt could give the beautiful effect of the
+half-lights and heavy black shadows of this striking gathering, with
+its centre of colour and light in the tall red figure of the Cardinal,
+his noble face and picturesque dress forming a mind-picture which can
+never fade from the memory. The strong theatrical effect, combined
+with the real simplicity of the scene, the personal interest of many of
+those who took part in the discussion, the associations with the past,
+the speculation whither the innovation of the installation of a Roman
+Catholic Archbishop in Westminster was tending, giving the observer
+bountiful food for much solemn thought.
+
+Upon our book-shelves repose four volumes of the Cardinal's sermons,
+preached when a member of the Church of England, and Archdeacon of
+Chichester. They were bought at Bishop Wilberforce's sale, who was
+the Cardinal's brother-in-law, and contain the autograph of William
+Wilberforce, the bishop's eldest brother. Upon the same shelf will
+be found a copy of "Parochial Sermons" by John Henry Newman, Vicar
+of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford. This volume formerly belonged to
+Bishop Stanley, and came from the library of his celebrated son, Arthur
+Penrhyn Stanley, sometime Dean of Westminster.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A good book might be written by one who is duly qualified on "the Poets
+who are not read." It would not be flattering to the ghosts of many
+of the departed great, but there is so much assumption on the part of
+the general reader, that he knows them all, has read them all, and
+generally likes them all, which if examined into closely would prove
+a snare and a delusion, that one is tempted to administer some gentle
+interrogatories upon the subject. First and foremost, then, who now
+reads Byron? His works rest on the shelves, it is true, but are they
+ever opened, except to verify a quotation? Does the general reader
+of this time steadily go through "Childe Harold," "Don Juan," and
+his other splendid works. Not death but sleep prevails, from which
+perchance one day he may awake and again enjoy his share of fame and
+favour. It is the fashion with many persons to express the utmost
+sympathy with and acute knowledge of the work of Robert Browning, but
+we doubt if many of these could pass a Civil Service examination in the
+very poems they name so glibly. He is so hard to understand without
+time and close study, that few have the inclination to give either in
+these days of pressure, worry, and rush.
+
+Upon neglected shelves Cowper and Crabbe lie dusty and unopened--the
+only person who read Crabbe in these days was the late Edward
+FitzGerald; and it is a small class apart that still looks up to
+Wordsworth. The stars of Keats and Shelley, it is true, are just now in
+the ascendant, and may so remain for a little while.
+
+It is difficult and dangerous, we are told, to prophesy unless we know,
+but our private opinion is that Lord Tennyson's fame has been declining
+since his death, and that a large portion of his poems and all his
+plays will die, leaving a living residuum of such splendid work as
+"Maud," "In Memoriam," and some of his short poems.
+
+America has furnished us with Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose charm
+and finish is likely to continue its hold upon our imagination;
+then there is the Quaker poet Whittier, who will probably only live
+in a song or two; and Longfellow, whose popularity has a long time
+since declined. He once wrote a sort of novel or romance called
+"Hyperion," which showed his reading public for the first time that he
+was possessed of a gentle humour, which does not often appear in his
+poems. For instance, one of his characters, by name Berkley, wishing to
+console a jilted lover, says--
+
+"'I was once as desperately in love as you are now; I adored, and was
+rejected.'
+
+"'You are in love with certain attributes,' said the lady.
+
+"'Damn your attributes, madam,' said I; 'I know nothing of attributes.'
+
+"'Sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you have been drinking.'
+
+"So we parted. She was married afterwards to another, who knew
+something about attributes, I suppose. I have seen her once since, and
+only once. She had a baby in a yellow gown. I hate a baby in a yellow
+gown. How glad I am she did not marry me."
+
+The fate of most poets is to be cut up for Dictionaries of Quotations,
+for which amiable purpose they are often admirably adapted.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 13.
+
+    _"She will return, I know she will,
+    She will not leave me here alone._"
+
+
+Staying many years ago in a pleasant country-house, whilst walking home
+after evening church my host remarked, as we passed in the growing
+darkness a house from which streamed a light down the path from the
+front door, "Ah! Jane has not yet returned." The phrase sounded odd,
+and when we were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room, he that evening
+told me the following story, which, however, then stopped midway, but
+to which I am now able to add the sequel.
+
+A certain John Manson (the name is, of course, fictitious), an elderly
+wealthy City bachelor, married late in life a young girl of great
+beauty, and with no friends or relations.
+
+She found her husband's country home, in which she was necessarily much
+alone, very dull, and she thought that he was hard and unsympathising
+when he was at home; whereas, although a curt, reserved manner gave
+this impression, he was really full of love for, and confidence in his
+young wife, and inwardly chafed at and deplored his want of power to
+show what his real feelings were.
+
+The misunderstanding between them grew and widened, like the poetical
+"rift within the lute," and soon after the birth of her child, a girl,
+she left her home with her baby, merely leaving a few lines of curt
+farewell, and was henceforth lost to him. His belief in her honesty
+never wavered; and night after night, with his own hand, he lighted and
+placed in a certain hall-window a lamp which thus illuminated the path
+to the door, saying, "Jane will return, poor dear; and it's sure to be
+at night, and she'll like to see the light."
+
+Years passed by, and Jane made no sign, the light each evening shining
+uselessly; and still a stranger to her home, she died, leaving her
+daughter, now a beautiful girl of twenty, and marvellously like what
+her mother was when she married.
+
+The husband, unaware of the death of his wife, himself came to lay
+him for the last beneath his own roof-tree, and still his one cry
+was, "Jane will return." It seemed as if he could not pass in peace
+from this world's rack until it was accomplished--when, lo! a miracle
+came to pass; for the daughter arrived one evening with a letter from
+her mother, written when she was dying, and asking her husband's
+forgiveness, and the light still beamed from the beacon window.
+
+The old man was only semi-conscious, and mistaking his child for her
+mother, with a strong voice cried out, "I knew you'd come back," and
+died in the moment of the joy of her supposed return.
+
+By a curious coincidence, since writing this true story, which was
+told to me in 1865, some of the incidents, in an altered form, have
+found a place in Mr. Ian Maclaren's popular book, "Beside the Bonnie
+Brier Bush." It would be interesting to know from whence he drew his
+inspiration, and whether his story should perchance trace back to a
+common ancestor in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few years ago Mr. Walter Hamilton published, in six volumes, the most
+complete collection of English parodies ever brought together. Amongst
+others, he gave a vast number upon the well-known poem by Charles Wolfe
+of "Not a drum was heard." Page after page is covered with them, upon
+every possible subject; but the following one, written by an "American
+cousin" many years ago, and which was not accessible to Mr. Hamilton,
+is perhaps worth repeating and preserving. He called it "The Mosquito
+Hunt," and it runs as follows, if my memory serves me faithfully, I
+having no written note of it:--
+
+    "Not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum,
+      As around our chamber we hurried,
+    In search of the insect whose trumpet and drum
+      Our delectable slumber had worried.
+
+    We sought for him darkly at dead of night,
+      Our coverlet carefully turning,
+    By the shine of the moonbeam's misty light,
+      And our candle dimly burning.
+
+    About an hour had seemed to elapse,
+      Ere we met with the wretch that had bit us;
+    And raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps,
+      Which made the mosquito's quietus.
+
+    Quickly and gladly we turned from the dead,
+      And left him all smash'd and gory;
+    We blew out the candle, and popped into bed,
+      And determined to tell you the story!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 14.
+
+    "_The welcome news is in the letter found,
+    The carrier's not commissioned to expound:
+    It speaks itself._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+A pleasant hour may perhaps be passed in searching through the
+family autograph-box in the book-room. Its contents are varied and
+far-fetched. A capital series of letters from that best and most genial
+of correspondents, James Payn, are there to puzzle, by their very
+difficult calligraphy, the would-be reader. Mr. Payn, a dear friend
+to Foxwold, is now a great invalid, and a brave sufferer, keeping,
+despite his pain, the same bright spirit, the same brilliant wit,
+and delighting with the same enchanting conversation. Out of all his
+work, there is nothing so beautiful as his lay-sermons, published in
+a small volume called "Some Private Views;" and but a little while
+since he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most affecting study, called
+"The Backwater of Life;" it has only up to the present time appeared
+in the _Cornhill Magazine_, but will doubtless be soon collected with
+other work in a more permanent form. It is a pathetic picture of how
+suffering may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and courage.
+
+As Mr. Leslie Stephen well says in his brother's life, "For such
+literature the British public has shown a considerable avidity ever
+since the days of Addison. In spite of occasional disavowals, it
+really loves a sermon, and is glad to hear preachers who are not bound
+by the proprieties of the religious pulpit. Some essayists, like
+Johnson, have been as solemn as the true clerical performer, and some
+have diverged into the humorous with Charles Lamb, or the cynical with
+Hazlitt."[2]
+
+In Mr. Payn's lay-sermons we have the humour and the pathos, the tears
+being very close to the laughter; and they reflect in a peculiarly
+strong manner the tender wit and delicate fancy of their author.
+
+But to return to our autograph-box. Here we find letters from such
+varied authors as Josef Israels, the Dutch painter, Hubert Herkomer, W.
+B. Richmond, Mrs. Carlyle, Wilkie Collins, Dean Stanley, and a host of
+other interesting people. Perhaps a few extracts, where judicious and
+inoffensive, may give an interest to this especial chat.
+
+The late Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah was in herself, both socially and
+intellectually, a very remarkable woman. Born in the Lake Country, and
+belonging to the Society of Friends, she formed, as a girl, many happy
+friendships with the Wordsworths, the Southeys, the Coleridges, and
+all that charmed circle of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings and
+doings are so full of interest, and so dearly cherished.
+
+These friendships she continued to preserve after her marriage, and
+when she had exchanged her lovely lake home for an equally beautiful
+and interesting one on the Cornish coast, first at Perran and
+afterwards at Trebah.
+
+One of her special friendships was with Hartley Coleridge, who indited
+several of his sonnets to his beautiful young friend.
+
+The subjoined letter gives a pleasant picture of his friendly
+correspondence, and has not been included in the published papers by
+his brother, the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, who edited his remains.
+
+  "Dear Sarah,
+
+            If a stranger to the fold
+    Of happy innocents, where thou art one,
+    May so address thee by a name he loves,
+    Both for a mother's and a sister's sake,
+    And surely loves it not the less for thine.
+    Dear Sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee
+    That I should choose the quaint disguise of verse,
+    And, like a mimic masquer, come before thee
+    To tell my simple tale of country news,
+    Or,--sooth to tell thee,--I have nought to tell
+    But what a most intelligencing gossip
+    Would hardly mention on her morning rounds:
+    Things that a newspaper would not record
+    In the dead-blank recess of Parliament.
+    Yet so it is,--my thoughts are so confused,
+    My memory is so wild a wilderness,
+    I need the order of the measured line
+    To help me, whensoe'er I would attempt
+    To methodise the random notices
+    Of purblind observation. Easier far
+    The minuet step of slippery sliding verse,
+    Than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose.
+
+        Since you have left us, many a beauteous change
+    Hath Nature wrought on the eternal hills;
+    And not an hour hath past that hath not done
+    Its work of beauty. When December winds,
+    Hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves,
+    Shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night,
+    'Twas sweet, for watchers such as I, to mark
+    How bright, how very bright, the stars would shine
+    Through the deep rifts of congregated clouds;
+    How very distant seemed the azure sky;
+    And when at morn the lazy, weeping fog,
+    Long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake,
+    Whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun
+    Shed on the western hills his rosiest beams,
+    I thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale
+    Had lost one heart that could have felt its peace,
+    One eye that saw its beauties, and one soul
+    That made its peace and beauty all her own.
+
+        One morn there was a kindly boon of heaven,
+    That made the leafless woods so beautiful,
+    It was sore pity that one spirit lives,
+    That owns the presence of Eternal God
+    In all the world of Nature and of Mind,
+    Who did not see it. Low the vapour hung
+    On the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers
+    The lower regions of the mountainous round;
+    But every summit, and the lovely line
+    Of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky
+    Boldly defined. The cloudless sun dispelled
+    The hazy masses, and a lucid veil
+    But softened every charm it not concealed.
+    Then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side--
+    Young oak, yet laden with sere foliage;
+    Larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top
+    And spiney garb of horizontal boughs;
+    The veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined,
+    As if some Dæmon dwelt within its trunk,
+    And shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd
+    The holly and the yew, that never fade
+    And never smile; these, and whate'er beside,
+    Or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood,
+    Clothe the bleak strong girth of Silverhow
+    (You know the place, and every stream and brook
+    Is known to you) by ministry of Frost,
+    Were turned to shapes of Orient adamant,
+    As if the whitest crystals, new endow'd
+    With vital or with vegetative power,
+    Had burst from earth, to mimic every form
+    Of curious beauty that the earth could boast,
+    Or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes,
+    Frozen in an instant----"
+
+     "So much for verse, which, being execrably bad, cannot be excused,
+     except by friendship, therefore is the fitter for a friendly
+     epistle. There's logic for you! In fact, my dear lady, I am so
+     much delighted, not to say flattered, by your wish that I should
+     write to you, that I can't help being rather silly. It will be
+     a sad loss to me when your excellent mother leaves Grasmere;
+     and to-morrow my friend Archer and I dine at Dale End, for our
+     farewell. But so it must be. I am always happy to hear anything of
+     your little ones, who are such very sweet creatures that one might
+     almost think it a pity they should ever grow up to be big women,
+     and know only better than they do now. Among all the anecdotes
+     of childhood that have been recorded, I never heard of one so
+     characteristic as Jenny-Kitty's wish to inform Lord Dunstanville
+     of the miseries of the negroes. Bless its little soul! I am truly
+     sorry to hear that you have been suffering bodily illness, though
+     I know that it cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. I hope
+     little Derwent did not disturb you with his crown; I am told he is
+     a lovely little wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine. I hope
+     he will see his way better with them. Derwent has never answered
+     my letter, but I complain not; I dare say he has more than enough
+     to do.[3] Thank you kindly for your kindness to him and his lady.
+     I hope the friendship of Friends will not obstruct his rising in
+     the Church, and that he will consult his own interest prudently,
+     paying court to the powers that be, yet never so far committing
+     himself as to miss an opportunity of ingratiating himself with
+     the powers that may be. Let him not utter, far less write, any
+     sentence that will not bear a twofold interpretation! For the
+     present let his liberality go no further than a very liberal
+     explanation of the words consistency and gratitude may carry
+     him; let him always be honest when it is his interest to be so,
+     and sometimes when it may appear not to be so; and never be a
+     knave under a deanery or a rectory of five thousand a year! My
+     best remembrances to your husband, and kisses for Juliet and
+     Jenny-Kitty, though she did say she liked Mr. Barber far better
+     than me. I can't say I agree with her in that particular, having a
+     weak partiality for
+
+     Your affectionate friend,
+              Hartley Coleridge."
+
+Another friend of the Fox family was the late John Bright, and the
+following letter to the now well-known Caroline Fox of Penjerrick will
+be read with interest:--
+
+            Torquay, 10 _mo._ 13, 1868.
+
+     "My dear Friend,
+
+     I hope the 'one cloud' has passed away. I was much pleased with
+     the earnestness and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask thee
+     for a copy of it, but was afraid to give thee the trouble of
+     writing it out for me.
+
+     "For myself, I have endeavoured only to speak when I have had
+     something to say which it seemed to me ought to be said, and I did
+     not feel that the sentiment of the poem condemned me.
+
+     "We had a pleasant visit to Kynance Cove. It is a charming
+     place, and we were delighted with it. We went on through Helston
+     to Penzance: the day following we visited the Logan Rock and the
+     Land's End, and in the afternoon the celebrated Mount--the weather
+     all we could wish for. We were greatly pleased with the Mount,
+     and I shall not read 'Lycidas' with less interest now that I have
+     seen the place of the 'great vision.' We found the hotel to which
+     you kindly directed us perfect in all respects. On Friday we came
+     from Penzance to Truro, and posted to St. Columb, where we spent a
+     night at Mr. Northy's--the day and night were very wet. Next day
+     we posted to Tintagel, and back to Launceston, taking the train
+     there for Torquay.
+
+     "We were pressed for time at Tintagel, but were pleased with what
+     we saw.
+
+     "Here, we are in a land of beauty and of summer, the beauty beyond
+     my expectation, and the climate like that of Nice. Yesterday we
+     drove round to see the sights, and W. Pengelly and Mr. Vivian
+     went with us to Kent's Cavern, Anstey's Cove, and the round of
+     exquisite views. We are at Cash's Hotel, but visit our friend
+     Susan Midgley in the day and evening. To-morrow we start for
+     Street, to stay a day or two with my daughter Helen, and are to
+     spend Sunday at Bath. We have seen much and enjoyed much in our
+     excursion, but we shall remember nothing with more pleasure than
+     your kindness and our stay at Penjerrick.
+
+     "Elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate remembrance of you,
+     and in the hope that thy dear father did not suffer from the 'long
+     hours' to which my talk subjected him. When we get back to our
+     bleak region and home of cold and smoke, we shall often think of
+     your pleasant retreat, and of the wonderful gardens at Penjerrick.
+
+     Believe me,
+
+         Always sincerely thy friend,
+              John Bright."
+
+     _To_ Caroline Fox,
+     Penjerrick, Falmouth.
+
+There are few men whose every uttered word is regarded with greater
+respect and interest than Mr. Ruskin. It is well known that he has
+always been a wide and careful collector of minerals, gems, and fine
+specimens of the art and nature world. One of his various agents,
+through whom at one time he made many such purchases, both for himself
+and his Oxford and Sheffield museums, was Mr. Bryce Wright, the
+mineralogist, and to him are addressed the following five letters:--
+
+              Brantwood, Coniston, Lancashire,
+                  _22nd May '81_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very greatly obliged to you for letting me see these opals,
+     quite unexampled, as you rightly say, from that locality--but
+     from that locality _I_ never buy--my kind is the opal formed in
+     pores and cavities, throughout the mass of that compact brown
+     jasper--this, which is merely a superficial crust of jelly on the
+     surface of a nasty brown sandstone, I do not myself value in the
+     least. I wish you could get at some of the geology of the two
+     sorts, but I suppose everything is kept close by the diggers and
+     the Jews at present.
+
+     "As for the cameos, the best of the two, 'supposed' (by whom?) to
+     represent Isis, represents neither Egyptian nor Oxonian Isis, but
+     only an ill-made French woman of the town bathing at Boulogne, and
+     the other is only a 'Minerve' of the Halles, a _petroleuse_ in a
+     mob-cap, sulphur-fire colour.
+
+     "I don't depreciate what I want to buy, as you know well, but it
+     is not safe to send me things in the set way 'supposed' to be
+     this or that! If you ever get any more nice little cranes, or
+     cockatoos, looking like what they're supposed to be meant for,
+     they shall at least be returned with compliments.
+
+     "I send back the box by to-day's rail; put down all expenses to my
+     account, as I am always amused and interested by a parcel from you.
+
+     "You needn't print this letter as an advertisement, unless you
+     like!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _23rd May_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     The silver's safe here, and I want to buy it for Sheffield, but
+     the price seems to me awful. It must always be attached to it
+     at the museum, and I fear great displeasure from the public for
+     giving you such a price. What is there in the specimen to make it
+     so valuable? I have not anything like it, nor do I recollect its
+     like (or I shouldn't want it), but if so rare, why does not the
+     British Museum take it.
+
+     Ever truly yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _Wednesday_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very glad of your long and interesting letter, and can
+     perfectly understand all your difficulties, and have always
+     observed your activity and attention to your business with much
+     sympathy, but of late certainly I have been frightened at your
+     prices, and, before I saw the golds, was rather uneasy at having
+     so soon to pay for them. But you are quite right in your estimate
+     of the interest and value of the collection, and I hope to be
+     able to be of considerable service to you yet, though I fear it
+     cannot be in buying specimens at seventy guineas, unless there is
+     something to be shown for the money, like that great native silver!
+
+     "I have really not been able to examine the red ones yet--the
+     golds alone were more than I could judge of till I got a quiet
+     hour this morning. I might possibly offer to change some of the
+     locally interesting ones for a proustite, but I can't afford any
+     more cash just now.
+
+     Ever very heartily yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood,
+      _3rd Nov. or 4th (?), Friday_.
+
+     "Dear Wright,
+
+     My telegram will, I hope, enable you to act with promptness about
+     the golds, which will be of extreme value to me; and its short
+     saying about the proustites will, I hope, not be construed by you
+     as meaning that I will buy them also. You don't really suppose
+     that you are to be paid interest of money on minerals, merely
+     because they have lain long in your hands.
+
+     "If I sold my old arm-chair, which has got the rickets, would
+     you expect the purchaser to pay me forty years' interest on the
+     original price? Your proustite may perhaps be as good as ever
+     it was, but it is not worth more to me or Sheffield because you
+     have had either the enjoyment or the care of it longer than you
+     expected!
+
+     "But I am really very seriously obliged by the _sight_ of it, with
+     the others, and perhaps may make an effort to lump some of the new
+     ones with the gold in an estimate of large purchase. I think the
+     gold, by your description, must be a great credit to Sheffield and
+     to me; perhaps I mayn't be able to part with it!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Herne Hill, S.E., _6 May '84_.
+
+     "My dear Bryce,
+
+     I can't resist this tourmaline, and have carried it off with me.
+     For you and Regent Street it's not monstrous in price neither; but
+     I must send you back your (pink!) apatite. I wish I'd come to see
+     you, but have been laid up all the time I've been here--just got
+     to the pictures, and that's all.
+
+     Yours always,
+
+       (much to my damage!)
+
+              J. R."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[2] "Life of Sir T. FitzJames Stephen," by his Brother, Leslie Stephen.
+Smith, Elder & Co., 1895.
+
+[3] The Rev. Derwent Coleridge was at the time keeping a school at
+Helston, which was within an easy distance of Perran, where Mrs. Fox
+was at this time living.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 15.
+
+    "_Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,
+    Or wise beyond what other women are._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+An oval picture that hangs opposite Sheridan's portrait is a fine
+presentment of the Marquis de Ségur, by Vanloo.
+
+The Marquis was born in 1724, and eventually became a marshal of
+France, and minister of war to Louis XVI. After his royal master's
+execution he fell into very low water, and it was only by his calm
+intrepidity in very trying circumstances that he escaped the
+guillotine. His memoirs have from time to time appeared, generally
+under the authority of some of his descendants. This interesting
+portrait belonged to the family of de Ségur, and was parted with by the
+present head of the house to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who gave it
+to us.
+
+The history of this admirable woman is deeply interesting in every
+detail. She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay, a member of a good
+old French family, who was ruined by the French Revolution of 1785.
+Born at Versailles in the year 1812, her father had the child named
+Yolande Marie Louise; and she was educated at the Conservatoire in
+Paris, where they soon discovered her wonderful talent for dancing.
+This art was encouraged, developed, and trained to the uttermost; and
+when, in due time, she appeared upon the ballet stage, she took the
+town by storm, and at once came to the foremost rank as the well-known
+Mademoiselle Duvernay, rivalling, if not excelling, the two Ellsslers,
+Cerito, and Taglioni.
+
+She made wide the fame of the Cachucha dance, which was specially
+rearranged for her; and the world was immediately deluged with her
+portraits, some good, some bad, many very apocryphal, and many very
+indifferent.
+
+In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful "Roundabout Papers," which
+perhaps contain some of the most beautiful work he ever gave us, he
+thus recalls, in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone, his recollections
+of the great _danseuse_. "In William IV.'s time, when I think of
+Duvernay dancing in as the Bayadère, I say it was a vision of
+loveliness such as mortal eyes can't see nowadays. How well I remember
+the tune to which she used to appear! Kaled used to say to the Sultan,
+'My lord, a troop of those dancing and singing girls called Bayadères
+approaches,' and to the clash of cymbals and the thumping of my heart,
+in she used to dance! There has never been anything like it--never."
+
+After a few years of brilliant successes she retired from the stage
+she had done so much to grace and dignify, and married the late Mr.
+Stephens Lyne Stephens, who in those days, and after his good old
+father's death, was considered one of the richest commoners in England.
+
+He died in 1860, after a far too short, but intensely happy, married
+life; and having no children, left his widow, as far as was in his
+power, complete mistress of his large fortune. They were both devoted
+to art, and being very acute connoisseurs, had collected a superb
+quantity of the best pictures, the rarest old French furniture, and the
+finest china.
+
+The bulk of these remarkable collections was dispersed at Christie's
+in a nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and proved the great attraction
+of the season, buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna, and Berlin eagerly
+competing with London for the best things.
+
+Some of the more remarkable prices are here noted, as being of
+permanent interest to the art-loving world, and testifying how little
+hard times can affect the sale of a really fine and genuine collection.
+
+As a rule, the prices obtained were very far in excess of those paid
+for the various objects, in many cases reaching four and five times
+their original cost.
+
+A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070 guineas. The beautiful Sèvres
+oviform vase, given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de Montcalm, 1900
+guineas. A pair of Sèvres blue and gold Jardinières, 5-1/4 inches high,
+1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000 guineas. A small upright Louis
+XVI. secretaire, 800 guineas. Another rather like it, 960 guineas. A
+marble bust of Louis XIV., 567 guineas. Three Sèvres oviform vases,
+from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000 guineas. A single oviform
+Sèvres vase, 760 guineas. A pair of Sèvres vases, 1050 guineas. A
+very beautiful Sedan chair, in Italian work of the sixteenth century,
+600 guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas. A Louis XV. upright
+secretaire, 1320 guineas. "Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon,
+2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length portrait by Velasquez, 4300
+guineas. A bust of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas. "Faith
+presenting the Eucharist," a splendid work by Murillo, 2350 guineas.
+"The Prince of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas. "The Village
+Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660 guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work,
+1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame Vigée le Brun, 2250 guineas.
+A lovely portrait by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated
+picture of "La Gamme d'Amour," 3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's
+Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively 1300 guineas and 1050
+guineas. Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry, 690 guineas; and
+a small head of a girl by Greuze sold for 710 guineas.
+
+Small pieces of china of no remarkable merit, but bearing a greatly
+enhanced value from belonging to this celebrated collection, obtained
+wonderful prices. For example:--
+
+     A Sang-de Boeuf Crackle vase, 12-1/2 inches high, 280 guineas. A
+     pair of china Kylins, 360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155
+     guineas. A pair of Sèvres dark blue oviform vases, 1000 guineas.
+     Three Sèvres vases, 1520 guineas. Two small panels of old French
+     tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair, 710 guineas. A circular
+     Sèvres bowl, 13 inches in diameter, 300 guineas.
+
+The ormolu ornaments of the time of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for
+instance--
+
+     An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas. A pair of wall lights, 102
+     guineas. A pair of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another pair,
+     500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons, 220 guineas.
+
+Little tables of Louis XV. period also sold amazingly.
+
+     An oblong one, 21-1/2 inches wide, 285 guineas. An upright
+     secretaire, 580 guineas. A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315
+     guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany cabinets, 950 guineas. A
+     pair of Louis XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas; and an
+     ebony cabinet of the same time fetched the extraordinary price of
+     1700 guineas; and a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for 300
+     guineas.
+
+The grand total obtained by this remarkable sale, together with some of
+the plate and jewels, amounted to £158,000!
+
+For thirty-four years, as a widow, Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered,
+with the utmost wisdom and the broadest generosity, the large trust
+thus placed in her most capable hands. Building and restoring churches
+for both creeds (she being Catholic and her late husband Protestant);
+endowing needy young couples whom she considered had some claim upon
+her, if only as friends; further adding to and completing her art
+collections, and finishing and beautifying her different homes in
+Norfolk, Paris, and Roehampton.
+
+Generous to the fullest degree, she would warmly resent the least
+attempt to impose upon her. An amusing instance of this occurred many
+years ago, when one of her husband's relations, considering he had
+some extraordinary claim upon the widow's generosity, again and again
+pressed her for large benevolences, which for a season he obtained.
+Getting tired of his importunity, she at last declined to render
+further help, and received in reply a very abusive letter from the
+claimant, which wound up by stating that if the desired assistance
+were not forthcoming by a certain date, the applicant would set up
+a fruit-stall in front of her then town-house in Piccadilly, and so
+shame her into compliance with his request. She immediately wrote him
+a pretty little letter in reply, saying, "That it was with sincere
+pleasure she had heard of her correspondent's intention of pursuing for
+the first time an honest calling whereby to earn his bread, and that if
+his oranges were good, she had given orders that they should be bought
+for her servants' hall!"
+
+During the Franco-German war of 1870 she remained in Paris in her
+beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, and would daily sally
+forth to help the sufferings which the people in Paris were undergoing.
+No one will ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice she then made.
+Her men-servants had all left to fight for their country, and she was
+alone in the big house, with only two or three maids to accompany her.
+During the Commune she continued her daily walks abroad, and was always
+recognised by the mob as a good Frenchwoman, doing her utmost for the
+needs of the very poor. Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace, who
+was also in Paris during these troubles, well earned his baronetcy by
+his care of the poor English shut up in the city during the siege; but
+although Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite as wide and generous as
+his, she never received, nor did she expect or desire it, one word of
+acknowledgment or thanks from any of the powers that were.
+
+She died at Lynford, from the result of a fall on a parquet floor,
+on the 2nd September 1894, aged 82, full of physical vigour and
+intellectual brightness, and still remarkable for her personal beauty;
+finding life to the last full of many interests, but impressed by
+the sadness of having outlived nearly all her early friends and
+contemporaries.
+
+She lingered nearly three weeks after the actual fall, during which her
+affectionate gratitude to all who watched and tended her, her bright
+recognition when faces she loved came near, her quick response to all
+that was said and done, were beautiful and touching to see, and very
+sweet to remember. Her last words to the writer of these lines when
+he bade her farewell were, "My fondest love to my beloved Julian;"
+our invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she always evinced the deepest
+affection and sympathy.
+
+In her funeral sermon, preached by Canon Scott, himself an intimate
+friend, in the beautiful church she had built for Cambridge, to a
+crowded and deeply sympathetic audience, he eloquently observed:
+"Greatly indeed was she indebted to God; richly had she been
+endowed with gifts of every kind; of natural character, of special
+intelligence, of winning attractiveness, which compelled homage from
+all who came under the charm of her influence; with the result of
+widespread renown and unbounded wealth.... Therefore it was that the
+blessing of God came in another form--by the discipline of suffering
+and trial. There was the trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she was,
+of her husband, of whose affection we may judge by the way in which
+he had laid all he possessed at her feet; French and Catholic, living
+amongst those who were not of her faith or nation, though enjoying
+their devoted friendship. With advancing years, deprived by death even
+of those intimate friends, she was lonely in a sense throughout her
+life.... Nor must it be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge was
+not merely an easy one out of superfluous wealth, but that it involved
+some personal sacrifice. Friends of late had missed the sight of costly
+jewels, which for years had formed a part of her personal adornment.
+What had become of a necklace of rarest pearls, now no longer
+worn?--They had been sacrificed for the erection of this very church."
+
+Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the Roman Catholic Bishop of
+Northampton to his flock, dated the 28th of November 1894, he says:
+"We take occasion of this our Advent pastoral, to commend to your
+prayers the soul of one who has recently passed away, Mrs. Lyne
+Stephens. Her innumerable works of religion and charity during her
+life, force us to acknowledge our indebtedness to her; she built
+at her sole cost the churches of Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge,
+and she gave a large donation for the church at Wellingborough. It
+was she who gave the presbytery and the endowment of Lynford, the
+rectory at Cambridge, and our own residence at Northampton. By a large
+donation she greatly helped the new episcopal income fund, and she was
+generous to the Holy Father on the occasion of his first jubilee. Our
+indebtedness was increased by her bequests, one to ourselves as the
+Bishop, one for the maintenance of the fabric of the Cambridge Church,
+another for the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a fourth to the Clergy
+Fund of this Diocese. Her name has been inscribed in our _Liber Vitæ_,
+among the great benefactors whether living or dead, and for these we
+constantly offer up prayers that God may bless their good estate in
+life, and after death receive them to their reward."
+
+To the inmates of Foxwold she was for nearly a quarter of a century
+a true and loving friend, paying them frequent little visits, and
+entering with the deepest sympathy into the lives of those who also
+loved her very dearly.
+
+The house bears, through her generosity, many marks of her exquisite
+taste and broad bounty, and her memory will always be fragrant and
+beautiful to those who knew her.
+
+There are three portraits of her at Roehampton. The first, as a most
+winsome, lovely girl, drawn life-size by a great pastellist in the
+reign of Louis Philippe; the second, as a handsome matron, in the happy
+years of her all too short married life; and the last, by Carolus
+Duran, was painted in Paris in 1888. This has been charmingly engraved,
+and represents her as a most lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey
+hair and large violet eyes, very wide apart. She was intellectually
+as well as physically one of the strongest women, and she never had a
+day's illness, until her fatal accident, in her life. Her conversation
+and power of repartee was extremely clever and brilliant. A shrewd
+observer of character, she rarely made a mistake in her first estimate
+of people, and her sometimes adverse judgments, which at first
+sight appeared harsh, were invariably justified by the history of
+after-events.
+
+Her charity was illimitable, and was always, as far as possible,
+concealed. A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted, generous woman, her
+death has created a peculiar void, which will not in our time be again
+filled:--
+
+    "For some we loved, the loveliest and the best,
+    That from his Vintage, rolling Time hath prest,
+    Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before,
+    And one by one crept silently to rest."
+
+
+
+
+The Index
+
+    "_Studious he sate, with all his books around,
+    Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound;
+    Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there;
+    Then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+  America. Humours of a voyage to, 18.
+
+
+  Baxter, Robert. His hospitality, 53.
+
+  Bedford Town and Schools, 73.
+
+  Binders and their work, 41.
+
+  Bradley, A. G. Life of Wolfe, 10.
+
+  Bright, John. Letter from, 134.
+
+
+  Calverley, C. S., 2.
+
+  Charles II. and Lord Northesk, 101.
+
+  Christie's. A sale at, 11.
+
+  Christie's. Lyne Stephens sale, 148.
+
+  Coleridge, Hartley. Letter from, 129.
+
+  Combe Bank, 109.
+
+  Craze, modern. For work, 48.
+
+  Cunarder. On board a, 18.
+
+  "Cynical Song of the City," 50.
+
+
+  Dickens. On over-work, 48.
+
+  Dobson, Austin, 63.
+
+
+  Ethie Castle and its ghost story, 104.
+
+
+  Fox, Caroline. John Bright's letter to, 134.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, of Trebah, 128.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, and Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+  Foxwold and its early train, 51.
+
+  French Revolution of 1848, 85.
+
+
+  Gainsborough's portrait of Wolfe, 8.
+
+  Ghost story at Ethie, 104.
+
+  Gosse, Edmund. Poem by, 61.
+
+  Grain, R. Corney. Sketch of, 3.
+
+    "         "     His charity, 4.
+
+    "         "     Letter from, 6.
+
+  Guthrie, Anstey. Bon-mot of, 52.
+
+
+  Hamilton's parodies, 123.
+
+  Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 59.
+
+  Humours of an Atlantic voyage, 18.
+
+
+  "Jane will return." A true story, 119.
+
+  Jerrold, Douglas. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Laureateship, The, 58.
+
+  Lehmann, R. C. Poem by, 78.
+
+  Letter from John Bright, 134.
+
+    "      "  Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+    "      "  Charles II., 101.
+
+    "      "  R. Corney Grain, 6.
+
+    "      "  Lord Lauderdale, 102.
+
+  Letter from John Poole, 83.
+
+    "      "  John Ruskin, 137.
+
+    "      "  G. A. Sala, 69.
+
+  Longfellow. Extract from, 117.
+
+  Lyne Stephens, Mrs., 144.
+
+    "      "     Sketch of her life, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her art collections, 147.
+
+    "      "     Thackeray's sketch of her, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her death, 154.
+
+    "      "     Her funeral sermon, 155.
+
+    "      "     Great sale at Christie's, 148.
+
+  Lytton, Robert, Lord. Poem by, 60.
+
+
+  Manning, Cardinal, 109.
+
+  Manning, Charles John, 109.
+
+  Mayhew, Horace, 67.
+
+  Meadows, Kenny. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Newgate. Visit to, 34.
+
+  Northesk, Lord, and Charles II., 101.
+
+
+  Parody. An unknown one, 123.
+
+  Payn, Mr. James. His lay-sermons, 126.
+
+  Poets who are not read, 115.
+
+  Poole, John. Letter from, 83.
+
+  Portland, Duke of, and his books, 42.
+
+  Portraits of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 159.
+
+  _Punch._ Memorials of, 66.
+
+     "    Portraits of writers to, 66.
+
+
+  Reynolds, Sir Joshua. Portrait by, 11.
+
+  Ruskin, John. Letters from, 137.
+
+
+  Sala, G. A. Letter from, 69.
+
+    "     "   Picture by, 69.
+
+  Sales at Christie's, 11, 148.
+
+  Schools, Bedford, 73.
+
+  Ségur, Marquis de. Portrait of, 143.
+
+  Sheridan, R. B. Portrait of, 11.
+
+  Stevenson, R. L., 77.
+
+  Stories. American, 18.
+
+  Scott, Canon. Sermon by, 155.
+
+  Symon, Arthur. Poem by, 63.
+
+
+  Texts, inappropriate, 55, 56, 57.
+
+  Thackeray's description of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 145.
+
+
+  Westerham. Birthplace of Wolfe, 9.
+
+  Wolfe, General. Portrait of, 9.
+
+  Woods, Mr. Thomas H., 13.
+
+  Work, modern. Craze for, 48.
+
+  Z---- sale of pictures, 15.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Reader (_loquiter_).
+
+    "_Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door;
+    Sir, let me see your works and you no more!_"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+
+
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+  |  Transcriber's Note:                                               |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  In this etext the caret ^ represents a superscript character.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.      |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant  |
+  |  form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.             |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved to the beginning of   |
+  |  the chat in which they occurred. The List of Illustrations        |
+  |  paginations were not corrected.                                   |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Other corrections:                                                |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  -- Page 89: 'Hotel des Affaires Étrangers,' changed to 'Hôtel des |
+  |     Affaires Étrangères,'                                          |
+  |  -- Page 125: Caligraphy changed to calligraphy.                   |
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44810 ***
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+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44810 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><a name="cover" id="cover"></a>
+  <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Front Cover" /></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing5"><a name="i_001.jpg" id="i_001.jpg"></a>
+  <img src="images/i_001.jpg"
+      alt="Chats in the Book-room" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class="hangindent blockquote">Of this Book only One Hundred and Fifty
+Copies were privately printed for the
+Author, on Arnold's Unbleached Handmade
+Paper, in the month of January
+1896&mdash;of which this is</p>
+<p class="center"><i>No. 25</i></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter right"><a name="i_002.jpg" id="i_002.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_002.jpg"
+      alt="H.N. Pym" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="PORTRAIT" id="PORTRAIT">
+    <img src="images/i_004.jpg" alt="Picture of Horace Pym" /></a>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="i_007.jpg" id="i_007.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_007.jpg"
+      alt="Title Page" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<h1><big>Chats in the<br />
+Book-room</big></h1>
+
+<p class="center">By<br />
+<br />
+Horace N. Pym<br />
+<br />
+<small>Editor of Caroline Fox's Journals; A Mother's Memoir;<br />
+A Tour Round my Book-shelves, etc. etc.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>With Portrait by MOLLY EVANS, and Two<br />
+Photogravures of the Book-room</i></p>
+
+<p class="blockquote topspacing3">"If any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories,
+be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is
+one of your familiar acquaintances) be not too forward to contradict
+him."&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sir Matthew Hale.</span></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing5 center">Privately Printed for the Author in the Year
+1896 by Ballantyne, Hanson &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class="center"><i>To<br />
+My Dearly Loved Son<br /><br />
+<big>Julian Tindale Pym</big><br /><br />
+I dedicate these "Chats in the Book-room,"
+to which I ask him to extend that noble
+"Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill,"
+which gilds and elevates his life.</i></p>
+
+<p class="right">H. N. P.</p>
+
+<p class="smcap">Christmas,<br />
+Foxwold Chase, 1895.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_011.jpg" id="i_011.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_011.jpg"
+      alt="Page Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>Table of Contents</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+      <div class="verse">"<i>Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>That warm its creeping life-blood till the last.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">O. W. Holmes.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="right topspacing2">Page</p>
+
+<table class="toctable" id="TOC" summary="Contents">
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#INTRODUCTION" style="text-decoration: none;">
+      Introduction</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2">1</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_I" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT I.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Richard Corney Grain&mdash;His home qualities&mdash;His
+	  love for children&mdash;His benevolence&mdash;His power of pathos&mdash;
+      His letter on a holiday</td>
+	<td class="c2">3</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_II" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT II.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a portrait of General Wolfe&mdash;On the use of portraits
+	  in country-houses&mdash;On a sale at Christie's&mdash;A curious story
+	  about a curious sale</td>
+	<td class="c2">8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>
+	<a href="#CHAT_III" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT III.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On holiday trips&mdash;Across the Atlantic&mdash;Some
+	  humours of the voyage&mdash;Some stories told in the gun-room</td>
+	<td class="c2">18</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_IV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT IV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a private visit to Newgate prison&mdash;In Execution yard&mdash;
+	Some anecdotes of the condemned</td>
+	<td class="c2">34</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_V" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT V.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Book-binding&mdash;Some worthy members of the craft
+	  &mdash;On over-work and the modern race for wealth&mdash;Charles Dickens
+	   on work&mdash;A Song of the City&mdash;Anecdote of Mr. Anstey Guthrie</td>
+	<td class="c2">41</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VI" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VI.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On an uninvited guest&mdash;Her illness&mdash;Her
+	  convalescence&mdash;Her recovery&mdash;Her gratitude&mdash;On texts
+	  in bedrooms&mdash;A welcoming banner</td>
+	<td class="c2">53</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On some minor poets&mdash;On <i>vers de Société</i>&mdash;
+	On Praed, C. S. Calverley, Locker-Lampson, and Mr. A. Dobson</td>
+	<td class="c2">58</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VIII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VIII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Mr. Punch and his founders&mdash;Concerning portraits
+	  of Jerrold, Kenny Meadows, and Horace Mayhew&mdash;On Mr. Sala as a
+	  painter&mdash;A letter from G. A. Sala</td>
+	<td class="c2">66</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
+	<a href="#CHAT_IX" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT IX.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On our schooldays&mdash;On Bedford, past and present&mdash;
+	  On R. C. Lehmann&mdash;A poem by him&mdash;A Christmas greeting by
+	  H. E. Luxmoore</td>
+	<td class="c2">73</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_X" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT X.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry"&mdash;His friendship
+	  with Dickens&mdash;His letter to Dickens detailing the French Revolution
+	  of 1848</td>
+	<td class="c2">82</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XI" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XI.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Ethie Castle&mdash;Its artistic treasures&mdash;A letter
+	  from Charles II.&mdash;A true family ghost story</td>
+	<td class="c2">99</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Cardinal Manning&mdash;Dramatic effect at his
+	  <i>Academia</i>&mdash;On Poets who are never read, or "hardly ever"</td>
+	<td class="c2">108</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XIII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XIII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a true story, called "Jane will return"&mdash;On
+	  Hamilton's "Parodies"&mdash;An unknown one, by the Rev. James Bolton</td>
+	<td class="c2">119</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>
+	  <a href="#CHAT_XIV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XIV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On autographs&mdash;Mr. James Payn and his
+	  lay-sermons&mdash;Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah&mdash;Her friendship with
+	  Hartley Coleridge&mdash;A letter from him&mdash;A letter from John
+	  Bright to Caroline Fox&mdash;Mr. Ruskin as a mineral collector&mdash;Five
+	  unpublished letters from him</td>
+	<td class="c2">125</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Mrs. Lyne Stephens&mdash;The story of her early
+	  life&mdash;Thackeray's sketch of her&mdash;Her art collections&mdash;A
+	  wonderful sale at Christie's&mdash;Her charities and friendships&mdash;Her
+	  death&mdash;Her funeral sermon&mdash;Her portraits</td>
+	<td class="c2">143</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="poetry-container topspacing2">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>I come not here your morning hour to sadden,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>A limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,&mdash;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="right">&mdash;The Iron Gate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3"><a name="i_014.jpg" id="i_014.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_014.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<h2>List of Illustrations</h2>
+
+<table class="toctable" id="ILLUSTRATIONS" summary="Illustrations">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#PORTRAIT" style="text-decoration: none;">Portrait</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2"><i>To face the Title Page</i></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#BOOK_ROOM_1" style="text-decoration: none;">
+	  The Book Room (First View)</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2"><i>Page</i> 58</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#BOOK_ROOM_2" style="text-decoration: none;">
+	  The Book Room (Second View)</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;" 113</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing5"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_017a.jpg" id="i_017a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_017a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Some of your griefs you have cured,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And the sharpest you still have survived;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>But what torments of pain you endured,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>From evils that never arrived!</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">A few years ago a little
+inconsequent volume was
+launched on partial acquaintance,
+telling of some
+ordinary books which line our friendly
+shelves, of some kindly friends who
+had read and chatted about them, some
+old stories they had told, and some
+happy memories they had awakened.</p>
+
+<p>When those acquaintances had read
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
+the little book, they asked, like Oliver,
+for more. A rash request, because, unlike
+Oliver, they get it in the shape
+of another "Olla Podrida" of book-chat,
+picture-gossip, and perchance a
+stray "chestnut." Their good-nature
+must be invoked to receive it, like
+C. S. Calverley's sojourners&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Who when they travel, if they find</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">That they have left their pocket-compass,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Or Murray, or thick boots behind,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">They raise no rumpus."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1"><a name="i_018.jpg" id="i_018.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_018.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_019a.jpg" id="i_019a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_019a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_I" id="CHAT_I">Chat No. 1.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>With too serene a conscience drew</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Your easy breath, and slumbered through</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>The gravest issue;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>But we, to whom our age allows</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Look down upon your narrow house,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>Old friend, and miss you.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Austin Dobson.</span></div>
+
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_019b.jpg" alt="Letter S"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Since</span>
+we made our last
+"Tour Round the Book-shelves,"
+death has removed one of the kindest
+friends, and most genial companions, of
+the Book-room. In Richard Corney
+Grain, Foxwold has lost one of its
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
+pleasantest and most welcome guests,
+and it is doubtful, well as the public
+cared for and appreciated his genius, if
+it knew or suspected how generous a
+heart, and how wide a charity, moved
+beneath that massive frame. When
+rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon
+thing for Dick Grain to dedicate
+them to the solace and amusement
+of some hospital or children's home,
+where, with a small cottage piano, he
+would, moving from ward to ward,
+give the suffering patients an hour's
+freedom from their pain, and some
+happy laughs amid their misery.</p>
+
+<p>One day, after a series of short performances
+in the different parts of one
+of our large London hospitals, he was
+about to sing in the accident ward,
+when the secretary to the hospital
+gravely asked him "Not to be too
+funny in this room, for fear he'd
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+make the patients burst their bandages!"</p>
+
+<p>Dick Grain was never so happy, so
+natural, or so amusing as when, of his
+own motion, he was singing to a nursery
+full of children in a country
+house.</p>
+
+<p>Those who knew him well were aware
+that, delightful as were all his humorous
+impersonations, he had a graver and
+more impressive side to his lovable and
+admirable character, and that he would
+sometimes, when sure he would be
+understood, sing a pathetic song, which
+made the tears flow as rapidly as in
+others the smiles had been evoked.</p>
+
+<p>Who that heard it will forget his
+little French song, supposed to be
+sung by one of the first Napoleon's
+old Guard for bread in the streets. He
+sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice
+a song of victory, breaking off in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+middle of a line full of the sound of
+battle to cough a hacking cough, and
+beg a sous for the love of God!</p>
+
+<p>Subjoined is one of his friendly little
+notes, full of the quiet happy humour
+that made him so welcome a guest in
+every friend's house.</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <div class="margin-left-60 smcap">Hothfield Place,</div>
+  <div class="smcap right">Ashford, Kent.</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Pym</span></p>
+
+<p>I shall be proud to welcome you
+and Mrs. Pym on Wednesday the 26th, but
+why St. George's Hall? Why not go at
+once to a play and not to an entertainment?
+Plays at night. Entertainments in the afternoon.
+Besides, we are so empty in the
+evenings now, the new piece being four
+weeks overdue. Anyhow, I hope to see you
+at 8 Weymouth Street on Nov. 26th, at any
+hour after my work, say 10.15 or 10.30, and
+so on, every quarter of an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"I am dwelling in the Halls of the Great,
+waited on by powdered menials, who rather
+look down on me, I think, and hide my
+clothes, and lay things out I don't wish to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+put on, and button my collar on to my shirt,
+and my braces on to my &mdash;&mdash;, and when I
+try to throw the braces over my shoulders I
+hit my head with the buckle, and get my
+collar turned upside down, and tear out the
+buttons in my endeavours to get it right; and
+they fill my bath so full, that the displacement
+caused by my unwieldy body sends
+quarts of water through the ceiling on to
+the drawing-room&mdash;the Red Drawing-room.
+Piano covered with the choicest products of
+Eastern towns. Luckily the party is small,
+so we only occupy the Dragon's Blood Room,
+so perhaps they won't notice it. But a truce
+to fooling till Nov. 26.&mdash;Yours sincerely,</p>
+
+<div class="right"><span class="smcap">R. Corney Grain</span>."</div>
+<div><i>Nov. 16, 1890.</i></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">He was one of the most gifted,
+warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism
+was all upon the surface, and was never
+unkind, the big heart beat true beneath.
+His premature death has eclipsed the
+honest gaiety of this nation&mdash;"he should
+have died hereafter."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_024.jpg" id="i_024.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_024.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_II" id="CHAT_II">Chat No. 2.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>To all the sensual world proclaim,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>One crowded hour of glorious life,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Is worth an age without a name.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;Old Mortality.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">A Picture</span>
+hangs at Foxwold
+of supreme interest
+and beauty, being a portrait
+of General Wolfe by Gainsborough.
+Its history is shortly this&mdash;painted
+in Bath in 1758, probably for
+Miss Lowther, to whom he was then
+engaged, and whose miniature he was
+wearing when death claimed him; it
+afterwards became the property of Mr.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
+Gibbons, a picture collector, who lived
+in the Regent's Park in London, descending
+in due course to his son, whose
+widow eventually sold it to Thomas
+Woolner, the R.A. and sculptor; it
+was bought for Foxwold from Mrs.
+Woolner in 1895.</p>
+
+<p>The great master has most wonderfully
+rendered the hero's long, gaunt,
+sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full
+of coming sorrow and present ill-health.
+His cocked hat and red coat slashed
+with silver braid are brilliantly painted,
+whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued
+by a touch of powder.</p>
+
+<p>One especial interest that attends this
+picture in its present home is, that
+within two miles of Foxwold he was
+born, and passed some youthful years in
+the picturesque little town of Westerham,
+his birthplace, and that his short
+and wonderful career will always be
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+especially connected with Squerryes
+Court, then the property of his friend
+George Warde, and still in the possession
+of that family.</p>
+
+<p>Until recently no adequate or satisfactory
+life of Wolfe existed, but Mr.
+A. G. Bradley has now filled the gap
+with his beautiful and affecting monograph
+for the Macmillan Series of
+English Men of Action: a little book
+which should be read by every English
+boy who desires to know by what
+means this happy land is what it is.</p>
+
+<p>In country houses the best decoration
+is portraits, portraits, and always portraits.
+In the town by all means show
+fine landscape and sea-scape&mdash;heathery
+hills and blue seas&mdash;fisher folks and
+plough boys&mdash;but when from your
+windows the happy autumn fields and
+glowing woods are seen, let the eye
+returning to the homely walls be
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+cheered with the answer of face to face,
+human interests and human features
+leading the memory into historic channels
+and memory's brightest corners.
+How pleasant it is in the room where,
+in the spirit, we now meet, to chat beneath
+the brilliant eyes of R. B. Sheridan,
+limned by Sir Joshua, or to note
+with a smile the dignified importance
+of Fuseli, painted by Harlow, or to
+turn to the last portrait of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds, painted by himself, and of
+which picture Mr. Ruskin once remarked,
+"How deaf he has drawn
+himself."</p>
+
+<p>Of the fashion in particular painters'
+works, Christie's rooms give a most
+instructive object-lesson. It is within
+the writer's memory when Romneys
+could be bought for £20 apiece, and
+now that they are fetching thousands,
+the wise will turn to some other master
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+at present neglected, and gather for
+his store pictures quite as full of beauty
+and truth, and whose price will not
+cause his heirs to blaspheme.</p>
+
+<p>A constant watchful attendance at
+Christie's is in itself a liberal education,
+and it seldom happens that those who
+know cannot during its pleasant season
+find "that grain of gold" which is
+often hidden away in a mass of mediocrity.
+And then those clever, courteous
+members of the great house are always
+ready to give the modest inquirer the
+full benefit of their vast knowledge,
+and, if necessary, will turn to their
+priceless records, and guide the timid,
+if appreciative, visitor into the right
+path of selection.</p>
+
+<p>What a delightful thing it is to be
+present at a field-day in King Street.
+The early lunch at the club&mdash;the settling
+into a backed-chair at the exactly
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+proper angle to the rostrum and the
+picture-stand. (The rostrum, by the
+way, was made by Chippendale for the
+founder of the house.) At one o'clock
+the great Mr. Woods winds his way
+through the expectant throng, and is
+promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps
+of which are as promptly tucked in and
+the business and pleasure of the afternoon
+begins. Mr. Woods, dominating
+his audience</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>gives a quick glance round the big
+room, now filled with well-known
+faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is
+often priceless. Sir William Agnew
+rubs shoulders with Lord Rosebery, and
+Sir T. C. Robinson whispers his doubts
+of a picture to a Trustee of the National
+Collection; old Mr. Vokins extols, if
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+you care to listen, the old English
+water-colourists, to many of whom he
+was a good friend, and Mr. George
+Redford makes some notes of the best
+pictures for the Press; but Mr. Woods'
+quiet incisive voice demands silence as
+Lot 1 is offered with little prefix, and
+soon finds a buyer at a moderate price.</p>
+
+<p>The catalogues, which read so pleasantly
+and convey so much within a
+little space, are models of clever composition,
+beginning with items of lesser
+interest and carefully leading up to the
+great attractions of the afternoon, which
+fall to the bid of thousands of guineas
+from some great picture-buyer, amidst
+the applause of the general crowd.</p>
+
+<p>A pure Romney, a winsome Gainsborough,
+a golden Turner, or a Corot
+full of mystery and beauty, will often
+evoke a round of hand-clapping when
+it appears upon the selling-easel, and a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+swift and sharp contest between two
+or three well-known connoisseurs will
+excite the audience like a horse-race, a
+fencing bout, or a stage drama.</p>
+
+<p>The history of Christie's is yet to
+be written, notwithstanding Mr. Redford's
+admirable work on "Art Sales,"
+and when it is written it should be one
+of the most fascinating histories of the
+nineteenth century; but where is the
+Horace Walpole to indite such a
+work? and who possesses the necessary
+materials?</p>
+
+<p>One curious little history I can tell
+concerning a sale in recent years of the
+Z&mdash;&mdash; collection of pictures and <i>objets
+d'art</i>, which will, to those who know it
+not, prove "a strange story."</p>
+
+<p>A former owner, distinguished by
+his social qualities and position, in a
+fit of passion unfortunately killed his
+footman. The wretched victim had no
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+friends, and was therefore not missed,
+and the only person, besides his slayer,
+aware of his death, and how it was
+caused, was the butler. The crime
+was therefore successfully concealed, and
+no inquiries made. But after a little
+time the butler began to use his knowledge
+for his own personal purposes.</p>
+
+<p>Putting the pressure of the blackmailer
+upon his unhappy master, he
+began to make him sing, by receiving
+as the price of his silence, first a fine
+picture or two, then some rare china,
+followed by art furniture, busts, more
+pictures, and more china, until he had
+well-nigh stripped the house.</p>
+
+<p>Still, like the daughter of the horse-leech,
+crying, "Give, give!" he made
+his nominal master assign to him the
+entire estates, reserving only to himself
+a life interest, which, in his miserable
+state of bondage, did not last long.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The chief butler on his master's
+death took his name and possessions,
+ousting the rightful heirs; and after
+enjoying a wicked, but not uncommon,
+prosperity with his stolen goods for
+some years, he also died in the odour
+of sanctity, and went to his own place.</p>
+
+<p>His successors, hearing uneasy rumours,
+determined to be rid of their tainted
+inheritance; so placed all the pictures
+and pretty things in the sale-market,
+and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten
+property.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_033.jpg" id="i_033.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_033.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_034a.jpg" id="i_034a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_034a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_III" id="CHAT_III">Chat No. 3.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+best holiday for an
+over-worked man, who has
+little time to spare, and
+who has not given "hostages
+to fortune," is to sail across the
+herring-pond on a Cunarder or White
+Star hotel, and so get free from newspapers,
+letters, visitors, dinner-parties,
+and all the daily irritations of modern
+life.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Those grand Atlantic rollers fill the
+veins with new life, the tired brain
+with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle
+days slip away all too soon, after which
+a short stay in New York or Boston
+City, and then back again.</p>
+
+<p>The study of character on board is
+always pleasant and instructive, and
+sometimes a happy friendship is begun
+which lasts beyond the voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Then, again, the cliques into which
+the passengers so naturally fall, is funny
+to watch. The reading set, who early
+and late occupy the best placed chairs,
+and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous
+literature, and are only roused
+therefrom by the ringing summons to
+meals; then there is the betting and
+gambling set, who fill card and smoking
+room as long as the rules permit, coming
+to the surface now and then for breath,
+and to see what the day's run has been,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
+or to organise fresh sweepstakes; then
+there is often an evangelical set, who
+gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted,
+and sing hymns, and address in
+fervid tones the sinners around them;
+then there are the gossips (most pleasant
+folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians,
+those who dress three times a
+day, and those who dress hardly at all:
+and so the drama of a little world is
+played before a very appreciative little
+audience.</p>
+
+<p>I remember on such a journey being
+greatly interested in the study of a
+delightful rugged old Scotch engineer,
+whose friendship I obtained by a genuine
+admiration for his devotion to his
+engines, and his belief in their personality.
+It was his habit in the evening,
+after a long day's run, to sit alongside
+these throbbing monsters and play his
+violin to them, upon which he was a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
+very fair performer, saying, "They deserved
+cheering up a bit after such a
+hard day's work!" This was a real and
+serious sentiment on his part, and inspired
+respect and an amused admiration
+on ours.</p>
+
+<p>The humours of one particular voyage
+which I have in my memory, were
+delightfully intensified by the presence
+on board of a very charming American
+child, called Flossie L&mdash;&mdash;, about fourteen
+years old, who by her capital
+repartees, acute observation, and pretty
+face, kept her particular set of friends
+very much alive, and made all who
+knew her, her devoted slaves and
+admirers.</p>
+
+<p>Her remark upon a preternaturally
+grave person, who marched the deck
+each day before our chairs, "that she
+guessed he had a lot of laughter coiled
+up in him somewhere," proved, before
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
+the voyage was over, to be quite
+true.</p>
+
+<p>It was this gentleman who, one
+morning, solemnly confided to a friend
+that he was a little suspicious of the
+drains on board!</p>
+
+<p>Americanisms, which are now every
+one's property, were at this time&mdash;I am
+speaking of twenty years ago&mdash;not so
+common, and glided from Flossie's
+pretty lips most enchantingly. To be
+told on a wet morning, with half a gale
+of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat
+and gum-boots" to meet the elements,
+was at that day startling, if useful,
+advice. She professed a serious attachment
+for a New York cousin, aged
+sixteen, "Because," she said, "he is
+so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars,
+reads novels, and runs away when
+offered candy." Her quieter moments on
+deck were passed in reading 'Dombey
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+and Son,' which, when finished, she
+pronounced to be all wrong, "only one
+really nice man in the book&mdash;Carker&mdash;and
+he ought to have married Floey."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hugh Childers, then First Lord
+of the Admiralty, was a passenger on
+board our boat, and having with infinite
+kindness and patience explained to the
+child our daily progress with a big
+chart spread on the deck and coloured
+pins, was somewhat startled to see her
+execute a <i>pas seul</i> over his precious
+map and disappear down the nearest
+gangway, with the remark, "My sakes,
+Mr. Childers, how terribly frivolous
+you are!"</p>
+
+<p>She had a youthful brother on board,
+who, one day at dinner, astonished his
+table by coolly saying, as he pointed
+to a most inoffensive old lady dining
+opposite to him, "Steward, take away
+that woman, she makes me sick!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A stout and amiable friend of
+Flossie's, who shall be nameless in
+these blameless records, on coming in
+sight of land assumed, and I fear did it
+very badly, some emotion at the first
+sight of her great country, only to be
+crushed by her immediate order, given
+in the sight and hearing of some hundred
+delighted passengers, "Sailor, give
+this trembling elephant an arm, I guess
+he's going to be sick!" Luckily for
+him the voyage was practically over,
+but for its small remnant he was known
+to every one on board as the trembling
+elephant.</p>
+
+<p>One day a pleasant little American
+neighbour at dinner touched one's
+sense of humour by naïvely saying,
+"If you don't remove that nasty little
+boiled hen in front of you, I know I
+must be ill."</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a dull and solemn prig
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+on board, who at every meal gave us,
+unasked, and <i>apropos des bottes</i>, some
+tremendous facts and statistics to digest,
+such as the number of shrimps eaten
+each year in London, or how many
+miles of iron tubing go to make the
+Saltash bridge. Finding one morning
+on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy
+of Whitaker's Almanack and a volume
+of Mayhew's "London Labour and
+the London Poor," we recognised the
+source of his elucidations, and promptly
+consigned his precious books to a
+watery grave. Of that voyage, so far as
+he was concerned, the rest was silence.</p>
+
+<p>Upon remarking to an American on
+board that the gentleman in question
+was rather slow, he brought down a
+Nasmyth hammer with which to crack
+his nut by saying, "Slow, sir; yes, he's
+a big bit slower than the hour hand of
+eternity!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I remember on another pleasant
+voyage to Boston meeting and forming
+lasting friendship with the late Judge
+Abbott of that city, whose stories and
+conversation were alike delightful. He
+spoke of a rival barrister, who once
+before the law courts, on opening his
+speech for the defence of some notorious
+prisoner, said, "Gentlemen, I shall
+divide my address to you into three
+parts, and in the first I shall confine
+myself to the <i>Facts</i> of this case;
+secondly, I shall endeavour to explain
+the <i>Law</i> of this case; and finally, I
+shall make an all-fired rush at your
+passions!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Judge Abbott who told me
+that when at the Bar he defended, and
+successfully, a young man charged with
+forging and uttering bank-notes for
+large values. After going fully into the
+case, he was entirely convinced of his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
+client's innocence, an impression with
+which he succeeded in imbuing the
+court. After his acquittal, his client, to
+mark his extreme sense of gratitude to
+his counsel's ability, insisted upon paying
+him double fees. The judge's
+pleasure at this compliment became
+modified, when it soon after proved
+that the said fees were remitted in
+notes undoubtedly forged, and for the
+making of which he had just been
+tried and found "not guilty!"</p>
+
+<p>Speaking one day of the general
+ignorance of the people one met, he
+very aptly quoted one of Beecher
+Ward's witty aphorisms, "That it is
+wonderful how much knowledge some
+people manage to steer clear of."
+Another quotation of his from the same
+ample source, I remember especially
+pleased me. Speaking of the morbid
+manner in which many dwelt persistently
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+on the more sorrowful incidents
+and accidents of their lives, he said,
+"Don't nurse your sorrows on your
+knee, but spank them and put them
+to bed!"</p>
+
+<p>On one visit to the States I took a letter
+of special commendation to the worthy
+landlord of the Parker House Hotel
+in Boston. On arriving I delivered my
+missive at the bar, was told the good
+gentleman was out, was duly allotted
+excellent rooms, and later on sat down
+with an English travelling companion
+to an equally excellent dinner in the
+ladies' saloon. In the middle of our
+repast we saw a small Jewish-looking
+man wending his way between the
+many tables in, what is literally, the
+marble hall, towards us. Standing
+beside our table, and regarding us with
+the benignant expression of an archbishop,
+he carefully, though unasked,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+filled and emptied a bumper of our
+well-iced Pommery Greno, saying,
+"Now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my
+name's Parker!"</p>
+
+<p>Upon a first visit to America few
+things are more striking than the originality
+and vigour of some of the advertisements.
+One advocating the use of
+some hair-wash or cream pleased us
+greatly by the simple reason it gave for
+its purchase, "that it was both elegant
+and chaste." Another huge placard
+represented our Queen Victoria arrayed
+in crown, robes, and sceptre, drinking
+old Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla out
+of a pewter pint-pot. I also saw a
+most elaborate allegorical design with
+life-size figures, purporting to induce
+you to buy and try somebody's tobacco.
+I remember that a tall Yankee, supposed
+to represent Passion, was smoking
+the said tobacco in a very fiery and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+aggressive manner, that with one hand
+he was binding Youth and Folly
+together with chains, presumably for
+refusing him a light, whilst with the
+other he chucked Vice under the chin,
+she having apparently been more amenable
+and polite.</p>
+
+<p>To note how customs change, I one
+day in New York entered a car in the
+Broadway, taking the last vacant seat.
+A few minutes, and we stopped again
+to admit a stout negress laden with her
+market purchases. The car was hot,
+and I was glad to yield her my seat, and
+stand on the cooler outside platform.
+She took it with a wide grin, saying
+with a dramatic wave of her dusky
+paw, "You, sir, am a gentleman, de
+rest am 'ogs!" a speech which would
+not so many years ago have probably
+cost her her life at the next lamppost.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A Washington doctor once told me
+the following little story, which seems
+to hold a peculiar humour of its own.
+A country lad and lassie, promised
+lovers, are in New York for a day's
+holiday. He takes her into one of those
+sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and
+pastry shops which abound, and asks
+her tenderly what she'll have? She
+thinks she'll try a brandied peach. The
+waiter places a large glass cylinder
+holding perhaps a couple of dozen of
+them on their table, so that they may
+help themselves. These peaches, be it
+known, are preserved in a spirituous
+syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed,
+and are very expensive. To
+the horror of the young man, the girl
+just steadily worked her way through
+the whole bottleful. Having accomplished
+this feat without turning a
+hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+delicate would-be sarcastic note, asks
+with effusion, if she won't try another
+peach? To which the girl coyly
+answers, "No thank you, I don't like
+them, the seeds scratch my throat!"</p>
+
+<p>As is well known, most of the waiters
+and servants in American hotels are Irish.
+Dining with a dear old Canadian friend
+at the Windsor Hotel in New York,
+we were particularly amused by the
+quaint look and speech of the Irish
+gentleman who condescended to bring
+us our dinner. He had a face like an
+unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling
+merry little blue eyes. Not feeling
+well, I had prescribed for myself a
+water diet during the meal, and hoped
+my guest would atone for my shortcomings
+with the wine. After he had
+twice helped himself to champagne,
+the while I modestly sipped my seltzer,
+my waiter's indignation at what he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+supposed was nothing less than base
+treachery, found vent in the following
+stage-aside to me: "Hev an oi,
+sorr, on your frind, he's a-gaining
+on ye!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_049.jpg" id="i_049.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_049.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_050.jpg" id="i_050.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_050.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_IV" id="CHAT_IV">Chat No. 4.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Give them strength to brook and bear,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Trial pain, and trial care;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Let them see Thy saving light;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Be Thou 'Watchman of their night.'</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sabbath Evening Song.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Armed</span>
+with a special order
+of the then Lord Mayor, Sir
+Robert Nicholas Fowler,
+I sallied forth one lovely
+blue day in June, and timidly rang the
+little brass bell beside the little green
+door giving into Newgate Prison.</p>
+
+<p>The gaol is now only used to house
+the prisoners on the days of trial, and
+for executions on the days of expiation;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+at other times, save for the presence of
+a couple of warders, it is entirely empty,
+and empty it was on this my day of call.</p>
+
+<p>Presenting my mandate to the very
+civil warder who replied to my summons,
+I was (he having to guard the
+door) handed to his colleague's care,
+to be shown the mysteries of this great
+silent tomb, lying so gloomily amid the
+City's stir.</p>
+
+<p>The first point of interest was the
+chapel, with that terribly suggestive
+chair, standing alone in the centre of
+the floor opposite the pulpit, on which
+the condemned used to sit the Sunday
+before his dreadful death, and, the observed
+of all the other prisoners, heard
+his own funeral sermon preached&mdash;a
+refinement of cruelty difficult to understand
+in this very Christian country.
+Then followed a visit to the condemned
+cells, two in number, and which are
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+situated far below the level of the outside
+street. They are small square
+rooms with whitewashed walls, enlivened
+by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen
+texts; in each is a fixed truckle
+bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat on
+either side. The warder in attendance
+stated that he had passed many nights
+in them with condemned prisoners, and
+had rarely found his charges either restless
+or unable to sleep well, long, and
+calmly!</p>
+
+<p>There is an old story told of a murderer,
+about whose case some doubt was
+raised, and to whom the prison chaplain,
+as he lay under sentence of death,
+lent a Bible. In due course a free
+pardon arrived, and as the prisoner left
+the gaol, he turned to the chaplain
+saying, "Well, sir, here's your Bible;
+many thanks for the loan of it, and I
+only hope I shall never want it again."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then we visited the pinioning room;
+this process is carried out by strapping
+on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat,
+with buckles at the back and outside
+sockets for the arms and wrists. While
+putting on one of these, I found the
+leather was cold and damp; it then
+occurred to me, with some horror, that
+it was still moist with the death-sweat
+of the executed.</p>
+
+<p>The scaffold stands alone across one
+of the yards, in a little wooden building
+not inappropriately like a butcher's
+shop. When used, the large shutter
+in front is let down, and the interior is
+seen to consist of a heavy cross-beam
+on two uprights, a link or two of chain
+in the middle, a very deep drop, with
+padded leather sides to deaden the
+sound of the falling platform, a covered
+space on one side for the coffin, and on
+the other a strong lever, such as is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+used on railways to move the points,
+and which here draws the bolt, releasing
+the platform on which the culprit
+stands; a high stool for the victim,
+should he prove nervous or faint&mdash;and
+that is all the furniture and fittings of
+this gruesome building.</p>
+
+<p>The dark cell is perhaps the most
+dreadful part of this peculiarly ghastly
+show, and after being shut in it for a
+few minutes, which seemed hours, one
+fully understood its terrific taming
+power over the most rebellious prisoners:
+you are literally enveloped in a sort of
+velvety blackness that can be felt,
+which, with the absolute and awful
+silence, seemed to force the blood to
+the head and choke one.</p>
+
+<p>Upon asking the warder to tell us
+something of the idiosyncrasies of the
+more celebrated criminals he had known,
+he stated that Wainright the murderer
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
+was the most talkative, vain, and boastful
+person he had seen there, that his
+craving for tobacco was curiously extreme,
+and he was immensely gratified
+when the governor of the prison promised
+him a large cigar the night before
+his execution. The promise kept, he
+walked up and down the yard with
+the governor, detailing with unctuous
+pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions,
+like another Pepys. "But,"
+added my informant, "the pleasantest,
+cheeriest man we ever had to hang in
+my time was Dr. Lampson, full of fun
+and anecdote, with nice manners that
+made him friends all round. He was
+outwardly very brave in facing his fate,
+and yet, as he walked to the scaffold,
+those behind him saw all the back
+muscles writhing, working, and twitching
+like snakes in a bag, and thus
+belying the calm face and gentle smile
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+in front. Ah! we missed him very
+much indeed, and were very sorry to
+lose him. A real gentleman he was
+in every way!"</p>
+
+<p>It was pleasant, and a vast relief after
+this strange experience, to emerge suddenly
+from this dream of mad, sad, bad
+things into the roar of the City streets,
+to see the blue sky, and find men's faces
+looking once again pleasantly into our
+own; but, nevertheless, Newgate should
+be seen by the curious, and those who
+can do so without coercion, before it
+disappears.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_056.jpg" id="i_056.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_056.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_057a.jpg" id="i_057a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_057a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_V" id="CHAT_V">Chat No. 5.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>To all their dated backs he turns you round:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_057b.jpg" alt="Letter I"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">It</span>
+is the present fashion to
+extol the old bookbinders
+at the expense of the
+living, and for collectors
+to give fabulous prices for a volume
+bound by De Thou, Geoffroy Tory,
+Philippe le Noir, the two Eves (Nicolas
+and Clovis), Le Gascon, Derome, and
+others.</p>
+
+<p>Beautiful, rare, and interesting as their
+work is, I venture to say that we have
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+modern bookbinders in England and
+France who can, and do, if you give
+them plenty of time and a free hand
+as to price, produce work as fine, as
+original, as closely thought out, as
+beautiful in design, material, and colour,
+as that of any of the great masters of
+the craft of olden days.</p>
+
+<p>For perfectly simple work of the best
+kind, examine the bindings of the late
+Francis Bedford; and his name reminds
+me of a curious freak of the late Duke
+of Portland in relation to this art. He
+subscribed for all the ordinary newspapers
+and magazines of the day, and
+instead of consigning them to the waste-paper
+basket when read, had them whole
+bound in beautiful crushed morocco
+coats of many colours by the said Bedford;
+then he had perfectly fitting oaken
+boxes made, lined with white velvet, and
+fitted with a patent Bramah lock and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+duplicate keys, each box to hold one
+volume, the total cost of thus habiting
+this literary rubbish being about £40
+a volume. Bedford kept a special staff
+of expert workmen upon this curious
+standing order until the Duke died. By
+his will he, unfortunately, made them
+heirlooms, otherwise they would have
+sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles
+liking to have possessed a volume
+with so odd a history. Soon after the
+Duke's death I went over the well-known
+house in Cavendish Square with
+my kind friend Mr. Woods of King
+Street, and he showed me piles of these
+boxes, each containing its beautifully
+bound volume of uselessness.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to our sheepskins. I
+would ask, where can you see finer
+workmanship than Mr. Joseph W.
+Zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting
+covers? He once produced two lovely
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+pieces of softly tanned, vellum-like
+leather of the purest white colour, and
+asked if I knew what they were. After
+some ineffectual guesses, he stated that
+the one with the somewhat coarser texture
+was a man's skin, and the finer
+specimen a woman's. The idea was
+disagreeable, and I declined to purchase
+or to have any volumes belonging to my
+simple shelves clothed in such garments.</p>
+
+<p>An English bookbinder who made
+a name in his day was Hayday; he
+flourished (as the biographical dictionaries
+are fond of saying) in the beginning
+of the present reign. I possess
+Samuel Rogers' "Poems" and "Italy,"
+in two quarto volumes, bound by him
+very charmingly. In this size Turner's
+drawings, which illustrate these two
+books, are shown to admiration, and
+alone galvanise these otherwise dreary
+works. Hayday was succeeded by one
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+Mansell, who also did some good work;
+but I think domestic affliction beclouded
+his later years, and affected his business,
+as I have lost sight of him for some
+years.</p>
+
+<p>Among other English bookbinders
+of the present day I would name Tout,
+whose simple, Quaker-like work, with
+Grolier tooling, is worth seeing. Mackenzie
+was, in his day, a good old
+Scotch binder; but the treasure I have
+personally found and introduced to
+many, is my excellent friend Mr. Birdsall
+of Northampton. His specialty is
+supposed to be in vellum bindings, which
+material he manipulates with a grace
+and finish very satisfactory to see. He
+can make the hinges of a vellum-bound
+book swing as easily as a friend's door.
+He spares no time, thought, or trouble
+in working out suitable designs for the
+books entrusted to his care. For instance,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+I possess Benjamin D'Israeli's
+German Grammar, used by him when
+a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved,
+he specially cast a brass stamp,
+with D'Israeli's crest, which, impressed
+adown the back and on the panels, correctly
+finishes this interesting memento.
+Then, again, when he had Beau Brummell's
+"Life" to work upon, he used
+dies representing a poppy, as an emblem
+flower, a money-bag, very empty, and
+a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these
+show thought, as well as a pleasant
+fancy, and greatly add to the interest
+of the completed binding.</p>
+
+<p>I have some work by M. Marius
+Michel, the great French binder, whose
+show-cases in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain,
+in Paris, were a treat to examine.
+He was kind enough to let me one
+fine day select and take therefrom two
+volumes of E. A. Poe's works translated
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+and noted by Beaudelaire, beautifully
+clothed by him; and he, at the same
+visit, gave me an autograph copy of
+his "L'Ornamentation des Reliures
+Modernes," with which, when I returned
+to England, I asked Mr. Birdsall to do
+what he could. Set a binder to catch
+a binder, was in this case our motto,
+and Mr. Birdsall has, I think, fairly
+caught out his great rival, although I
+have not yet had an opportunity of
+taking M. Michel's opinion upon the
+Englishman's work.</p>
+
+<hr class="sect" />
+
+<p>One of the leading characteristics of
+the present day is its craze for work,
+unceasing work, work early and late,
+work done with a rush, destroying
+nerves, and rendering repose impossible.
+"Late taking rest and eating the bread of
+carefulness" do not go together, the bread
+being as a rule anything but carefully
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+consumed. R. L. Stevenson somewhere
+says, "So long as you are a bit of a
+coward, and inflexible in money matters,
+you fulfil the whole duty of man," and
+perhaps this is the creed of the present
+race of over-workers. In the City of
+London we see this hasting to be rich
+brought to the perfection of a Fine Art
+(with a capital F and a capital A).</p>
+
+<p>Charles Dickens, who always resolved
+the wit of every question into a nutshell,
+makes Eugene Wrayburn, in
+"Our Mutual Friend," strenuously
+object to being always urged forward
+in the path of energy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing like work," said
+Mr. Boffin; "look at the bees!"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," returned
+Eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but
+will you excuse my mentioning that I
+always protest against being referred to
+the bees? ... I object on principle,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+as a two-footed creature, to being constantly
+referred to insects and four-footed
+creatures. I object to being required
+to model my proceedings according to
+the proceedings of the bee, or the dog,
+or the spider, or the camel. I fully
+admit that the camel, for instance, is
+an excessively temperate person; but
+he has several stomachs to entertain
+himself with, and I have only one."...</p>
+
+<p>"But," urged Mr. Boffin, "I said the
+bee, they work."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," returned Eugene disparagingly,
+"they work, but don't you think they
+overdo it? They work so much more
+than they need&mdash;they make so much
+more than they can eat&mdash;they are so
+incessantly boring and buzzing at their
+one idea till Death comes upon them&mdash;that
+don't you think they overdo it?"</p>
+
+<p>Some time since I cut from the pages
+of the <i>St. James' Gazette</i> the following
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+"Cynical Song of the City," which
+pleasantly sets forth the present craze
+for work, and again proves, like Dickens'
+bee, that we rather overdo it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Through the slush and the rain and the fog,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">When a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">To the City we jolt and we jog</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">On foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">To labour a few years, and then have done,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A capital prospect at twenty-one!</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There's a wife and three children to keep,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">With chances of more in the offing;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We've a house at Earl's Court on the cheap,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And sometimes we get a day's golfing.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Well! sooner or later we'll have better fun;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The heart is still hopeful at thirty-one.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The boy's gone to college to-day,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The girls must have ladylike dresses;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Thank goodness we're able to pay&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The business has had its successes;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We must grind at the mill for the sake of our son.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Besides, we're still youngish at forty-one.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It has come! We've a house in the shires,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">We're one of the land-owning gentry,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The children have all their desires,</div>
+	  <div class="verse indent1_5">But <i>we</i> must do more double-entry;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
+        We must keep things together, no time left for fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Ah! had we been twenty&mdash;not fifty&mdash;one!</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A Baronet! J.P.! D.L.!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">But it means harder work, little pleasure;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We must stick to the City as well,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Though we're tired and longing for leisure.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">As rich as the Bank, though we can't chew a bun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">At seventy&mdash;eighty&mdash;or ninety-one."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="sect" />
+
+<p>Guests at Foxwold are given the opportunity,
+when black Monday arrives,
+of catching a most unearthly and uneasily
+early train, which involves their
+rising with anything but a lark, swallowing
+a hurried breakfast, a mounting
+into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon
+after eight, and then being puffed away
+through South-Eastern tunnels to the
+busy hum of those unduly busy men of
+whom we speak.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To catch this early train, which
+means that you "leave the warm precincts
+of your cheerful bed, nor cast one
+longing lingering look behind," some
+of our friends most justly object, preferring
+the early calm, the well-considered
+uprisal, the dawdled breakfast,
+and the ladies' train at the maturer hour
+of 10.30. Our dear friend, Mr. Anstey
+Guthrie, having firmly and most wisely
+declined the early train and any consequent
+worm, one very chilly morn, as
+the early risers were starting for the
+station, appeared at his chamber window
+awfully arrayed in white, and muttering
+with the fervour of another John
+Bradford, "There goes Anstey Guthrie&mdash;but
+for the grace of God," plunged
+back into his rapidly cooling couch,
+"and left the world to darkness and
+to us."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_069a.jpg" id="i_069a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_069a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VI" id="CHAT_VI">Chat No. 6.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">"<i>It's idle to repine, I know;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>I'll tell you what I'll do instead,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>I'll drink my arrowroot, and go</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>To bed.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;C. S. C.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_069b.jpg" alt="Letter M"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">My</span>
+good and kind old friend
+Robert Baxter, who now
+rests from his labours, was,
+during his long active life
+in Westminster (dispensing law to the
+rich and sharing its profits with the
+poor), one of the most charitable and
+hospitable of men.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally, however, even his goodness
+was taxed with such severity, as to
+somewhat try his patience.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The once well-known Mrs. X&mdash;&mdash;
+of A&mdash;&mdash;, a philanthropic but foolish
+old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited,
+at his house in Queen's Square,
+suffering from the first symptoms of
+rheumatic fever. Calmly establishing
+herself in the best guest-chamber, and
+surrounded by the necessary maid,
+nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind
+host's dwelling into a private hospital
+for many weeks. When at last she
+reached the stage of convalescence, and
+was allowed to take daily outings and
+airings, Mr. Baxter's capital old butler,
+Sage, had the privilege of carrying the
+fair but weighty invalid downstairs to
+the carriage, and upstairs to her rooms
+once, and often twice, a day. No
+small effort for any man's strength,
+however athletic he might be, and
+Sage, be it conceded, was a moderate
+giant.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The weeks dragged themselves away,
+and at last the welcome date for a final
+flitting to her own home arrived. Sage
+felt that he had well earned an extraordinary
+douceur for all his labours,
+and was not therefore surprised when
+the good lady on leaving slipped into
+his willing hand a suggestive looking
+folded-up blue slip of paper instead of
+the more limited gold. Retiring to
+his pantry to satisfy his very natural
+curiosity as to the amount of the vail
+so fully deserved, his feelings may be
+imagined, but not described, when he
+found that instead of the expected
+cheque, it was what, in evangelical
+circles, is called a leaflet, bearing on
+its face the following appropriate and
+cheerful text: "Thou fool! this night
+thy soul shall be required of thee!"</p>
+
+<p>Whilst upon the subject of misapplied
+texts, another instance, touched
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+with a pleasant humour, occurs to me.
+Many years ago I visited for the first
+time an old friend and his wife in their
+pleasant country house. Upon being
+shown into what was evidently one of
+the best guest-chambers, I was intensely
+delighted to find over the mantelpiece
+the following framed text, in large
+illuminated letters: "Occupy till I
+come!" Unprepared to make so long
+a stay, I left on the Monday morning
+following, and have no doubt the generous
+invitation still remains to welcome
+the coming guest.</p>
+
+<p>Another story of a like nature was
+told us by Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and is
+therefore worth repeating. He once
+saw a long procession of happy school-children
+going to some feast, headed
+by a band of music and a standard-bearer.
+The latter was staggering beneath
+an immense banner, on which
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+was painted the Lion of Saint Mark's,
+rampant, with mouth, teeth, and claws
+ready and rapacious; underneath was
+the singularly appropriate and happy
+legend, "Suffer little children to come
+unto Me."</p>
+
+<p>Another capital story from the same
+source, which time cannot wither, nor
+custom stale, is, that at some small
+English seaside resort a spirited and
+generous townsman has presented a
+number of free seats for the parade,
+each one adorned with an iron label
+stating that "Mr. Jones of this town
+presented these free seats for the public's
+use, the sea is his, and he made it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_073.jpg" id="i_073.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_073.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="BOOK_ROOM_1" id="BOOK_ROOM_1"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_077.jpg"
+      alt="Book Room: 1st view" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+    <a name="i_074a.jpg" id="i_074a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_074a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VII" id="CHAT_VII">Chat No. 7.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Where are my friends? I am alone;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>No playmate shares my beaker:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some&mdash;before the Speaker:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And some compose a tragedy,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some compose a rondo;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And some draw sword for Liberty,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some draw pleas for John Doe.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">W. M. Praed.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">"<i>All analysis comes late.</i>"&mdash;<span class="smcap">Aurora Leigh.</span></p>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+difficulty which has
+existed since Lord Tennyson's
+dramatic death, of
+choosing a successor to
+the Laureateship, has partly arisen
+from the presence of so many minor
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+poets, and the absence, with one remarkable
+exception, of any monarch
+of song.</p>
+
+<p>The exception is, of course, Mr.
+Swinburne, who stands alone as the
+greatest living master of English verse.
+The objections to his appointment may,
+in some eyes, have importance, but time
+has sobered his more erratic flights,
+leaving a large residuum of fine work,
+both in poetry and prose, which would
+make him a worthy successor to any
+of those gone before.</p>
+
+<p>Of the smaller fry, it is difficult to
+prophesy which will hereafter come
+to the front, and what of their work
+may live.</p>
+
+<p>As Oliver Wendell Holmes so pathetically
+says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Deal gently with us, ye who read!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our largest hope is unfulfilled;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The promise still outruns the deed;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The tower, but not the spire we build.</div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+		Our whitest pearl we never find;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our ripest fruit we never reach;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The flowering moments of the mind,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Lose half their petals in our speech."</div>
+	</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The late Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith)
+was very unequal in all he produced.
+Perhaps the following ballad
+from his volume of "Selected Poems,"
+published in 1894 by Longmans, is one
+of the best and most characteristic he
+has written:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE WOOD DEVIL.</p>
+
+<p class="center">1.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"In the wood, where I wander'd astray,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Came the Devil a-talking to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">O mother! mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">But why did ye tell me, and why did they say,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That the Devil's a horrible blackamoor? He</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Black-faced and horrible? No, mother, no!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And how should a poor girl be likely to know</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That the Devil's so gallant and gay, mother?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">So gentle and gallant and gay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">With his curly head, and his comely face,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Mother! mother!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>II.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And 'Pretty one, whither away?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And shall I come with you?' said he.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">O mother! mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And so winsome he was, not a word could I say,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till I kiss'd him again,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And O, not till he left me I knew to my pain</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">'Twas the Devil that led me astray, mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">The Devil so gallant and gay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">With his curly head, and his comely face,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Mother! mother!"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Edmund Gosse's work is always
+scholarly and well thought out, framed
+in easy, pleasant English. In some of
+his poems he reminds one of the
+"Autocrat of the Breakfast Table."
+His song of the "Wounded Gull" is
+very like Dr. Holmes, both in subject
+and treatment:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"The children laughed, and called it tame!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">But ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Hung by its side; the gull was lame,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">A suffering and deserted thing.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+        <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+        With painful care it downward crept;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Its eye was on the rolling sea;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Close to our very feet, it stept</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Upon the wave, and then&mdash;was free.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Right out into the east it went</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Slowly it steered, in wonderment</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To find its enemies so meek.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Calmly it steered, and mortal dread</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It could but die, and being dead,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The open sea should be its tomb.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We watched it till we saw it float</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Almost beyond our furthest view;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It flickered like a paper boat,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Then faded in the dazzling blue.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It could but touch an English heart</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To find an English bird so brave;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Our life-blood glowed to see it start</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Thus boldly on the leaguered wave."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>A few fortunate persons possess copies
+of Mr. Gosse's catalogue of his library,
+and it is, I rejoice to say, on the Foxwold
+shelves. It is a most charming
+work, reflecting on every page, by many
+subtle touches, the refined humour and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+wide knowledge of the collector. Mr.
+Austin Dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf
+as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"I doubt your painful Pedants who</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Can read a dictionary through;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">But he must be a dismal dog,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Of the little mutual admiration and
+log-rolling society, whose headquarters
+are in Vigo Street, no serious account
+need be taken. Time will deal with
+these very minor poets, and whether
+kindly or not, Time will prove. They
+may possibly be able to await the verdict
+with a serene and confident patience&mdash;and
+so can we. An exception may
+perhaps be made for some of Mr. Arthur
+Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following
+extract will show:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Come to me out of the past, and I see her there</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As I saw her once for a while.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+  	    Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And still I hear her telling us tales that night,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Out of Boccaccio's book.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Leaning across the table, over the beer,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As the midnight hour drew near.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There with the women, haggard, painted, and old,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Tale after shameless tale.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Or ever the tale was done.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">O my child, who wronged you first, and began</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">First the dance of death that you dance so well?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Shall answer for yours in hell."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Austin Dobson and the late Mr.
+Locker-Lampson are perhaps the finest
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+writers of <i>vers de Société</i> since Praed;
+whilst in the broader school of humour
+C. S. Calverley, Mr. Dodgson (of
+"Alice in Wonderland" fame), and the
+late James Kenneth Stephen, stand alone
+and unchallenged; and Mr. Watson, if
+health serve, will go far; and so with
+some pathetic words of one of these
+moderns we will end this somewhat
+aimless chat:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">"My heart is dashed with cares and fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">My song comes fluttering and is gone;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Oh, high above this home of tears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1">Eternal joy,&mdash;sing on."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_085.jpg" id="i_085.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_085.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_086a.jpg" id="i_086a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_086a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VIII" id="CHAT_VIII">Chat No. 8.</a></h2>
+
+<p class="blockquote center">"<i>Punch! in the presence of the passengers.</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_086b.jpg" alt="Letter W"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Within</span>
+the past year certain
+gentle disputes and friendly
+discussions as to the origin
+of <i>Punch</i>, and who its
+first real editor was, and whether or no
+Henry Mayhew evolved it with the
+help of suitable friends in a debtor's
+prison, remind us that Foxwold possesses
+some rather curious "memories" of this
+famous paper.</p>
+
+<p>These disputes should now be put
+to rest for ever by Mr. Spielmann's
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+exhaustive "History of Mr. Punch,"
+which, it may safely be supposed, appeared
+with some sort of authority from
+"Mr. Punch" himself.</p>
+
+<p>One of our "Odds and Ends" is a
+kit-kat portrait in oil of Horace Mayhew,
+"Ponny," excellent both as a
+likeness and a work of art, which
+should eventually find hanging space
+in the celebrated <i>Punch</i> dining-room.
+There is also a pencil drawing of him,
+in which "the Count," as he was called,
+is dressed in the smartest fashion of that
+day, and crowned with a D'Orsay hat,
+resplendent, original, and gay.</p>
+
+<p>He made a rather unhappy marriage
+late in his life, and found that habits
+from which he was not personally free
+showed themselves rather frequently in
+his wife's conduct. One day, in a state
+of emotion and whisky and water, he
+pressed Mark Lemon's hand, and, bursting
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+into tears, murmured, "My dear friend,
+she drinks! she drinks!!" "All
+right," was the editor's cheery reply,
+"my dear boy; cheer up, so do you!"</p>
+
+<p>Near by hangs a characteristic pencil
+sketch of Douglas Jerrold, who, if small,
+was no hunchback (as has been lately
+stated), but was a very neatly made,
+active little man, with a grand head
+covered with a profusion of lightish
+hair, which he had a trick of throwing
+back, like a lion's mane, and a pair of
+bright piercing blue eyes. There is an
+engraving of a bust of him prefixed to
+his life (written by his son, Blanchard
+Jerrold), which well conveys the nobility
+of the well-set head. Then comes a
+capital drawing of Kenny Meadows in
+profile, and a thoroughly characteristic
+Irish phiz it is.</p>
+
+<p>These pencil portraits are all from
+the gifted hand of Mr. George Augustus
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+Sala, and formerly belonged to Horace
+Mayhew himself. Mr. Sala, as is now
+well known by means of his autobiography,
+was once an artist and book-illustrator,
+and Foxwold is the proud
+possessor of the only picture in oil
+extant from his brush. It is called
+"Saturday Night in a Gin-Palace":
+it is full of a Hogarthian power, and
+by its execution, drawing, and colour
+shows that had Mr. Sala made painting
+his profession instead of literature, he
+would have gone far and fared well.
+The little picture is signed "G. A.
+Sala," and was found many years ago in
+an old house in Brompton, when the
+present owner secured it for a moderate
+sum, and then wrote to Mr. Sala asking
+if the picture was authentic. A reply
+was received by the next post, in the
+beautiful handwriting for which he is
+famous, and runs as follows:&mdash;-</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <div class="margin-left-25 smcap"><span class="smcap">46 Mecklenburgh Square, W.C.</span>,</div>
+  <div class="right"><i>Tuesday, Twenty-fifth June 1878</i>.</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir,</span></p>
+
+<p>I beg to acknowledge receipt of
+your courteous and (to me) singularly interesting
+note.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the little old oil-picture of the
+'Gin-Palace Bar' is mine sure enough. I
+can remember it as distinctly as though it
+had been painted yesterday. Great casks of
+liquor in the background; little stunted
+figures (including one of a dustman with a
+shovel) in the foreground. Details executed
+with laborious niggling minuteness; but the
+whole work must be now dingy and faded
+to almost total obscuration, since I remember
+that in painting it I only used turpentine for
+a medium, the spirit of which must have
+long since 'flown,' and left the pigment flat
+or 'scaly.'</p>
+
+<p>"The thing was done in Paris six-and-twenty
+years ago (Ap. 1852), and being
+brought to London, was sold to the late
+Adolphus Ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing
+firm of Ackermann &amp; Co., 96
+Strand (premises now occupied by E.
+Rimmel, the perfumer), for the sum of five
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
+pounds. I hope that you did not give more
+than a few shillings for it, for it was a vile
+little daub. I was at the time when I produced
+it an engraver and lithographer, and
+I believe that Mr. Ackermann only purchased
+the picture with a view to encourage me to
+'take up' oil-painting. But I did not do so.
+I 'took up' literature instead, and a pretty
+market I have brought my pigs to! At all
+events, <i>you</i> possess the only picture in oil
+extant from the brush of</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Yours very faithfully,</p>
+<div class="right"><span class="smcap">George Augustus Sala</span>."</div>
+<p><i>To</i> <span class="smcap">H. N. Pym</span>, Esq.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">When Mr. Sala afterwards called to
+see the picture, he altered his mind as
+to its being "a vile little daub," and
+found the colours as fresh and bright as
+when painted. We greatly value it, if
+only as the cause of a lasting friendship
+it started with the artist.</p>
+
+<p>His own portrait by Vernet, in pen
+and ink, now graces our little gallery;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
+it is a back view, taken amidst his
+books, and a most characteristic and
+excellent likeness of this accomplished
+and versatile gentleman.<a name="fnanchor_1" id="fnanchor_1"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>One of our guest-chambers is solemnly
+dedicated to the honour and glory of
+"Mr. Punch," and on its walls hang
+some original oil sketches by John
+Leech, drawings by Charles Keene, Mr.
+Harry Furniss, Randolph Caldecote, Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, Mr. Anstey Guthrie,
+and Mr. Du Maurier; whilst kindly
+caricatures of some of the staff, and a
+print of the celebrated dinner-table,
+signed by the contributors, complete the
+decoration of a very cheery little room.</p>
+
+<h2>FOOTNOTE:</h2>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_1"
+id="footnote_1"></a><a href="#fnanchor_1">
+<span class="label">[1]</span></a>
+Whilst these pages are passing through the press, George Augustus
+Sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. An
+unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles,
+physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life
+in gloom: as Mr. Bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor
+of this volume, "It is so sad when the autumn of such a life is
+tempestuous."--<i>December 8, 1895.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_093.jpg" id="i_093.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_093.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_IX" id="CHAT_IX">Chat No. 9.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Then be contented. Thou hast got</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The most of heaven in thy young lot;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>There's sky-blue in thy cup!</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast&mdash;-</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>A sorry breaking-up.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;-<span class="smcap">Thomas Hood.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_057b.jpg" alt="Letter I"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">It</span>
+was my good fortune some short time since to
+revisit that most educational of English towns,
+Bedford, and having many years ago
+had the extreme privilege of being a
+Bedford schoolboy, I was able to draw
+a comparison between then and now.</p>
+
+<p>In the good old days these admirable
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+schools were managed in the good old
+way&mdash;plenty of classics, plenty of swishing,
+plenty of cricket and boating, and
+plenty of holidays. We sometimes
+turned out boys who afterwards made
+their mark in the big world, and the
+School Registers are proud to contain
+the names of such men as Burnell, the
+Oriental scholar, who out-knowledged
+even Sir William Jones in this respect;
+Colonel Fred. Burnaby, brave soldier
+and attractive travel writer; Inverarity,
+the lion-hunter and crack shot; Sir
+Henry Hawkins, stern judge and brilliant
+wit, and many others of like
+degree. Nor must we forgot that John
+Bunyan here learnt sufficient reading
+and writing to enable him in after years
+to pen his marvellous Book during his
+imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, which
+was then situated midway on the bridge
+over the river Ouse.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In that wonderful monument to the
+courage and enterprise of Mr. George
+Smith (kindest of friends and best of
+publishers), "The National Dictionary
+of Biography," the record is frequent
+of men who owed their education and
+perhaps best chance in the life they
+afterwards made a success, to Bedford
+School, but,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">As when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Yet still with their music is memory haunted,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">And oft in my dreams are their melodies heard."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>But if the good old School was a
+success in those bygone days, what
+must be said for it now, when, under
+the Napoleon-like administration of its
+present chief, the school-house has been
+rebuilt in its own park, upon all the
+best and latest known principles of
+comfort and sanitation, where a boy
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+can, besides going through the full
+round of usual study, follow the bent
+of his own peculiar taste, and find
+special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing
+or music, chemistry or wood-carving,
+ambulance work or drawing
+from the figure; whilst the beautiful
+river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields
+and football yards are crowded,
+and the bathing stations are a constant
+joy?</p>
+
+<p>Truly the present generation of Bedford
+boys are much blessed in their
+surroundings; and whilst they remember
+with gratitude the pious founder,
+Sir William Harper, should strive to
+do credit to his name and memory by
+the exercise of their powers in the
+battle of after-life, having received so
+thorough and broad-minded a training
+in the happy and receptive days of
+their youth.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bedford town is now one of the most
+strikingly attractive in England, with
+its fine river embankment, its grand
+old churches, its statues erected to the
+memory of the "inspired tinker," Bunyan,
+and the prison philanthropist,
+Howard, both of whom lived about a
+mile or so from the town, the former
+at Elstow, the latter at Cardington.
+It was very good and heart-restoring to
+revisit the hospitable old school with
+its pleasant surroundings and to find, as
+Robert Louis Stevenson says, that,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">Heroes and soldiers they all shall come home;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">Turning and churning that river to foam."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p>Since printing our last little "Tour
+Round the Bookshelves," in which we
+ventured to include some capital lines
+by our evergreen and many-sided
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+friend Rudolf Chambers Lehmann, he
+has again added to the interest of our
+Visitors' Book under the following circumstances.
+Guests and home-birds
+were all resting after the exhausting
+idleness of an Easter holiday when they
+were suddenly aroused from their day-dreams
+by loud cries of "Fire!" accompanied
+by the sound of horses and
+chariots approaching the house at full
+speed. On looking out, like Sister Anne
+or a pretty page, we were able to
+assuage our guests' natural alarm by
+explaining that the local fire brigade
+were practising upon our vile bodies
+and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger
+did not. On their ultimately retiring,
+satisfied with their mock efforts, and
+fortified by beer, our welcome guest
+wrote with his usual flying pen the
+following characteristic lines to commemorate
+their visit:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center">"FIRE! FIRE!!"</p>
+
+<p class="center">(AN EASTER MONDAY INCIDENT.)</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"A day of days, an April day;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Cool air without, and cloudless sun;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Within, upon the ordered tray,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Cakes, and the luscious Sally-Lunn.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Since Pym has walked, and Guthrie climbed</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To rob some feathered songster's nest,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Pour, lady, pour, and let them rest.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">But hark! what sound disturbs their tea,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And clatters up the carriage drive?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A dinner guest? it cannot be;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">No, no, the hour is only five.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">What sight is this the fates disclose,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">That breaks upon our startled view?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Two horses, countless yards of hose,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Nine firemen, and an engine too.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Where burns the fire? Tush, 'tis but sport;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The horses stop, the men descend,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Take hoses long, and hoses short,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And fit them deftly end to end.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Attention! lo their chieftain calls&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">They run, they answer to their names,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And hypothetic water falls</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">In streams upon imagined flames.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+	    Well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Accept, the peril past, our thanks;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Though all your toil was only fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And air was all that filled your tanks:</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">No, not for nought you came and dared,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Return in peace, and drink your fill;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It was, as Mrs. Pym declared,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">'A highly interesting drill.'"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<p class="blockquote"><i>April 3, 1893.</i></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Another poet whose pen sometimes
+gilds our modest Record of Angels'
+Visits, is a well-beloved cousin, Harry
+Luxmoore by name, at Eton known so
+well. His Christmas greeting for 1890
+shall here appear, and prove to him
+how deep is Foxwold's affectionate
+obligation for wishes so delightfully
+expressed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">"Glooms overhead a frozen sky,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And somewhere sleeps the coming birth.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Folded in root and grain is lying,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The bud, the bloom we soon may see,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And in the old year now a-dying</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Is hid the new year that shall be.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
+	    O what if snows be deep? so shrouded</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Matures the soil with promise rife</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And sap, for all the skies be clouded,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Ripens at heart a lustier life.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Then welcome winter&mdash;while we shiver</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Strength harbours deeper, and the blast</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Of sounder, manlier force the giver</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Strips off betimes our withered past.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Come weal, come woe, as best may be,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Still may the New Year's hidden dower</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Be good for you and Horace, and all the little ones, and good for me."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_101.jpg" id="i_101.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_101.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_102.jpg" id="i_102.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_102.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_X" id="CHAT_X">Chat No. 10.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+The following graphic account
+of the rising in
+Paris in 1848 was written
+by John Poole to Charles
+Dickens, and was recently found amongst
+the papers of Mrs. John Forster, the
+widow of the well-known writer,
+Dickens' friend and biographer, and
+is, I think, worthy of print.</p>
+
+<p>John Poole was a sometime celebrated
+character, having written that
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+evergreen play "Paul Pry," as well as
+"Little Pedlington," and other humorous
+works mostly now forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>As he grew old poverty came to bear
+him company, and was only prevented
+from causing him actual suffering by
+the usual generosity of Dickens and
+other members of that charmed circle,
+further aided by a small Government
+grant, obtained for him by the same
+faithful friend from Lord John Russell.</p>
+
+<p>The letter is addressed to</p>
+
+<p>CHARLES DICKENS, Esq.,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-25 smcap">No. 1 Devonshire Terrace,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50"><span class="smcap">York Gate, Regent's Park</span></p>
+<p class="right">LONDON,</p>
+
+<p>and deals with the celebrated uprisal
+of the French mob, when a force of
+75,000 regulars and nearly 200,000
+National Guards was massed round
+Paris to resist it. The carnage was
+terrible, some 8000 persons being killed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+on both sides, and 14,000 insurgents
+made prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>It was only by General Cavaignac's
+firmness and tactful management under
+Lamartine's directions, that the mob was
+reduced and the Republican Government
+established. The general was
+afterwards nearly elected President of the
+French Republic, receiving 1,448,000
+votes, but Prince Louis Napoleon beat
+him, and, as history tells, held the reins
+in various capacities for the next twenty
+eventful years.</p>
+
+<p>Poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness,
+gives a remarkably clear impression
+of the scene as it appeared in
+his orbit. Dickens, on receiving it,
+evidently sent it the round of his
+friends, and it then remained in John
+Forster's possession until his death.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <p class="right topspacing2">"(<span class="smcap">
+    Paris</span>), <i>Saturday, 8 Jul 1848</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Dickens</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I wrote to you through the Embassy
+on the 22nd June, giving you an address for
+the three last Dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue
+of the ex-King's wine; and on the
+16th I sent you a word in a letter to Macready.
+Dombeys not yet arrived, and I shall
+wait no longer to acknowledge their arrival
+(as I have been doing), but at once proceed
+to give you a few lines. Since the day of
+my writing to you I have lived four years:
+Friday (the 23rd), Saturday, Sunday, Monday,
+each a year.</p>
+
+<p>"The proceedings of the three days of
+February were mere child's-play compared
+with these. Never shall I forget them, for
+they showed me scenes of blood and death.
+Friday morning the '<i>rappel</i>' was beat&mdash;always
+a disagreeable hint. Presently I heard
+discharges of musketry, then they beat the
+'<i>générale</i>.' My <i>concierge</i> ran into my
+room, and, with a long white face, told me
+the mob had erected huge barricades in the
+Faubourg-Saint-Denis, and above, down to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+the Porte St. Denis, and that tremendous
+fighting was going on there. (The Porte
+St. Denis bears marks of the fray.) 'Then,
+Madame Blanchard,' I said, 'as you seem to
+be breaking out again, I shall take a <i>sac-de-nuit</i>,
+and say adieu to you till you shall
+have returned to your good behaviour.'&mdash;'But
+monsieur could not get away for love
+or money&mdash;the insurgents have possession of
+the Chemin de Fer, and had torn up the
+rails as far as St. Denis.' This was what
+she had been told, so I went out to ascertain
+the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible to approach that quarter,
+and difficult to turn the corner of a street
+without interruption&mdash;groups of fifteen,
+twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all
+about. Towards evening matters seemed
+rather more tranquil, and between six and
+seven o'clock I contrived (though not easily)
+to make my way to Sestels, in the Rue St.
+Honoré (one of the very best of the second-rate
+restaurateurs in Paris, 'which note').
+The large saloon was filled with men in
+uniform, National Guards chiefly, and only
+two women there. I was there about an
+hour, and in that time three dead bodies
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+were carried past on covered litters. It was
+thought the disturbances were pretty well
+over, as a powerful body of troops had been
+ordered down to the scene of action.</p>
+
+<p>"At about eight o'clock I went out for
+the purpose of making a visit in the Rue
+d'Enghien, but found the whole width of
+the Boulevard Montmartre, which, as you
+know, leads to the Boulevard St. Denis,
+defended by a compact body of National
+Guards&mdash;impassable! Between nine and ten
+o'clock three regiments of cavalry, with
+cannon&mdash;a long, long procession&mdash;marched
+in the direction of the scene of insurrection.
+This was a comforting sight, and as such
+everybody seemed to consider it, and I went
+home. And this was Midsummer Eve!&mdash;Walpurgis
+Night!</p>
+
+<p>"The next day, Saturday, Midsummer Day,
+I never shall forget! Sleep had been hopeless&mdash;the
+night had been disturbed by the
+frequent beating of the '<i>générale</i>' and the
+cry '<i>Aux Armes!</i>' Every now and then I
+looked up at the sky, expecting to see it red
+from some direful conflagration. Day came,
+and soon the firing of musketry was heard,
+now from the direction of the Faubourg-Saint-Antoine,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+now from the Faubourg-Saint-Marceaux.
+Then came the heavy booming of
+cannon&mdash;death in every echo! From twelve
+till nearly one, and again after a pause, it
+was dreadful. (I cannot make 'fun' of this,
+like the facetious correspondent of the
+<i>Morning Post</i>. Who is he? Surely he
+must be an ex-reporter for the Cobourg
+Play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house
+quotations. I am utterly disgusted
+and revolted at the tasteless levity with which
+he describes scenes of blood and destruction
+and death, and so treats of matters, all of
+which require grave and sober handling.
+And then he describes, as an eye-witness,
+things which, happen though they did, I am
+certain he could not have been present to see.)</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as we were soon to be in a state
+of siege, and strictly confined to home, I can
+tell you nothing but what I saw here on this
+very spot. One event is a remembrance for
+life. In this house lived General de Bourgon,
+one of what they call the 'old Africans.'
+In the course of the morning General Korte
+(another of them) called on him, and said,
+'I dare say Cavaignac has plenty to do. I will
+go and ask him if we can be of any service
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+to him. If we can, I will send for you, so
+keep yourself in the way.' He was in Paris
+'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so he
+sent Blanchard (the <i>concierge</i>) to the <i>manège</i>,
+which is in the next street, to inquire whether
+they had a horse that would 'stand fire.'
+Yes; but they would not let it go out. The
+next message intimated that they must send
+it, or it would be taken by force. At about
+two o'clock, going out, I met, coming out of
+his apartments on the second floor (I, you
+know, am on the fourth), General de Bourgon,
+in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and
+his sister-in-law&mdash;the latter a very beautiful
+woman, somewhat in the style of Mrs. Norton.
+As usual, we exchanged <i>bon-jours</i> in passing.
+I went as far as the boulevard at the
+end of the street. There was a strong guard
+at the 'Hôtel des Affaires Étrangères,' and
+there I was stopped. An officer of the
+National Guard asked me whether I was
+proceeding in the direction of my residence.
+Answering in the negative, he said (but
+with great courtesy), 'Then, sir, I advise
+you to return; it is in your interest I do
+so; besides' (pointing in the direction
+where was heard a heavy firing), 'd'ailleurs,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour de
+promenade.'</p>
+
+<p>"I returned, and tried by the Place Vendôme,
+but about half-way up the Rue de la
+Paix was again stopped. After loitering
+about for an hour, and unable to get anything
+in the shape of positive information,
+I returned home. Shortly after three I saw
+the General de Bourgon in full uniform, and
+on horseback. He proceeded a few paces,
+stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers
+adjusted, and then, followed by an orderly,
+went off at a brisk trot. Soon afterwards a
+guard was placed in the middle and at each
+end of this street; no one was allowed to
+loiter, or to quit it but with good reason,
+and only then was passed on by one sentinel
+to the next, so from that moment I was not
+out of the house till Monday morning.</p>
+
+<p>"At about half-past six the street&mdash;usually
+a noisy one&mdash;being perfectly still, I heard the
+measured tramp of feet approaching from
+the direction of the boulevard. I went to
+the window, and saw about fifteen or eighteen
+soldiers, some bearing, and the rest
+guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a
+wounded officer. He was bare-headed, his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+black stock had been removed, his coat
+thrown wide open, and over his left thigh
+was spread a soldier's grey greatcoat. To
+my horror the procession stopped at this
+door. It was the General brought home
+desperately wounded! I ran down and saw
+him brought up to his apartment, crying out
+with agony at every shake he received on the
+winding, slippery staircase. On the following
+Friday (the 30th), at eleven o'clock at
+noon, after severe suffering, he died. In the
+course of the day I saw him; his neck was
+uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had
+been making a sketch of him)&mdash;he looked
+like one in placid contemplation. Previously
+to the fatal result, at one of my frequent
+visits of inquiry, I saw Madame de Bourgon
+(the sister-in-law). She replied mournfully,
+but without apparent emotion, 'We are in
+hopes they will be able to perform the amputation
+to-morrow.' (They could not.)
+'But see! he has passed his life, as it were,
+on the field of battle&mdash;twelve years in Africa&mdash;and
+to fall in this way! But it was his
+duty to go out.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And, madame, how is she?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Eh, mon Dieu, monsieur! how would
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+you have her be? But a soldier's wife must
+be prepared for these things.'</p>
+
+<p>"(She, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the
+general's brother, Colonel de Bourgon.)
+His friend, General Korte, too, was wounded,
+but not dangerously.</p>
+
+<p>"In all the African campaigns only two
+generals were killed, in these street fights
+six! But the insurgents fought at tremendous
+advantage. On that said Saturday
+afternoon two incidents occurred, trifling if
+you will, but they struck me. A large
+flight of crows passed over, taking a direction
+towards the prison of St. Lazare, showing
+that fighting was murderous; and a
+rainbow (one of the most beautiful I ever
+saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof
+of the opposite houses. Beneath it seemed
+to come the noise of the fight; the sign of
+peace and the sounds of war and death. Mrs.
+Norton could make a verse or two out of
+this. This was Midsummer's Day!</p>
+
+<p>"Our Midsummer Night's dreams were
+not pleasant, believe me. No&mdash;there was
+no sleep on that night&mdash;a night of terrible
+anxiety. Paris was in a state of siege&mdash;no
+one allowed to be out of the house, nor a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
+window permitted to be opened. All night
+was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel
+under my very window&mdash;'Sentinelle
+prenez garde à vous.' I can hardly describe
+by words the peculiar tone in which this
+was uttered, but the syllable 'nelle' was
+accented, and the word 'vous' was uttered
+briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark.
+This was given <i>fortissimo</i>&mdash;repeated by the
+next <i>forte</i>&mdash;beyond him, <i>piano</i>&mdash;further on,
+<i>pianissimo</i>&mdash;till it returned, louder and
+louder, and then died away again, and so
+on, and on, and on till daybreak. Then
+was beat the '<i>rappel</i>'&mdash;then the '<i>générale</i>'&mdash;then
+again the firing.</p>
+
+<p>"This was Sunday morning, and from five
+o'clock till ten at night was not the happiest,
+but the longest day of my life. Any sort of
+occupation was out of the question. Each
+hour appeared a day. Impossible to get out,
+or to receive a visit, or to send a message,
+or to procure any reliable information as to
+what was going on, or how or when these
+doings were likely to end. All was doubt,
+uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable.
+The only information to be procured was
+from the bearers of some wounded men as
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+they passed now and then to the Ambulance
+(the temporary hospital established at the
+Church of the Assumption). But no two
+accounts were alike. I was suffering deep
+anxiety concerning a good kind French family
+of my acquaintance, living within a five
+minutes' walk of this place. 'Could I by
+any possibility procure a commissionaire to
+carry a note for me? I'll give him five
+francs (the hire being ten sous).' 'Not,
+sir,' said my <i>concierge</i>, 'if you would give
+a hundred!' The poor general wanted
+some soldiers from the barracks (next to the
+Assumption) to carry an order for him.
+After great difficulty the wife of the <i>concierge</i>
+was allowed to go and fetch one; but
+she was searched for ammunition by the first
+sentinel, and then passed on thus and back
+again from one to another. No post in&mdash;no
+letters&mdash;no newspapers. At length, at a
+month's end, night came. That night like
+the last&mdash;'Sentinelle prenez garde à vous,'
+&amp;c. &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>"On Monday morning (26th), after a
+sleepless night&mdash;for, for any means we had
+of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents
+might at any moment be expected to attack
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+this quarter, a quarter marked down by
+them for fire and pillage&mdash;at about eight
+o'clock, I lay down on a sofa and slept
+soundly till ten; I awoke, and was struck by
+the appalling silence! This is a noisy street.
+Always from about seven in the morning till
+late in the day one's head is distracted by
+the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these
+are now added the cries of the vendors of
+cheap newspapers), the passage of carriages
+and carts of all descriptions, street-singers,
+organ-grinders endless, the screeching of
+parrots and barking of dogs exposed for sale
+by a <i>grocer</i> on the opposite side of the way,
+together with the swarming of his and his
+neighbour's dirty children&mdash;all was hushed;
+not a footfall, 'not (a line that is not
+often applicable here) a drum was heard.'
+Yes, I repeat it, this universal silence was
+appalling! Not a person, save the still
+guards on duty, was to be seen. The shops
+were all closed, and, but for this circumstance,
+it seemed like a Sunday! Strange!
+(and I find it was the same with many other
+persons to whom I have mentioned the circumstance)
+I was uncertain during these
+anxious days as to the day of the week. At
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+about eleven o'clock the <i>concierge</i> came to
+tell me that the insurrection was at an end.
+In less than an hour there was heard a sharp
+fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction
+of the Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The
+insurgents had strengthened themselves at that
+point (she came to say), but that, so far as
+she could learn, General Cavaignac had at
+length resolved, by bombarding the <i>quartier</i>,
+to suppress the insurrection before the day
+should end. <i>And he did!</i></p>
+
+<p>"Frequently during the day parties of
+tired soldiers, scarcely able to walk, passed on
+their way from the scene of action to their
+barracks or their bivouac; wounded men
+were every now and then brought to the
+Ambulance close by&mdash;one a Cuirassier, who,
+as the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and
+just raised his hand in sign of recognition,
+which fell again at his side; and, most striking
+of all, bands of prisoners from among
+the insurgents!! Among them such hideous
+faces! scarcely human! No one knows
+whence they come. Like the stormy petrel,
+they only are seen in troubled times. I saw
+some such in the days of February, but never
+before, nor afterwards, till now. Imagine
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+O. Smith, well "made-up" for one of the
+bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody
+melodramas&mdash;a Parisian dandy compared
+with some of these. Some of them naked to
+the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard
+matted and of incalculable growth, bloodshot
+eyes, scowling ferocious brutes, their
+tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder&mdash;creatures
+to look at and shudder! And
+into their hands was Paris and its peaceable
+honest inhabitants threatened to fall. With
+this I end.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever, my dear Dickens,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50">Cordially and sincerely yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">John Poole</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">"I began this on Saturday, and have been
+writing it, as best as I can, till now, Tuesday,
+three o'clock. Pray acknowledge the receipt
+when or if you receive it. This is a general
+letter to you all. If Forster thinks any
+paragraph of this worthy the <i>Examiner</i>, he
+may use it. Why does not the rogue write
+to me? Has he, or can he have, taken huff
+at anything? though I cannot imagine why
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+or at what. But <i>nobody</i> writes to me. I can
+and will, some day, tell you a comic incident
+connected with all this, but it would not
+have been in keeping with the rest of this
+letter. Paris is now quiet, but very dull."</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_118.jpg" id="i_118.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_118.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_119a.jpg" id="i_119a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_119a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XI" id="CHAT_XI">Chat No. 11.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"<i>All round the house is the jet black night;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>It stares through the window-pane;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And it moves with the moving flame</i>.</div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And all round the candle the crooked shadows come</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And go marching along up the stair.</i></div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>The shadow of the child that goes to bed&mdash;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>With the black night overhead.</i>"</div>
+	</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_119b.jpg" alt="Letter O"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">On</span>
+the beautiful rocks of Red Head, near Arbroath,
+and surrounded by the glamour of Sir Walter
+Scott's "Antiquary," which was written
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+in the alongside village of Auchmithie,
+and the plot and incidents of which are
+principally placed here, stands Ethie
+Castle, the Scotch home of the Earls of
+Northesk, and once one of the many
+residences of Cardinal Beaton, whose
+portrait by Titian hangs in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the quaint old rooms have
+secret staircases at the bed-heads leading
+to rooms above or below, and forming
+convenient modes of escape if the
+occupants of the middle chambers were
+threatened with sudden attack. There
+are also some dungeon-like rooms
+below, with walls of vast thickness, and
+"squints" through which to fire arrows
+or musket-balls. The castle has been
+greatly improved and partly restored
+by its last owner, without removing
+or destroying any of its characteristic
+points.</p>
+
+<p>Searching, when a guest there some
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+years ago, amongst the literary and other
+curious remains, which add a great
+charm to this most interesting house,
+the writer was impressed with the
+following characteristic letter from
+Charles II. to the then Lord Northesk,
+which he was permitted to copy, and
+now to print. The letter is curious, as
+showing the evident belief that the
+King held in his Divine right to interfere
+with his subjects' affairs.</p>
+
+<p>It is a holograph, beautifully written
+in a small clear hand&mdash;-not unlike that
+of W. M. Thackeray&mdash;-and has been
+fastened with a seal, still unbroken, no
+larger than a pea, but which nevertheless
+contains the crown and complete
+royal arms, and is a most beautiful
+specimen of seal-engraving. It would
+be interesting to know if this seal still
+exists amongst the curiosities at Windsor
+Castle:&mdash;-</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Whitehall</span>, 20 <i>Nov</i>. 1672.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My Lord Northesk</span>,<br />
+
+I am so much concerned in my
+L<sup>d</sup> Balcarriess that, hearing he is in suite of
+one of your daughters, I must lett you know,
+you cannot bestow her upon a person of
+whose worth and fidelity I have a better
+esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend
+to you and your Lady, your franck
+compliance with his designe, and as I do
+realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to
+do him good as occasion offers, as well for
+his father's sake as his owne, so if you and
+your Lady condescend to his pretension, and
+use him kindly in it, I shall take it very
+kindly at your hands, and reckon it to be
+done upon the accounte of</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your affectionate frinde,</p>
+
+<p class="right smcap">Charles R."</p>
+
+<p><i>For the</i> <span class="smcap">Earle of Northesk</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Looking at the fine portrait of the
+recipient of this royal request, which
+hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting
+expression of the otherwise
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+handsome face, it is not difficult to presume
+that he somewhat resented this
+interference with his domestic plans.
+No copy of Lord Northesk's reply
+exists, but its contents may be guessed
+by the second letter from Whitehall,
+this time written by Lord Lauderdale:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Whitehall</span>, 18 <i>Jany</i>. 1673.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,<br />
+Yesterday I received yours of the
+7th instant, and, according to your desire, I
+acquainted the King with it. His Majesty
+commanded me to signify to you that he is
+satisfied. For as he did recommend that
+marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to
+both parties, so he did not intend to lay any
+constraint upon you. Therfor he leaves you
+to dispose of your daughter as you please.
+This is by His Majesty's command signified
+to your Lordship by,</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-10">My Lord,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your Lordship's most humble servant,</p>
+<p class="right smcap">Lauderdale."</p>
+<p class="smcap">Earl Northesk.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">As, however, the marriage eventually
+did take place, let us hope that the
+young couple arranged it themselves,
+without any further expression of Royal
+wishes by the evidently well-meaning,
+if somewhat imperative, King.</p>
+
+<p>Ethie has, of course, its family legends
+and ghosts&mdash;what old Scotch house is
+without them?&mdash;but the following,
+which I am most kindly permitted to
+repeat, is so curious in its modern
+confirmation, that it is well worth
+adding to the store of such weird
+narratives.</p>
+
+<p>Many years ago, it is said that a
+lady in the castle destroyed her young
+child in one of the rooms, which afterwards
+bore the stigma of the association.
+Eventually the room was closed,
+the door screwed up, and heavy wooden
+shutters were fastened outside the
+windows. But those who occupied the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+rooms above and below this gruesome
+chamber would often hear, in the
+watches of the night, the pattering of
+little feet over the floor, and the sound
+of the little wheels of a child's cart
+being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity
+connected with this sound being, that
+one wheel creaked and chirruped as it
+moved. Years rolled by, and the room
+continued to bear its sinister character
+until the late Lord Northesk succeeded
+to the property, when he very wisely
+determined to bring, if possible, the
+legend to an end, and probe the
+ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious
+base.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently he had the outside
+window shutters removed, and the
+heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then,
+with some members of his family
+present, ordered the door to be forced
+back. When the room was open and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>
+birds began to sing, it proved to be
+quite destitute of furniture or ornament.
+It had a bare hearth-stone, on which
+some grey ashes still rested, and by the
+side of the hearth was a child's little
+wooden go-cart on four solid wooden
+wheels!</p>
+
+<p>Turning to his daughter, my lord
+asked her to wheel the little carriage
+across the floor of the room. When
+she did so, it was with a strange sense
+of something uncanny that the listeners
+heard one wheel creak and chirrup as
+it ran!</p>
+
+<p>Since then the baby footsteps have
+ceased, and the room is once more
+devoted to ordinary uses, but the
+ghostly little go-cart still rests at Ethie
+for the curious to see and to handle.
+Many friends and neighbours yet
+live who testify to having heard the
+patter of the feet and the creak of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+the little wheel in former days, when
+the room was a haunted reality, but
+now the</p>
+
+<div class="center">"Little feet no more go lightly,</div>
+<div class="margin-left-50">Vision broken!"</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_127.jpg" id="i_127.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_127.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_128.jpg" id="i_128.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_128.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XII" id="CHAT_XII">Chat No. 12.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent10">"<i>I work on,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>Through all the bristling fence of nights and days,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>Which hedge time in from the eternities.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;Mrs. <span class="smcap">Browning</span>.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+late Cardinal Manning
+always felt a great interest
+in our parish of Brasted.
+In former times it formed
+part of Hever Chase, the property of
+Sir Thomas Boleyn (the father of Queen
+Anne Boleyn), who lived at Hever
+Castle, about four miles from Brasted,
+a fine Tudor specimen of domestic
+architecture, which is now somewhat
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+jealously shown to the public on certain
+days. Hever Castle is the original
+of Bovor Castle, immortalised by Mr.
+Burnand in his wonderful "Happy
+Thoughts."</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal's father, who was at
+one time an opulent city merchant,
+and sometime Governor of the Bank of
+England, owned the estate of Combe
+Bank, formerly the English location of
+the Argyll family, whose Duke sat in
+the House of Lords, until quite a recent
+date, as Baron Sundridge, the name of
+the adjacent village.</p>
+
+<p>In Sundridge Church are some family
+busts of the Argylls by Mrs. Dawson
+Damer, who stayed much at Combe
+Bank, and who lies buried with all
+her graving and sculpting tools in
+Sundridge churchyard.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal and his elder brother,
+Charles Manning, passed some youthful
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+years in this house, and when financial
+trouble overtook their father, and he
+was obliged to part with the property,
+it became the ever-present desire and
+day-dream of the elder son to succeed
+in life and repurchase the place. He
+succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a
+very long and happy one; but he never
+became the owner of Combe Bank, the
+hope to do so only fading with his
+life.</p>
+
+<p>He owned, or leased, a pleasant old
+house at Littlehampton; and if his
+brother, the Cardinal, was in need of
+rest, he would lend it to him, when
+the Cardinal's method of relaxation was
+to go to bed in a sea-looking room, and,
+with window open, read, write, and
+contemplate for some three or four days
+and nights, and then arise refreshed like
+a giant, and return to the manifold
+duties waiting for him in town.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal's home in London was
+formerly the Guard's Institute in the
+Vauxhall Bridge Road, which, failing in
+its first intention, was purchased as the
+palace for the then newly-elected Cardinal-Archbishop
+of Westminster. It
+proved to be rather a dreary, draughty,
+uncomfortable abode, but having the
+advantage of a double staircase and some
+large reception rooms, was useful for
+the clerical assemblies he used to invoke.</p>
+
+<p>I had the privilege, without being a
+member of his church, of being allowed
+to attend the meetings of the <i>Academia</i>
+which the Cardinal held every now and
+then during the London season. His
+friends would gather in one of the big
+rooms a little before eight in the evening,
+and sit in darkened circles around
+a small centre table, before which a
+high-backed carved chair stood. The
+entire light for the apartment proceeded
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+from two big silver candlesticks on the
+table. As the clock chimed eight, the
+Cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and
+skull-cap, would glide into the room,
+and standing before the episcopal chair,
+murmur a short Latin prayer, after
+which the discussion of the evening
+would begin; when all that wished
+had had their little say, the Cardinal
+replied to the points raised by the
+various speakers, and closed the debate;
+after which he held a sort of informal
+reception, welcoming individually every
+guest.</p>
+
+<p>No one but a Rembrandt could give
+the beautiful effect of the half-lights
+and heavy black shadows of this striking
+gathering, with its centre of colour
+and light in the tall red figure of
+the Cardinal, his noble face and picturesque
+dress forming a mind-picture
+which can never fade from the memory.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+The strong theatrical effect, combined
+with the real simplicity of the scene,
+the personal interest of many of those
+who took part in the discussion, the
+associations with the past, the speculation
+whither the innovation of the
+installation of a Roman Catholic Archbishop
+in Westminster was tending,
+giving the observer bountiful food for
+much solemn thought.</p>
+
+<p>Upon our book-shelves repose four
+volumes of the Cardinal's sermons,
+preached when a member of the Church
+of England, and Archdeacon of Chichester.
+They were bought at Bishop
+Wilberforce's sale, who was the Cardinal's
+brother-in-law, and contain the
+autograph of William Wilberforce, the
+bishop's eldest brother. Upon the same
+shelf will be found a copy of "Parochial
+Sermons" by John Henry Newman,
+Vicar of St. Mary the Virgin's,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+Oxford. This volume formerly belonged
+to Bishop Stanley, and came
+from the library of his celebrated son,
+Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, sometime Dean
+of Westminster.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="BOOK_ROOM_2" id="BOOK_ROOM_2"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_134.jpg"
+      alt="Book-room (second view)" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A good book might be written by
+one who is duly qualified on "the Poets
+who are not read." It would not be
+flattering to the ghosts of many of the
+departed great, but there is so much
+assumption on the part of the general
+reader, that he knows them all, has
+read them all, and generally likes them
+all, which if examined into closely
+would prove a snare and a delusion,
+that one is tempted to administer some
+gentle interrogatories upon the subject.
+First and foremost, then, who now reads
+Byron? His works rest on the shelves,
+it is true, but are they ever opened,
+except to verify a quotation? Does the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
+general reader of this time steadily go
+through "Childe Harold," "Don Juan,"
+and his other splendid works. Not death
+but sleep prevails, from which perchance
+one day he may awake and again enjoy
+his share of fame and favour. It is the
+fashion with many persons to express
+the utmost sympathy with and acute
+knowledge of the work of Robert
+Browning, but we doubt if many of
+these could pass a Civil Service examination
+in the very poems they
+name so glibly. He is so hard to
+understand without time and close
+study, that few have the inclination to
+give either in these days of pressure,
+worry, and rush.</p>
+
+<p>Upon neglected shelves Cowper and
+Crabbe lie dusty and unopened&mdash;the
+only person who read Crabbe in these
+days was the late Edward FitzGerald;
+and it is a small class apart that still
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
+looks up to Wordsworth. The stars of
+Keats and Shelley, it is true, are just
+now in the ascendant, and may so remain
+for a little while.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult and dangerous, we are
+told, to prophesy unless we know, but
+our private opinion is that Lord Tennyson's
+fame has been declining since his
+death, and that a large portion of his
+poems and all his plays will die, leaving
+a living residuum of such splendid
+work as "Maud," "In Memoriam,"
+and some of his short poems.</p>
+
+<p>America has furnished us with Dr.
+Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose charm
+and finish is likely to continue its hold
+upon our imagination; then there is the
+Quaker poet Whittier, who will probably
+only live in a song or two; and
+Longfellow, whose popularity has a long
+time since declined. He once wrote
+a sort of novel or romance called
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+"Hyperion," which showed his reading
+public for the first time that he was
+possessed of a gentle humour, which
+does not often appear in his poems.
+For instance, one of his characters, by
+name Berkley, wishing to console a
+jilted lover, says&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'I was once as desperately in love
+as you are now; I adored, and was
+rejected.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You are in love with certain attributes,'
+said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"'Damn your attributes, madam,'
+said I; 'I know nothing of attributes.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you
+have been drinking.'</p>
+
+<p>"So we parted. She was married
+afterwards to another, who knew something
+about attributes, I suppose. I
+have seen her once since, and only
+once. She had a baby in a yellow
+gown. I hate a baby in a yellow
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+gown. How glad I am she did not
+marry me."</p>
+
+<p>The fate of most poets is to be cut
+up for Dictionaries of Quotations, for
+which amiable purpose they are often
+admirably adapted.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_142.jpg" id="i_142.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_142.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_143.jpg" id="i_143.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_143.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XIII" id="CHAT_XIII">Chat No. 13.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>She will return, I know she will,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>She will not leave me here alone.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_019b.jpg" alt="Letter S"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Staying</span>
+many years ago
+in a pleasant country-house,
+whilst walking home after
+evening church my host
+remarked, as we passed in the growing
+darkness a house from which streamed
+a light down the path from the front
+door, "Ah! Jane has not yet returned."
+The phrase sounded odd, and when we
+were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room,
+he that evening told me the
+following story, which, however, then
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+stopped midway, but to which I am
+now able to add the sequel.</p>
+
+<p>A certain John Manson (the name is,
+of course, fictitious), an elderly wealthy
+City bachelor, married late in life a
+young girl of great beauty, and with
+no friends or relations.</p>
+
+<p>She found her husband's country
+home, in which she was necessarily
+much alone, very dull, and she thought
+that he was hard and unsympathising
+when he was at home; whereas, although
+a curt, reserved manner gave this impression,
+he was really full of love for,
+and confidence in his young wife, and
+inwardly chafed at and deplored his
+want of power to show what his real
+feelings were.</p>
+
+<p>The misunderstanding between them
+grew and widened, like the poetical
+"rift within the lute," and soon after
+the birth of her child, a girl, she left
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+her home with her baby, merely leaving
+a few lines of curt farewell, and was
+henceforth lost to him. His belief in
+her honesty never wavered; and night
+after night, with his own hand, he
+lighted and placed in a certain hall-window
+a lamp which thus illuminated
+the path to the door, saying, "Jane will
+return, poor dear; and it's sure to be at
+night, and she'll like to see the light."</p>
+
+<p>Years passed by, and Jane made no
+sign, the light each evening shining
+uselessly; and still a stranger to her
+home, she died, leaving her daughter,
+now a beautiful girl of twenty, and
+marvellously like what her mother was
+when she married.</p>
+
+<p>The husband, unaware of the death
+of his wife, himself came to lay him for
+the last beneath his own roof-tree, and
+still his one cry was, "Jane will return."
+It seemed as if he could not pass in peace
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+from this world's rack until it was
+accomplished&mdash;when, lo! a miracle
+came to pass; for the daughter arrived
+one evening with a letter from her
+mother, written when she was dying,
+and asking her husband's forgiveness,
+and the light still beamed from the
+beacon window.</p>
+
+<p>The old man was only semi-conscious,
+and mistaking his child for her
+mother, with a strong voice cried out,
+"I knew you'd come back," and died
+in the moment of the joy of her supposed
+return.</p>
+
+<p>By a curious coincidence, since writing
+this true story, which was told to
+me in 1865, some of the incidents, in
+an altered form, have found a place in
+Mr. Ian Maclaren's popular book, "Beside
+the Bonnie Brier Bush." It would
+be interesting to know from whence
+he drew his inspiration, and whether his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
+story should perchance trace back to a
+common ancestor in mine.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p>A few years ago Mr. Walter Hamilton
+published, in six volumes, the most
+complete collection of English parodies
+ever brought together. Amongst others,
+he gave a vast number upon the well-known
+poem by Charles Wolfe of "Not
+a drum was heard." Page after page is
+covered with them, upon every possible
+subject; but the following one, written
+by an "American cousin" many years
+ago, and which was not accessible to Mr.
+Hamilton, is perhaps worth repeating
+and preserving. He called it "The
+Mosquito Hunt," and it runs as follows,
+if my memory serves me faithfully, I
+having no written note of it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse"></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">"Not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As around our chamber we hurried,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">In search of the insect whose trumpet and drum</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our delectable slumber had worried.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+		We sought for him darkly at dead of night,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our coverlet carefully turning,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">By the shine of the moonbeam's misty light,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And our candle dimly burning.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">About an hour had seemed to elapse,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Ere we met with the wretch that had bit us;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Which made the mosquito's quietus.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Quickly and gladly we turned from the dead,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And left him all smash'd and gory;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We blew out the candle, and popped into bed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And determined to tell you the story!"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_148.jpg" id="i_148.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_148.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_149.jpg" id="i_149.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_149.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XIV" id="CHAT_XIV">Chat No. 14.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>The welcome news is in the letter found,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The carrier's not commissioned to expound:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>It speaks itself.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">A pleasant</span>
+hour may
+perhaps be passed in searching
+through the family
+autograph-box in the book-room.
+Its contents are varied and far-fetched.
+A capital series of letters from
+that best and most genial of correspondents,
+James Payn, are there to puzzle,
+by their very difficult calligraphy, the
+would-be reader. Mr. Payn, a dear
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
+friend to Foxwold, is now a great invalid,
+and a brave sufferer, keeping,
+despite his pain, the same bright spirit,
+the same brilliant wit, and delighting
+with the same enchanting conversation.
+Out of all his work, there is nothing so
+beautiful as his lay-sermons, published
+in a small volume called "Some Private
+Views;" and but a little while since
+he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most
+affecting study, called "The Backwater
+of Life;" it has only up to the present
+time appeared in the <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>,
+but will doubtless be soon collected with
+other work in a more permanent form.
+It is a pathetic picture of how suffering
+may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and
+courage.</p>
+
+<p>As Mr. Leslie Stephen well says in his
+brother's life, "For such literature the
+British public has shown a considerable
+avidity ever since the days of Addison.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>
+In spite of occasional disavowals, it
+really loves a sermon, and is glad to
+hear preachers who are not bound by
+the proprieties of the religious pulpit.
+Some essayists, like Johnson, have been
+as solemn as the true clerical performer,
+and some have diverged into the humorous
+with Charles Lamb, or the cynical
+with Hazlitt."<a name="fnanchor_2" id="fnanchor_2"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>
+
+<p>In Mr. Payn's lay-sermons we have
+the humour and the pathos, the tears
+being very close to the laughter; and
+they reflect in a peculiarly strong
+manner the tender wit and delicate
+fancy of their author.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to our autograph-box.
+Here we find letters from such varied
+authors as Josef Israels, the Dutch
+painter, Hubert Herkomer, W. B. Richmond,
+Mrs. Carlyle, Wilkie Collins,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+Dean Stanley, and a host of other
+interesting people. Perhaps a few extracts,
+where judicious and inoffensive,
+may give an interest to this especial
+chat.</p>
+
+<p>The late Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah
+was in herself, both socially and intellectually,
+a very remarkable woman.
+Born in the Lake Country, and belonging
+to the Society of Friends, she formed,
+as a girl, many happy friendships with
+the Wordsworths, the Southeys, the
+Coleridges, and all that charmed circle
+of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings
+and doings are so full of interest, and so
+dearly cherished.</p>
+
+<p>These friendships she continued to
+preserve after her marriage, and when
+she had exchanged her lovely lake
+home for an equally beautiful and interesting
+one on the Cornish coast, first
+at Perran and afterwards at Trebah.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One of her special friendships was
+with Hartley Coleridge, who indited
+several of his sonnets to his beautiful
+young friend.</p>
+
+<p>The subjoined letter gives a pleasant
+picture of his friendly correspondence,
+and has not been included in the published
+papers by his brother, the Rev.
+Derwent Coleridge, who edited his
+remains.</p>
+
+
+<p class="blockquote">
+"<span class="smcap">Dear Sarah</span>,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent3">If a stranger to the fold</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of happy innocents, where thou art one,</div>
+      <div class="verse">May so address thee by a name he loves,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Both for a mother's and a sister's sake,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And surely loves it not the less for thine.</div>
+      <div class="verse">Dear Sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee</div>
+      <div class="verse">That I should choose the quaint disguise of verse,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And, like a mimic masquer, come before thee</div>
+      <div class="verse">To tell my simple tale of country news,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or,&mdash;sooth to tell thee,&mdash;I have nought to tell</div>
+      <div class="verse">But what a most intelligencing gossip</div>
+      <div class="verse">Would hardly mention on her morning rounds:</div>
+      <div class="verse">Things that a newspaper would not record</div>
+      <div class="verse">In the dead-blank recess of Parliament.</div>
+      <div class="verse">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
+	    Yet so it is,&mdash;my thoughts are so confused,</div>
+      <div class="verse">My memory is so wild a wilderness,</div>
+      <div class="verse">I need the order of the measured line</div>
+      <div class="verse">To help me, whensoe'er I would attempt</div>
+      <div class="verse">To methodise the random notices</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of purblind observation. Easier far</div>
+      <div class="verse">The minuet step of slippery sliding verse,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">Since you have left us, many a beauteous change</div>
+      <div class="verse">Hath Nature wrought on the eternal hills;</div>
+      <div class="verse">And not an hour hath past that hath not done</div>
+      <div class="verse">Its work of beauty. When December winds,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night,</div>
+      <div class="verse">'Twas sweet, for watchers such as I, to mark</div>
+      <div class="verse">How bright, how very bright, the stars would shine</div>
+      <div class="verse">Through the deep rifts of congregated clouds;</div>
+      <div class="verse">How very distant seemed the azure sky;</div>
+      <div class="verse">And when at morn the lazy, weeping fog,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun</div>
+      <div class="verse">Shed on the western hills his rosiest beams,</div>
+      <div class="verse">I thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale</div>
+      <div class="verse">Had lost one heart that could have felt its peace,</div>
+      <div class="verse">One eye that saw its beauties, and one soul</div>
+      <div class="verse">That made its peace and beauty all her own.</div>
+    </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">One morn there was a kindly boon of heaven,</div>
+      <div class="verse">That made the leafless woods so beautiful,</div>
+      <div class="verse">It was sore pity that one spirit lives,</div>
+      <div class="verse">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+		That owns the presence of Eternal God</div>
+      <div class="verse">In all the world of Nature and of Mind,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Who did not see it. Low the vapour hung</div>
+      <div class="verse">On the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers</div>
+      <div class="verse">The lower regions of the mountainous round;</div>
+      <div class="verse">But every summit, and the lovely line</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky</div>
+      <div class="verse">Boldly defined. The cloudless sun dispelled</div>
+      <div class="verse">The hazy masses, and a lucid veil</div>
+      <div class="verse">But softened every charm it not concealed.</div>
+      <div class="verse">Then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse">Young oak, yet laden with sere foliage;</div>
+      <div class="verse">Larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top</div>
+      <div class="verse">And spiney garb of horizontal boughs;</div>
+      <div class="verse">The veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined,</div>
+      <div class="verse">As if some Dæmon dwelt within its trunk,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd</div>
+      <div class="verse">The holly and the yew, that never fade</div>
+      <div class="verse">And never smile; these, and whate'er beside,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Clothe the bleak strong girth of Silverhow</div>
+      <div class="verse">(You know the place, and every stream and brook</div>
+      <div class="verse">Is known to you) by ministry of Frost,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Were turned to shapes of Orient adamant,</div>
+      <div class="verse">As if the whitest crystals, new endow'd</div>
+      <div class="verse">With vital or with vegetative power,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Had burst from earth, to mimic every form</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of curious beauty that the earth could boast,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Frozen in an instant&mdash;&mdash;"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p>"So much for verse, which, being execrably
+bad, cannot be excused, except by
+friendship, therefore is the fitter for a
+friendly epistle. There's logic for you! In
+fact, my dear lady, I am so much delighted,
+not to say flattered, by your wish that I
+should write to you, that I can't help being
+rather silly. It will be a sad loss to me
+when your excellent mother leaves Grasmere;
+and to-morrow my friend Archer and I dine
+at Dale End, for our farewell. But so it
+must be. I am always happy to hear anything
+of your little ones, who are such very sweet
+creatures that one might almost think it a
+pity they should ever grow up to be big
+women, and know only better than they do
+now. Among all the anecdotes of childhood
+that have been recorded, I never heard of
+one so characteristic as Jenny-Kitty's wish
+to inform Lord Dunstanville of the miseries
+of the negroes. Bless its little soul! I am
+truly sorry to hear that you have been suffering
+bodily illness, though I know that it
+cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. I
+hope little Derwent did not disturb you with
+his crown; I am told he is a lovely little
+wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
+I hope he will see his way better with them.
+Derwent has never answered my letter, but I
+complain not; I dare say he has more than
+enough to do.<a name="fnanchor_3" id="fnanchor_3"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Thank you kindly for your
+kindness to him and his lady. I hope the
+friendship of Friends will not obstruct his
+rising in the Church, and that he will consult
+his own interest prudently, paying court to
+the powers that be, yet never so far committing
+himself as to miss an opportunity
+of ingratiating himself with the powers that
+may be. Let him not utter, far less write,
+any sentence that will not bear a twofold
+interpretation! For the present let his
+liberality go no further than a very liberal
+explanation of the words consistency and
+gratitude may carry him; let him always be
+honest when it is his interest to be so, and
+sometimes when it may appear not to be so;
+and never be a knave under a deanery or a
+rectory of five thousand a year! My best
+remembrances to your husband, and kisses
+for Juliet and Jenny-Kitty, though she did
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+say she liked Mr. Barber far better than me.
+I can't say I agree with her in that particular,
+having a weak partiality for</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your affectionate friend,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Hartley Coleridge</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Another friend of the Fox family
+was the late John Bright, and the
+following letter to the now well-known
+Caroline Fox of Penjerrick will be read
+with interest:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Torquay</span>, 10 <i>mo</i>. 13, 1868.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I hope the 'one cloud' has passed
+away. I was much pleased with the earnestness
+and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask
+thee for a copy of it, but was afraid to give
+thee the trouble of writing it out for me.</p>
+
+<p>"For myself, I have endeavoured only to
+speak when I have had something to say
+which it seemed to me ought to be said, and
+I did not feel that the sentiment of the poem
+condemned me.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a pleasant visit to Kynance
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+Cove. It is a charming place, and we were
+delighted with it. We went on through
+Helston to Penzance: the day following we
+visited the Logan Rock and the Land's End,
+and in the afternoon the celebrated Mount&mdash;the
+weather all we could wish for. We were
+greatly pleased with the Mount, and I shall
+not read 'Lycidas' with less interest now
+that I have seen the place of the 'great
+vision.' We found the hotel to which you
+kindly directed us perfect in all respects.
+On Friday we came from Penzance to Truro,
+and posted to St. Columb, where we spent a
+night at Mr. Northy's&mdash;the day and night
+were very wet. Next day we posted to
+Tintagel, and back to Launceston, taking
+the train there for Torquay.</p>
+
+<p>"We were pressed for time at Tintagel,
+but were pleased with what we saw.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, we are in a land of beauty and of
+summer, the beauty beyond my expectation,
+and the climate like that of Nice. Yesterday
+we drove round to see the sights, and W.
+Pengelly and Mr. Vivian went with us to
+Kent's Cavern, Anstey's Cove, and the round
+of exquisite views. We are at Cash's Hotel,
+but visit our friend Susan Midgley in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+day and evening. To-morrow we start for
+Street, to stay a day or two with my daughter
+Helen, and are to spend Sunday at Bath.
+We have seen much and enjoyed much in
+our excursion, but we shall remember nothing
+with more pleasure than your kindness and
+our stay at Penjerrick.</p>
+
+<p>"Elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate
+remembrance of you, and in the hope
+that thy dear father did not suffer from the
+'long hours' to which my talk subjected
+him. When we get back to our bleak
+region and home of cold and smoke, we
+shall often think of your pleasant retreat,
+and of the wonderful gardens at Penjerrick.</p>
+
+<p>Believe me,</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Always sincerely thy friend,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">John Bright</span>."</p>
+
+<p><i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Caroline Fox</span>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left:1.3em;">Penjerrick, Falmouth.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">There are few men whose every
+uttered word is regarded with greater
+respect and interest than Mr. Ruskin.
+It is well known that he has always
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+been a wide and careful collector of
+minerals, gems, and fine specimens of
+the art and nature world. One of his
+various agents, through whom at one
+time he made many such purchases,
+both for himself and his Oxford and
+Sheffield museums, was Mr. Bryce
+Wright, the mineralogist, and to him
+are addressed the following five
+letters:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote topspacing1">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Brantwood, Coniston, Lancashire</span>,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-60"><i>22nd May '81</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I am very greatly obliged to you
+for letting me see these opals, quite unexampled,
+as you rightly say, from that locality&mdash;but
+from that locality <i>I</i> never buy&mdash;my
+kind is the opal formed in pores and cavities,
+throughout the mass of that compact brown
+jasper&mdash;this, which is merely a superficial
+crust of jelly on the surface of a nasty brown
+sandstone, I do not myself value in the least.
+I wish you could get at some of the geology
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+of the two sorts, but I suppose everything
+is kept close by the diggers and the Jews at
+present.</p>
+
+<p>"As for the cameos, the best of the two,
+'supposed' (by whom?) to represent Isis,
+represents neither Egyptian nor Oxonian
+Isis, but only an ill-made French woman of
+the town bathing at Boulogne, and the
+other is only a 'Minerve' of the Halles,
+a <i>petroleuse</i> in a mob-cap, sulphur-fire
+colour.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't depreciate what I want to buy,
+as you know well, but it is not safe to send
+me things in the set way 'supposed' to be
+this or that! If you ever get any more nice
+little cranes, or cockatoos, looking like what
+they're supposed to be meant for, they shall
+at least be returned with compliments.</p>
+
+<p>"I send back the box by to-day's rail;
+put down all expenses to my account, as I
+am always amused and interested by a parcel
+from you.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't print this letter as an
+advertisement, unless you like!</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever faithfully yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Brantwood</span>, 23<i>rd May</i>.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>The silver's safe here, and I want
+to buy it for Sheffield, but the price seems to
+me awful. It must always be attached to it
+at the museum, and I fear great displeasure
+from the public for giving you such a price.
+What is there in the specimen to make it so
+valuable? I have not anything like it, nor
+do I recollect its like (or I shouldn't want
+it), but if so rare, why does not the British
+Museum take it.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever truly yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+
+<p class="right topspacing2"><span class="smcap">Brantwood</span>, <i>Wednesday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I am very glad of your long and
+interesting letter, and can perfectly understand
+all your difficulties, and have always
+observed your activity and attention to your
+business with much sympathy, but of late
+certainly I have been frightened at your
+prices, and, before I saw the golds, was rather
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+uneasy at having so soon to pay for them.
+But you are quite right in your estimate of
+the interest and value of the collection, and
+I hope to be able to be of considerable
+service to you yet, though I fear it cannot
+be in buying specimens at seventy guineas,
+unless there is something to be shown for
+the money, like that great native silver!</p>
+
+<p>"I have really not been able to examine
+the red ones yet&mdash;the golds alone were more
+than I could judge of till I got a quiet hour
+this morning. I might possibly offer to
+change some of the locally interesting ones
+for a proustite, but I can't afford any more
+cash just now.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever very heartily yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+
+<p class="topspacing2">
+<span class="margin-left-60 smcap">Brantwood</span>,</p>
+<p class="right">3<i>rd Nov. or</i> 4<i>th (?), Friday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>My telegram will, I hope, enable
+you to act with promptness about the golds,
+which will be of extreme value to me; and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+its short saying about the proustites will, I
+hope, not be construed by you as meaning
+that I will buy them also. You don't really
+suppose that you are to be paid interest of
+money on minerals, merely because they have
+lain long in your hands.</p>
+
+<p>"If I sold my old arm-chair, which has
+got the rickets, would you expect the purchaser
+to pay me forty years' interest on the
+original price? Your proustite may perhaps
+be as good as ever it was, but it is not worth
+more to me or Sheffield because you have
+had either the enjoyment or the care of it
+longer than you expected!</p>
+
+<p>"But I am really very seriously obliged by
+the <i>sight</i> of it, with the others, and perhaps
+may make an effort to lump some of the
+new ones with the gold in an estimate of
+large purchase. I think the gold, by your
+description, must be a great credit to Sheffield
+and to me; perhaps I mayn't be able to part
+with it!</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever faithfully yours,</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin."</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<p class="right topspacing2"><span class="smcap">Herne Hill, S.E.</span>, 6 <i>May</i> '84.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Bryce,</span></p>
+
+<p>I can't resist this tourmaline, and
+have carried it off with me. For you and
+Regent Street it's not monstrous in price
+neither; but I must send you back your
+(pink!) apatite. I wish I'd come to see you,
+but have been laid up all the time I've
+been here&mdash;just got to the pictures, and
+that's all.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Yours always,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50">(much to my damage!)</p>
+<p class="right">J. R."</p>
+</div>
+
+<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_2"
+id="footnote_2"></a><a href="#fnanchor_2">
+<span class="label">[2]</span></a>
+"Life of Sir T. FitzJames Stephen," by his Brother, Leslie Stephen.
+Smith, Elder &amp; Co., 1895.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_3"
+id="footnote_3"></a><a href="#fnanchor_3">
+<span class="label">[3]</span></a>
+The Rev. Derwent Coleridge was at the time keeping a school at
+Helston, which was within an easy distance of Perran, where Mrs. Fox
+was at this time living.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_167.jpg" id="i_167.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_167.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XV" id="CHAT_XV">Chat No. 15.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Or wise beyond what other women are.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter "/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">An</span>
+oval picture that hangs
+opposite Sheridan's portrait
+is a fine presentment of
+the Marquis de Ségur, by
+Vanloo.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquis was born in 1724, and
+eventually became a marshal of France,
+and minister of war to Louis XVI.
+After his royal master's execution he
+fell into very low water, and it was only
+by his calm intrepidity in very trying
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
+circumstances that he escaped the guillotine.
+His memoirs have from time
+to time appeared, generally under the
+authority of some of his descendants.
+This interesting portrait belonged to
+the family of de Ségur, and was parted
+with by the present head of the house
+to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who
+gave it to us.</p>
+
+<p>The history of this admirable woman
+is deeply interesting in every detail.
+She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay,
+a member of a good old French
+family, who was ruined by the French
+Revolution of 1785. Born at Versailles
+in the year 1812, her father had the
+child named Yolande Marie Louise;
+and she was educated at the Conservatoire
+in Paris, where they soon discovered
+her wonderful talent for dancing.
+This art was encouraged, developed, and
+trained to the uttermost; and when, in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+due time, she appeared upon the ballet
+stage, she took the town by storm, and
+at once came to the foremost rank as
+the well-known Mademoiselle Duvernay,
+rivalling, if not excelling, the two
+Ellsslers, Cerito, and Taglioni.</p>
+
+<p>She made wide the fame of the
+Cachucha dance, which was specially
+rearranged for her; and the world was
+immediately deluged with her portraits,
+some good, some bad, many very apocryphal,
+and many very indifferent.</p>
+
+<p>In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful
+"Roundabout Papers," which perhaps
+contain some of the most beautiful
+work he ever gave us, he thus recalls,
+in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone,
+his recollections of the great <i>danseuse</i>.
+"In William IV.'s time, when I think
+of Duvernay dancing in as the Bayadère,
+I say it was a vision of loveliness such
+as mortal eyes can't see nowadays.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+How well I remember the tune to
+which she used to appear! Kaled used
+to say to the Sultan, 'My lord, a troop
+of those dancing and singing girls called
+Bayadères approaches,' and to the clash
+of cymbals and the thumping of my
+heart, in she used to dance! There
+has never been anything like it&mdash;never."</p>
+
+<p>After a few years of brilliant successes
+she retired from the stage she had done
+so much to grace and dignify, and
+married the late Mr. Stephens Lyne
+Stephens, who in those days, and after
+his good old father's death, was considered
+one of the richest commoners
+in England.</p>
+
+<p>He died in 1860, after a far too short,
+but intensely happy, married life; and
+having no children, left his widow, as
+far as was in his power, complete
+mistress of his large fortune. They
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
+were both devoted to art, and being
+very acute connoisseurs, had collected a
+superb quantity of the best pictures, the
+rarest old French furniture, and the
+finest china.</p>
+
+<p>The bulk of these remarkable collections
+was dispersed at Christie's in a
+nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and
+proved the great attraction of the season,
+buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna,
+and Berlin eagerly competing with
+London for the best things.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the more remarkable prices
+are here noted, as being of permanent
+interest to the art-loving world, and
+testifying how little hard times can
+affect the sale of a really fine and
+genuine collection.</p>
+
+<p>As a rule, the prices obtained were
+very far in excess of those paid for the
+various objects, in many cases reaching
+four and five times their original cost.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070
+guineas. The beautiful Sèvres oviform vase,
+given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de
+Montcalm, 1900 guineas. A pair of Sèvres
+blue and gold Jardinières, 5&#188; inches high,
+1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000
+guineas. A small upright Louis XVI. secretaire,
+800 guineas. Another rather like it,
+960 guineas. A marble bust of Louis XIV.,
+567 guineas. Three Sèvres oviform vases,
+from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000
+guineas. A single oviform Sèvres vase, 760
+guineas. A pair of Sèvres vases, 1050
+guineas. A very beautiful Sedan chair, in
+Italian work of the sixteenth century, 600
+guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas.
+A Louis XV. upright secretaire, 1320 guineas.
+"Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon,
+2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length
+portrait by Velasquez, 4300 guineas. A bust
+of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas.
+"Faith presenting the Eucharist," a splendid
+work by Murillo, 2350 guineas. "The Prince
+of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas.
+"The Village Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660
+guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work,
+1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame Vigée
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+le Brun, 2250 guineas. A lovely portrait
+by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated
+picture of "La Gamme d'Amour,"
+3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's
+Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively
+1300 guineas and 1050 guineas.
+Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry,
+690 guineas; and a small head of a girl by
+Greuze sold for 710 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>Small pieces of china of no remarkable
+merit, but bearing a greatly enhanced
+value from belonging to this
+celebrated collection, obtained wonderful
+prices. For example:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">A Sang-de B&oelig;uf Crackle vase, 12&#189; inches
+high, 280 guineas. A pair of china Kylins,
+360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155
+guineas. A pair of Sèvres dark blue oviform
+vases, 1000 guineas. Three Sèvres vases,
+1520 guineas. Two small panels of old
+French tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair,
+710 guineas. A circular Sèvres bowl, 13
+inches in diameter, 300 guineas.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The ormolu ornaments of the time
+of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for
+instance&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas.
+A pair of wall lights, 102 guineas. A pair
+of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another
+pair, 500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons,
+220 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>Little tables of Louis XV. period also
+sold amazingly.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">An oblong one, 21&#189; inches wide, 285
+guineas. An upright secretaire, 580 guineas.
+A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315
+guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany
+cabinets, 950 guineas. A pair of Louis
+XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas;
+and an ebony cabinet of the same time fetched
+the extraordinary price of 1700 guineas; and
+a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for
+300 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>The grand total obtained by this remarkable
+sale, together with some of the
+plate and jewels, amounted to £158,000!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For thirty-four years, as a widow,
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered, with
+the utmost wisdom and the broadest
+generosity, the large trust thus placed in
+her most capable hands. Building and
+restoring churches for both creeds (she
+being Catholic and her late husband
+Protestant); endowing needy young
+couples whom she considered had some
+claim upon her, if only as friends;
+further adding to and completing her
+art collections, and finishing and beautifying
+her different homes in Norfolk,
+Paris, and Roehampton.</p>
+
+<p>Generous to the fullest degree, she
+would warmly resent the least attempt
+to impose upon her. An amusing
+instance of this occurred many years
+ago, when one of her husband's relations,
+considering he had some extraordinary
+claim upon the widow's generosity,
+again and again pressed her for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
+large benevolences, which for a season
+he obtained. Getting tired of his importunity,
+she at last declined to render
+further help, and received in reply a
+very abusive letter from the claimant,
+which wound up by stating that if the
+desired assistance were not forthcoming
+by a certain date, the applicant would
+set up a fruit-stall in front of her then
+town-house in Piccadilly, and so shame
+her into compliance with his request.
+She immediately wrote him a pretty
+little letter in reply, saying, "That it
+was with sincere pleasure she had heard
+of her correspondent's intention of pursuing
+for the first time an honest calling
+whereby to earn his bread, and that if
+his oranges were good, she had given
+orders that they should be bought for
+her servants' hall!"</p>
+
+<p>During the Franco-German war of
+1870 she remained in Paris in her
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
+beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-Honoré,
+and would daily sally forth to
+help the sufferings which the people in
+Paris were undergoing. No one will
+ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice
+she then made. Her men-servants
+had all left to fight for their country,
+and she was alone in the big house,
+with only two or three maids to accompany
+her. During the Commune
+she continued her daily walks abroad,
+and was always recognised by the mob
+as a good Frenchwoman, doing her
+utmost for the needs of the very poor.
+Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace,
+who was also in Paris during these
+troubles, well earned his baronetcy by
+his care of the poor English shut up in
+the city during the siege; but although
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite
+as wide and generous as his, she never
+received, nor did she expect or desire it,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
+one word of acknowledgment or thanks
+from any of the powers that were.</p>
+
+<p>She died at Lynford, from the result
+of a fall on a parquet floor, on the 2nd
+September 1894, aged 82, full of physical
+vigour and intellectual brightness,
+and still remarkable for her personal
+beauty; finding life to the last full of
+many interests, but impressed by the
+sadness of having outlived nearly all
+her early friends and contemporaries.</p>
+
+<p>She lingered nearly three weeks after
+the actual fall, during which her affectionate
+gratitude to all who watched
+and tended her, her bright recognition
+when faces she loved came near, her
+quick response to all that was said and
+done, were beautiful and touching to
+see, and very sweet to remember. Her
+last words to the writer of these lines
+when he bade her farewell were, "My
+fondest love to my beloved Julian;" our
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she
+always evinced the deepest affection and
+sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>In her funeral sermon, preached by
+Canon Scott, himself an intimate friend,
+in the beautiful church she had built
+for Cambridge, to a crowded and deeply
+sympathetic audience, he eloquently
+observed: "Greatly indeed was she
+indebted to God; richly had she been
+endowed with gifts of every kind; of
+natural character, of special intelligence,
+of winning attractiveness, which compelled
+homage from all who came
+under the charm of her influence;
+with the result of widespread renown
+and unbounded wealth.... Therefore
+it was that the blessing of God came
+in another form&mdash;by the discipline of
+suffering and trial. There was the
+trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she
+was, of her husband, of whose affection
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+we may judge by the way in which he
+had laid all he possessed at her feet;
+French and Catholic, living amongst
+those who were not of her faith or
+nation, though enjoying their devoted
+friendship. With advancing years, deprived
+by death even of those intimate
+friends, she was lonely in a sense
+throughout her life.... Nor must it
+be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge
+was not merely an easy one out
+of superfluous wealth, but that it involved
+some personal sacrifice. Friends
+of late had missed the sight of costly
+jewels, which for years had formed a
+part of her personal adornment. What
+had become of a necklace of rarest
+pearls, now no longer worn?&mdash;They
+had been sacrificed for the erection of
+this very church."</p>
+
+<p>Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the
+Roman Catholic Bishop of Northampton
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+to his flock, dated the 28th of
+November 1894, he says: "We take
+occasion of this our Advent pastoral,
+to commend to your prayers the soul
+of one who has recently passed away,
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens. Her innumerable
+works of religion and charity
+during her life, force us to acknowledge
+our indebtedness to her; she
+built at her sole cost the churches of
+Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge, and
+she gave a large donation for the church
+at Wellingborough. It was she who
+gave the presbytery and the endowment
+of Lynford, the rectory at Cambridge,
+and our own residence at Northampton.
+By a large donation she greatly helped
+the new episcopal income fund, and she
+was generous to the Holy Father on
+the occasion of his first jubilee. Our
+indebtedness was increased by her bequests,
+one to ourselves as the Bishop,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+one for the maintenance of the fabric
+of the Cambridge Church, another for
+the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a
+fourth to the Clergy Fund of this Diocese.
+Her name has been inscribed
+in our <i>Liber Vitæ</i>, among the great
+benefactors whether living or dead,
+and for these we constantly offer up
+prayers that God may bless their good
+estate in life, and after death receive
+them to their reward."</p>
+
+<p>To the inmates of Foxwold she was
+for nearly a quarter of a century a true
+and loving friend, paying them frequent
+little visits, and entering with the deepest
+sympathy into the lives of those who
+also loved her very dearly.</p>
+
+<p>The house bears, through her generosity,
+many marks of her exquisite taste
+and broad bounty, and her memory will
+always be fragrant and beautiful to those
+who knew her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There are three portraits of her at
+Roehampton. The first, as a most winsome,
+lovely girl, drawn life-size by a
+great pastellist in the reign of Louis
+Philippe; the second, as a handsome
+matron, in the happy years of her all
+too short married life; and the last, by
+Carolus Duran, was painted in Paris in
+1888. This has been charmingly engraved,
+and represents her as a most
+lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey
+hair and large violet eyes, very
+wide apart. She was intellectually as
+well as physically one of the strongest
+women, and she never had a day's illness,
+until her fatal accident, in her life.
+Her conversation and power of repartee
+was extremely clever and brilliant. A
+shrewd observer of character, she rarely
+made a mistake in her first estimate of
+people, and her sometimes adverse judgments,
+which at first sight appeared
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+harsh, were invariably justified by the
+history of after-events.</p>
+
+<p>Her charity was illimitable, and was
+always, as far as possible, concealed.
+A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted,
+generous woman, her death has created
+a peculiar void, which will not in our
+time be again filled:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"For some we loved, the loveliest and the best,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That from his Vintage, rolling Time hath prest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And one by one crept silently to rest."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3"><a name="i_184.jpg" id="i_184.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_184.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_185.jpg" id="i_185.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_185.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>The Index</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Studious he sate, with all his books around,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope</span>.</div>
+</div>
+
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">America. Humours of a voyage to, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Baxter, Robert. His hospitality, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bedford Town and Schools, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Binders and their work, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bradley, A. G. Life of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bright, John. Letter from, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Calverley, C. S., <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Charles II. and Lord Northesk, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Christie's. A sale at, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Christie's. Lyne Stephens sale, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Coleridge, Hartley. Letter from, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Combe Bank, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Craze, modern. For work, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Cunarder. On board a, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">"Cynical Song of the City," <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+  Dickens. On over-work, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Dobson, Austin, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ethie Castle and its ghost story, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Caroline. John Bright's letter to, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Mrs. Charles, of Trebah, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Mrs. Charles, and Hartley Coleridge, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Foxwold and its early train, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">French Revolution of 1848, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Gainsborough's portrait of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ghost story at Ethie, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Gosse, Edmund. Poem by, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Grain, R. Corney. Sketch of, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  His charity, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  Letter from, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Guthrie, Anstey. Bon-mot of, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Hamilton's parodies, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Holmes, Oliver Wendell, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Humours of an Atlantic voyage, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">"Jane will return." A true story, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Jerrold, Douglas. Drawing of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Laureateship, The, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lehmann, R. C. Poem by, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Letter from John Bright, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hartley Coleridge, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Charles II., <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;R. Corney Grain, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lord Lauderdale, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;John Poole, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;John Ruskin, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;G. A. Sala, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Longfellow. Extract from, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lyne Stephens, Mrs., <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sketch of her life, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her art collections, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thackeray's sketch of her, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her death, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her funeral sermon, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Great sale at Christie's, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lytton, Robert, Lord. Poem by, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Manning, Cardinal, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Manning, Charles John, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Mayhew, Horace, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Meadows, Kenny. Drawing of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Newgate. Visit to, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Northesk, Lord, and Charles II., <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Parody. An unknown one, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Payn, Mr. James. His lay-sermons, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Poets who are not read, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Poole, John. Letter from, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Portland, Duke of, and his books, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Portraits of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li"><i>Punch.</i> Memorials of, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+    Portraits of writers to, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Reynolds, Sir Joshua. Portrait by, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ruskin, John. Letters from, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+  Sala, G. A. Letter from, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+    &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Picture by, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Sales at Christie's, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Schools, Bedford, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ségur, Marquis de. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Sheridan, R. B. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Stevenson, R. L., <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Stories. American, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Scott, Canon. Sermon by, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Symon, Arthur. Poem by, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Texts, inappropriate, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Thackeray's description of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Westerham. Birthplace of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Wolfe, General. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Woods, Mr. Thomas H., <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Work, modern. Craze for, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Z---- sale of pictures, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p  class="center"><span class="smcap">The Reader</span> (<i>loquiter</i>).</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Sir, let me see your works and you no more!</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing2">
+  <a name="i_188.jpg" id="i_188.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_188.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="transnote margin-top3">
+<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+<ul>
+  <li>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</li>
+  <li>Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
+    form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</li>
+  <li>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</li>
+  <li>Pictures of the Book Room have been moved. The List of Illustrations
+    paginations were not corrected.</li>
+  <li>Other corrections:
+    <ul>
+      <li>Page 89: 'Hotel des Affaires Étrangers,' changed to 'Hôtel des
+       Affaires Étrangères,'</li>
+      <li>Page 125: Caligraphy changed to calligraphy.</li>
+	</ul>
+  </li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44810 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
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+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #44810 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44810)
diff --git a/old/44810-8.txt b/old/44810-8.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
+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: Chats in the Book-Room
+
+Author: Horace N. Pym
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44810]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHATS IN THE BOOK-ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Chats in the Book-room
+
+
+
+
+  Of this Book only One Hundred and Fifty
+  Copies were privately printed for the
+  Author, on Arnold's Unbleached Handmade
+  Paper, in the month of January
+  1896---of which this is
+
+  _No. 25_
+
+[Illustration: H.N. Pym]
+
+[Illustration: _Walker and Boutall ph. fc._]
+
+
+
+
+  Chats in the
+  Book-room
+
+  By
+
+  Horace N. Pym
+
+  Editor of Caroline Fox's Journals; A Mother's Memoir;
+  A Tour Round my Book-shelves, etc. etc.
+
+  _With Portrait by MOLLY EVANS, and Two
+  Photogravures of the Book-room_
+
+  "If any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories,
+  be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is
+  one of your familiar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict
+  him."--Sir Matthew Hale.
+
+  Privately Printed for the Author in the Year
+  1896 by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
+
+
+
+
+  _To_
+
+  _My Dearly Loved Son_
+
+  _Julian Tindale Pym_
+
+
+  _I dedicate these "Chats in the Book-room," to which I ask him to
+  extend that noble "Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill," which
+  gilds and elevates his life._
+
+            H. N. P.
+
+      Christmas,
+  Foxwold Chase, 1895.
+
+
+
+
+Table of Contents
+
+    "_Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers,
+      Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past,
+    Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers,
+      That warm its creeping life-blood till the last._"
+          O. W. Holmes.
+
+
+                                                              PAGE
+
+  Introduction 1
+
+
+  CHAT I.
+
+  On Richard Corney Grain--His home qualities--His love for
+  children--His benevolence--His power of pathos--His letter
+  on a holiday                                                   3
+
+
+  CHAT II.
+
+  On a portrait of General Wolfe--On the use of portraits in
+  country-houses--On a sale at Christie's--A curious story
+  about a curious sale                                           8
+
+
+  CHAT III.
+
+  On holiday trips--Across the Atlantic--Some humours of
+  the voyage--Some stories told in the gun-room                 18
+
+
+  CHAT IV.
+
+  On a private visit to Newgate prison--In Execution
+  yard--Some anecdotes of the condemned                         34
+
+
+  CHAT V.
+
+  On Book-binding--Some worthy members of the craft--On
+  over-work and the modern race for wealth--Charles Dickens
+  on work--A Song of the City--Anecdote of Mr. Anstey Guthrie   41
+
+
+  CHAT VI.
+
+  On an uninvited guest--Her illness--Her convalescence--Her
+  recovery--Her gratitude--On texts in bedrooms--A
+  welcoming banner                                              53
+
+
+  CHAT VII.
+
+  On some minor poets--On _vers de Soci�t�_--On
+  Praed, C. S. Calverley, Locker-Lampson, and Mr. A. Dobson     58
+
+
+  CHAT VIII.
+
+  On Mr. Punch and his founders--Concerning portraits of
+  Jerrold, Kenny Meadows, and Horace Mayhew--On Mr. Sala as a
+  painter--A letter from G. A. Sala                             66
+
+
+  CHAT IX.
+
+  On our schooldays--On Bedford, past and present--On R. C.
+  Lehmann--A poem by him--A Christmas greeting by
+  H. E. Luxmoore                                                73
+
+
+  CHAT X.
+
+  On John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry"--His friendship with
+  Dickens--His letter to Dickens detailing the French
+  Revolution of 1848                                            82
+
+
+  CHAT XI.
+
+  On Ethie Castle--Its artistic treasures--A letter from
+  Charles II.--A true family ghost story                        99
+
+
+  CHAT XII.
+
+  On Cardinal Manning--Dramatic effect at his _Academia_--On
+  Poets who are never read, or "hardly ever"                   108
+
+
+  CHAT XIII.
+
+  On a true story, called "Jane will return"--On Hamilton's
+  "Parodies"--An unknown one, by the Rev. James Bolton         119
+
+
+  CHAT XIV.
+
+  On autographs--Mr. James Payn and his lay-sermons--Mrs.
+  Charles Fox of Trebah--Her friendship with Hartley
+  Coleridge--A letter from him--A letter from John Bright
+  to Caroline Fox--Mr. Ruskin as a mineral
+  collector--Five unpublished letters from him                 125
+
+
+  CHAT XV.
+
+  On Mrs. Lyne Stephens--The story of her early
+  life--Thackeray's sketch of her--Her art
+  collections--A wonderful sale at Christie's--Her charities
+  and friendships--Her death--Her funeral
+  sermon--Her portraits                                        143
+
+    "_I come not here your morning hour to sadden,
+      A limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,--
+    I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden
+      This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh._"
+              --The Iron Gate.
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+
+  Portrait                                _To face the Title Page_
+
+           The Book-room (First View)                    _Page_ 58
+
+           The Book-room (Second View)                      "  113
+
+
+
+
+Introduction.
+
+    "_Some of your griefs you have cured,
+    And the sharpest you still have survived;
+    But what torments of pain you endured,
+    From evils that never arrived!_"
+
+
+A few years ago a little inconsequent volume was launched on partial
+acquaintance, telling of some ordinary books which line our friendly
+shelves, of some kindly friends who had read and chatted about them,
+some old stories they had told, and some happy memories they had
+awakened.
+
+When those acquaintances had read the little book, they asked, like
+Oliver, for more. A rash request, because, unlike Oliver, they get it
+in the shape of another "Olla Podrida" of book-chat, picture-gossip,
+and perchance a stray "chestnut." Their good-nature must be invoked to
+receive it, like C. S. Calverley's sojourners--
+
+    "Who when they travel, if they find
+      That they have left their pocket-compass,
+    Or Murray, or thick boots behind,
+      They raise no rumpus."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 1.
+
+    "_Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,
+    With too serene a conscience drew
+    Your easy breath, and slumbered through
+              The gravest issue;
+    But we, to whom our age allows
+    Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,
+    Look down upon your narrow house,
+              Old friend, and miss you._"
+              --Austin Dobson.
+
+
+Since we made our last "Tour Round the Book-shelves," death has
+removed one of the kindest friends, and most genial companions, of
+the Book-room. In Richard Corney Grain, Foxwold has lost one of its
+pleasantest and most welcome guests, and it is doubtful, well as the
+public cared for and appreciated his genius, if it knew or suspected
+how generous a heart, and how wide a charity, moved beneath that
+massive frame. When rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon thing
+for Dick Grain to dedicate them to the solace and amusement of some
+hospital or children's home, where, with a small cottage piano, he
+would, moving from ward to ward, give the suffering patients an hour's
+freedom from their pain, and some happy laughs amid their misery.
+
+One day, after a series of short performances in the different parts of
+one of our large London hospitals, he was about to sing in the accident
+ward, when the secretary to the hospital gravely asked him "Not to be
+too funny in this room, for fear he'd make the patients burst their
+bandages!"
+
+Dick Grain was never so happy, so natural, or so amusing as when, of
+his own motion, he was singing to a nursery full of children in a
+country house.
+
+Those who knew him well were aware that, delightful as were all his
+humorous impersonations, he had a graver and more impressive side to
+his lovable and admirable character, and that he would sometimes, when
+sure he would be understood, sing a pathetic song, which made the tears
+flow as rapidly as in others the smiles had been evoked.
+
+Who that heard it will forget his little French song, supposed to be
+sung by one of the first Napoleon's old Guard for bread in the streets.
+He sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice a song of victory,
+breaking off in the middle of a line full of the sound of battle to
+cough a hacking cough, and beg a sous for the love of God!
+
+Subjoined is one of his friendly little notes, full of the quiet happy
+humour that made him so welcome a guest in every friend's house.
+
+            Hothfield Place,
+                Ashford, Kent.
+
+     "My dear Pym,
+
+     I shall be proud to welcome you and Mrs. Pym on Wednesday the
+     26th, but why St. George's Hall? Why not go at once to a play and
+     not to an entertainment? Plays at night. Entertainments in the
+     afternoon. Besides, we are so empty in the evenings now, the new
+     piece being four weeks overdue. Anyhow, I hope to see you at 8
+     Weymouth Street on Nov. 26th, at any hour after my work, say 10.15
+     or 10.30, and so on, every quarter of an hour.
+
+     "I am dwelling in the Halls of the Great, waited on by powdered
+     menials, who rather look down on me, I think, and hide my clothes,
+     and lay things out I don't wish to put on, and button my collar
+     on to my shirt, and my braces on to my----, and when I try to
+     throw the braces over my shoulders I hit my head with the buckle,
+     and get my collar turned upside down, and tear out the buttons in
+     my endeavours to get it right; and they fill my bath so full, that
+     the displacement caused by my unwieldy body sends quarts of water
+     through the ceiling on to the drawing-room--the Red Drawing-room.
+     Piano covered with the choicest products of Eastern towns. Luckily
+     the party is small, so we only occupy the Dragon's Blood Room, so
+     perhaps they won't notice it. But a truce to fooling till Nov.
+     26.--Yours sincerely,
+
+              R. Corney Grain."
+
+     _Nov. 16, 1890._
+
+He was one of the most gifted, warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism
+was all upon the surface, and was never unkind, the big heart beat true
+beneath. His premature death has eclipsed the honest gaiety of this
+nation--"he should have died hereafter."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 2.
+
+    "_Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
+      To all the sensual world proclaim,
+    One crowded hour of glorious life,
+      Is worth an age without a name._"
+              --Old Mortality.
+
+
+A picture hangs at Foxwold of supreme interest and beauty, being a
+portrait of General Wolfe by Gainsborough. Its history is shortly
+this--painted in Bath in 1758, probably for Miss Lowther, to whom he
+was then engaged, and whose miniature he was wearing when death claimed
+him; it afterwards became the property of Mr. Gibbons, a picture
+collector, who lived in the Regent's Park in London, descending in due
+course to his son, whose widow eventually sold it to Thomas Woolner,
+the R.A. and sculptor; it was bought for Foxwold from Mrs. Woolner in
+1895.
+
+The great master has most wonderfully rendered the hero's long, gaunt,
+sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full of coming sorrow and present
+ill-health. His cocked hat and red coat slashed with silver braid are
+brilliantly painted, whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued by a
+touch of powder.
+
+One especial interest that attends this picture in its present home is,
+that within two miles of Foxwold he was born, and passed some youthful
+years in the picturesque little town of Westerham, his birthplace,
+and that his short and wonderful career will always be especially
+connected with Squerryes Court, then the property of his friend George
+Warde, and still in the possession of that family.
+
+Until recently no adequate or satisfactory life of Wolfe existed,
+but Mr. A. G. Bradley has now filled the gap with his beautiful and
+affecting monograph for the Macmillan Series of English Men of Action:
+a little book which should be read by every English boy who desires to
+know by what means this happy land is what it is.
+
+In country houses the best decoration is portraits, portraits, and
+always portraits. In the town by all means show fine landscape and
+sea-scape--heathery hills and blue seas--fisher folks and plough
+boys--but when from your windows the happy autumn fields and glowing
+woods are seen, let the eye returning to the homely walls be cheered
+with the answer of face to face, human interests and human features
+leading the memory into historic channels and memory's brightest
+corners. How pleasant it is in the room where, in the spirit, we now
+meet, to chat beneath the brilliant eyes of R. B. Sheridan, limned by
+Sir Joshua, or to note with a smile the dignified importance of Fuseli,
+painted by Harlow, or to turn to the last portrait of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds, painted by himself, and of which picture Mr. Ruskin once
+remarked, "How deaf he has drawn himself."
+
+Of the fashion in particular painters' works, Christie's rooms give
+a most instructive object-lesson. It is within the writer's memory
+when Romneys could be bought for �20 apiece, and now that they are
+fetching thousands, the wise will turn to some other master at present
+neglected, and gather for his store pictures quite as full of beauty
+and truth, and whose price will not cause his heirs to blaspheme.
+
+A constant watchful attendance at Christie's is in itself a liberal
+education, and it seldom happens that those who know cannot during its
+pleasant season find "that grain of gold" which is often hidden away
+in a mass of mediocrity. And then those clever, courteous members of
+the great house are always ready to give the modest inquirer the full
+benefit of their vast knowledge, and, if necessary, will turn to their
+priceless records, and guide the timid, if appreciative, visitor into
+the right path of selection.
+
+What a delightful thing it is to be present at a field-day in King
+Street. The early lunch at the club--the settling into a backed-chair
+at the exactly proper angle to the rostrum and the picture-stand. (The
+rostrum, by the way, was made by Chippendale for the founder of the
+house.) At one o'clock the great Mr. Woods winds his way through the
+expectant throng, and is promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps of
+which are as promptly tucked in and the business and pleasure of the
+afternoon begins. Mr. Woods, dominating his audience
+
+    "As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
+    Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,"
+
+gives a quick glance round the big room, now filled with well-known
+faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is often priceless. Sir William
+Agnew rubs shoulders with Lord Rosebery, and Sir T. C. Robinson
+whispers his doubts of a picture to a Trustee of the National
+Collection; old Mr. Vokins extols, if you care to listen, the old
+English water-colourists, to many of whom he was a good friend, and Mr.
+George Redford makes some notes of the best pictures for the Press; but
+Mr. Woods' quiet incisive voice demands silence as Lot 1 is offered
+with little prefix, and soon finds a buyer at a moderate price.
+
+The catalogues, which read so pleasantly and convey so much within a
+little space, are models of clever composition, beginning with items of
+lesser interest and carefully leading up to the great attractions of
+the afternoon, which fall to the bid of thousands of guineas from some
+great picture-buyer, amidst the applause of the general crowd.
+
+A pure Romney, a winsome Gainsborough, a golden Turner, or a Corot
+full of mystery and beauty, will often evoke a round of hand-clapping
+when it appears upon the selling-easel, and a swift and sharp contest
+between two or three well-known connoisseurs will excite the audience
+like a horse-race, a fencing bout, or a stage drama.
+
+The history of Christie's is yet to be written, notwithstanding Mr.
+Redford's admirable work on "Art Sales," and when it is written it
+should be one of the most fascinating histories of the nineteenth
+century; but where is the Horace Walpole to indite such a work? and who
+possesses the necessary materials?
+
+One curious little history I can tell concerning a sale in recent years
+of the Z---- collection of pictures and _objets d'art_, which will, to
+those who know it not, prove "a strange story."
+
+A former owner, distinguished by his social qualities and position, in
+a fit of passion unfortunately killed his footman. The wretched victim
+had no friends, and was therefore not missed, and the only person,
+besides his slayer, aware of his death, and how it was caused, was
+the butler. The crime was therefore successfully concealed, and no
+inquiries made. But after a little time the butler began to use his
+knowledge for his own personal purposes.
+
+Putting the pressure of the blackmailer upon his unhappy master, he
+began to make him sing, by receiving as the price of his silence, first
+a fine picture or two, then some rare china, followed by art furniture,
+busts, more pictures, and more china, until he had well-nigh stripped
+the house.
+
+Still, like the daughter of the horse-leech, crying, "Give, give!" he
+made his nominal master assign to him the entire estates, reserving
+only to himself a life interest, which, in his miserable state of
+bondage, did not last long.
+
+The chief butler on his master's death took his name and possessions,
+ousting the rightful heirs; and after enjoying a wicked, but not
+uncommon, prosperity with his stolen goods for some years, he also died
+in the odour of sanctity, and went to his own place.
+
+His successors, hearing uneasy rumours, determined to be rid of their
+tainted inheritance; so placed all the pictures and pretty things in
+the sale-market, and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten property.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 3.
+
+    "_Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
+      Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?
+    Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
+      To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+The best holiday for an over-worked man, who has little time to spare,
+and who has not given "hostages to fortune," is to sail across the
+herring-pond on a Cunarder or White Star hotel, and so get free from
+newspapers, letters, visitors, dinner-parties, and all the daily
+irritations of modern life.
+
+Those grand Atlantic rollers fill the veins with new life, the tired
+brain with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle days slip away all too
+soon, after which a short stay in New York or Boston City, and then
+back again.
+
+The study of character on board is always pleasant and instructive, and
+sometimes a happy friendship is begun which lasts beyond the voyage.
+
+Then, again, the cliques into which the passengers so naturally fall,
+is funny to watch. The reading set, who early and late occupy the
+best placed chairs, and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous
+literature, and are only roused therefrom by the ringing summons to
+meals; then there is the betting and gambling set, who fill card and
+smoking room as long as the rules permit, coming to the surface now
+and then for breath, and to see what the day's run has been, or to
+organise fresh sweepstakes; then there is often an evangelical set,
+who gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted, and sing hymns, and
+address in fervid tones the sinners around them; then there are the
+gossips (most pleasant folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians,
+those who dress three times a day, and those who dress hardly at all:
+and so the drama of a little world is played before a very appreciative
+little audience.
+
+I remember on such a journey being greatly interested in the study of a
+delightful rugged old Scotch engineer, whose friendship I obtained by a
+genuine admiration for his devotion to his engines, and his belief in
+their personality. It was his habit in the evening, after a long day's
+run, to sit alongside these throbbing monsters and play his violin to
+them, upon which he was a very fair performer, saying, "They deserved
+cheering up a bit after such a hard day's work!" This was a real and
+serious sentiment on his part, and inspired respect and an amused
+admiration on ours.
+
+The humours of one particular voyage which I have in my memory, were
+delightfully intensified by the presence on board of a very charming
+American child, called Flossie L----, about fourteen years old, who by
+her capital repartees, acute observation, and pretty face, kept her
+particular set of friends very much alive, and made all who knew her,
+her devoted slaves and admirers.
+
+Her remark upon a preternaturally grave person, who marched the deck
+each day before our chairs, "that she guessed he had a lot of laughter
+coiled up in him somewhere," proved, before the voyage was over, to be
+quite true.
+
+It was this gentleman who, one morning, solemnly confided to a friend
+that he was a little suspicious of the drains on board!
+
+Americanisms, which are now every one's property, were at this time--I
+am speaking of twenty years ago--not so common, and glided from
+Flossie's pretty lips most enchantingly. To be told on a wet morning,
+with half a gale of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat and gum-boots"
+to meet the elements, was at that day startling, if useful, advice. She
+professed a serious attachment for a New York cousin, aged sixteen,
+"Because," she said, "he is so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars,
+reads novels, and runs away when offered candy." Her quieter moments on
+deck were passed in reading 'Dombey and Son,' which, when finished,
+she pronounced to be all wrong, "only one really nice man in the
+book--Carker--and he ought to have married Floey."
+
+Mr. Hugh Childers, then First Lord of the Admiralty, was a passenger
+on board our boat, and having with infinite kindness and patience
+explained to the child our daily progress with a big chart spread on
+the deck and coloured pins, was somewhat startled to see her execute
+a _pas seul_ over his precious map and disappear down the nearest
+gangway, with the remark, "My sakes, Mr. Childers, how terribly
+frivolous you are!"
+
+She had a youthful brother on board, who, one day at dinner, astonished
+his table by coolly saying, as he pointed to a most inoffensive old
+lady dining opposite to him, "Steward, take away that woman, she makes
+me sick!"
+
+A stout and amiable friend of Flossie's, who shall be nameless in
+these blameless records, on coming in sight of land assumed, and I
+fear did it very badly, some emotion at the first sight of her great
+country, only to be crushed by her immediate order, given in the sight
+and hearing of some hundred delighted passengers, "Sailor, give this
+trembling elephant an arm, I guess he's going to be sick!" Luckily for
+him the voyage was practically over, but for its small remnant he was
+known to every one on board as the trembling elephant.
+
+One day a pleasant little American neighbour at dinner touched one's
+sense of humour by na�vely saying, "If you don't remove that nasty
+little boiled hen in front of you, I know I must be ill."
+
+Then there was a dull and solemn prig on board, who at every meal
+gave us, unasked, and _apropos des bottes_, some tremendous facts and
+statistics to digest, such as the number of shrimps eaten each year
+in London, or how many miles of iron tubing go to make the Saltash
+bridge. Finding one morning on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy
+of Whitaker's Almanack and a volume of Mayhew's "London Labour and
+the London Poor," we recognised the source of his elucidations, and
+promptly consigned his precious books to a watery grave. Of that
+voyage, so far as he was concerned, the rest was silence.
+
+Upon remarking to an American on board that the gentleman in question
+was rather slow, he brought down a Nasmyth hammer with which to crack
+his nut by saying, "Slow, sir; yes, he's a big bit slower than the hour
+hand of eternity!"
+
+I remember on another pleasant voyage to Boston meeting and forming
+lasting friendship with the late Judge Abbott of that city, whose
+stories and conversation were alike delightful. He spoke of a rival
+barrister, who once before the law courts, on opening his speech for
+the defence of some notorious prisoner, said, "Gentlemen, I shall
+divide my address to you into three parts, and in the first I shall
+confine myself to the _Facts_ of this case; secondly, I shall endeavour
+to explain the _Law_ of this case; and finally, I shall make an
+all-fired rush at your passions!"
+
+It was Judge Abbott who told me that when at the Bar he defended, and
+successfully, a young man charged with forging and uttering bank-notes
+for large values. After going fully into the case, he was entirely
+convinced of his client's innocence, an impression with which he
+succeeded in imbuing the court. After his acquittal, his client, to
+mark his extreme sense of gratitude to his counsel's ability, insisted
+upon paying him double fees. The judge's pleasure at this compliment
+became modified, when it soon after proved that the said fees were
+remitted in notes undoubtedly forged, and for the making of which he
+had just been tried and found "not guilty!"
+
+Speaking one day of the general ignorance of the people one met, he
+very aptly quoted one of Beecher Ward's witty aphorisms, "That it
+is wonderful how much knowledge some people manage to steer clear
+of." Another quotation of his from the same ample source, I remember
+especially pleased me. Speaking of the morbid manner in which many
+dwelt persistently on the more sorrowful incidents and accidents of
+their lives, he said, "Don't nurse your sorrows on your knee, but spank
+them and put them to bed!"
+
+On one visit to the States I took a letter of special commendation to
+the worthy landlord of the Parker House Hotel in Boston. On arriving
+I delivered my missive at the bar, was told the good gentleman was
+out, was duly allotted excellent rooms, and later on sat down with
+an English travelling companion to an equally excellent dinner in
+the ladies' saloon. In the middle of our repast we saw a small
+Jewish-looking man wending his way between the many tables in, what
+is literally, the marble hall, towards us. Standing beside our table,
+and regarding us with the benignant expression of an archbishop,
+he carefully, though unasked, filled and emptied a bumper of our
+well-iced Pommery Greno, saying, "Now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my
+name's Parker!"
+
+Upon a first visit to America few things are more striking than the
+originality and vigour of some of the advertisements. One advocating
+the use of some hair-wash or cream pleased us greatly by the simple
+reason it gave for its purchase, "that it was both elegant and chaste."
+Another huge placard represented our Queen Victoria arrayed in crown,
+robes, and sceptre, drinking old Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla out of
+a pewter pint-pot. I also saw a most elaborate allegorical design with
+life-size figures, purporting to induce you to buy and try somebody's
+tobacco. I remember that a tall Yankee, supposed to represent Passion,
+was smoking the said tobacco in a very fiery and aggressive manner,
+that with one hand he was binding Youth and Folly together with chains,
+presumably for refusing him a light, whilst with the other he chucked
+Vice under the chin, she having apparently been more amenable and
+polite.
+
+To note how customs change, I one day in New York entered a car in the
+Broadway, taking the last vacant seat. A few minutes, and we stopped
+again to admit a stout negress laden with her market purchases. The car
+was hot, and I was glad to yield her my seat, and stand on the cooler
+outside platform. She took it with a wide grin, saying with a dramatic
+wave of her dusky paw, "You, sir, am a gentleman, de rest am 'ogs!" a
+speech which would not so many years ago have probably cost her her
+life at the next lamppost.
+
+A Washington doctor once told me the following little story, which
+seems to hold a peculiar humour of its own. A country lad and lassie,
+promised lovers, are in New York for a day's holiday. He takes her into
+one of those sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and pastry shops which
+abound, and asks her tenderly what she'll have? She thinks she'll try
+a brandied peach. The waiter places a large glass cylinder holding
+perhaps a couple of dozen of them on their table, so that they may help
+themselves. These peaches, be it known, are preserved in a spirituous
+syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed, and are very expensive.
+To the horror of the young man, the girl just steadily worked her way
+through the whole bottleful. Having accomplished this feat without
+turning a hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a delicate would-be
+sarcastic note, asks with effusion, if she won't try another peach? To
+which the girl coyly answers, "No thank you, I don't like them, the
+seeds scratch my throat!"
+
+As is well known, most of the waiters and servants in American hotels
+are Irish. Dining with a dear old Canadian friend at the Windsor Hotel
+in New York, we were particularly amused by the quaint look and speech
+of the Irish gentleman who condescended to bring us our dinner. He had
+a face like an unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling merry little
+blue eyes. Not feeling well, I had prescribed for myself a water diet
+during the meal, and hoped my guest would atone for my shortcomings
+with the wine. After he had twice helped himself to champagne, the
+while I modestly sipped my seltzer, my waiter's indignation at what
+he supposed was nothing less than base treachery, found vent in the
+following stage-aside to me: "Hev an oi, sorr, on your frind, he's
+a-gaining on ye!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 4.
+
+    "_Give them strength to brook and bear,
+    Trial pain, and trial care;
+    Let them see Thy saving light;
+    Be Thou 'Watchman of their night.'_"
+              --Sabbath Evening Song.
+
+
+Armed with a special order of the then Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Nicholas
+Fowler, I sallied forth one lovely blue day in June, and timidly rang
+the little brass bell beside the little green door giving into Newgate
+Prison.
+
+The gaol is now only used to house the prisoners on the days of trial,
+and for executions on the days of expiation; at other times, save for
+the presence of a couple of warders, it is entirely empty, and empty it
+was on this my day of call.
+
+Presenting my mandate to the very civil warder who replied to my
+summons, I was (he having to guard the door) handed to his colleague's
+care, to be shown the mysteries of this great silent tomb, lying so
+gloomily amid the City's stir.
+
+The first point of interest was the chapel, with that terribly
+suggestive chair, standing alone in the centre of the floor opposite
+the pulpit, on which the condemned used to sit the Sunday before his
+dreadful death, and, the observed of all the other prisoners, heard
+his own funeral sermon preached--a refinement of cruelty difficult
+to understand in this very Christian country. Then followed a visit
+to the condemned cells, two in number, and which are situated far
+below the level of the outside street. They are small square rooms
+with whitewashed walls, enlivened by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen
+texts; in each is a fixed truckle bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat
+on either side. The warder in attendance stated that he had passed
+many nights in them with condemned prisoners, and had rarely found his
+charges either restless or unable to sleep well, long, and calmly!
+
+There is an old story told of a murderer, about whose case some doubt
+was raised, and to whom the prison chaplain, as he lay under sentence
+of death, lent a Bible. In due course a free pardon arrived, and as the
+prisoner left the gaol, he turned to the chaplain saying, "Well, sir,
+here's your Bible; many thanks for the loan of it, and I only hope I
+shall never want it again."
+
+Then we visited the pinioning room; this process is carried out by
+strapping on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat, with buckles at the
+back and outside sockets for the arms and wrists. While putting on one
+of these, I found the leather was cold and damp; it then occurred to
+me, with some horror, that it was still moist with the death-sweat of
+the executed.
+
+The scaffold stands alone across one of the yards, in a little wooden
+building not inappropriately like a butcher's shop. When used, the
+large shutter in front is let down, and the interior is seen to consist
+of a heavy cross-beam on two uprights, a link or two of chain in the
+middle, a very deep drop, with padded leather sides to deaden the sound
+of the falling platform, a covered space on one side for the coffin,
+and on the other a strong lever, such as is used on railways to move
+the points, and which here draws the bolt, releasing the platform on
+which the culprit stands; a high stool for the victim, should he prove
+nervous or faint--and that is all the furniture and fittings of this
+gruesome building.
+
+The dark cell is perhaps the most dreadful part of this peculiarly
+ghastly show, and after being shut in it for a few minutes, which
+seemed hours, one fully understood its terrific taming power over the
+most rebellious prisoners: you are literally enveloped in a sort of
+velvety blackness that can be felt, which, with the absolute and awful
+silence, seemed to force the blood to the head and choke one.
+
+Upon asking the warder to tell us something of the idiosyncrasies of
+the more celebrated criminals he had known, he stated that Wainright
+the murderer was the most talkative, vain, and boastful person he had
+seen there, that his craving for tobacco was curiously extreme, and
+he was immensely gratified when the governor of the prison promised
+him a large cigar the night before his execution. The promise kept, he
+walked up and down the yard with the governor, detailing with unctuous
+pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions, like another Pepys. "But,"
+added my informant, "the pleasantest, cheeriest man we ever had to hang
+in my time was Dr. Lampson, full of fun and anecdote, with nice manners
+that made him friends all round. He was outwardly very brave in facing
+his fate, and yet, as he walked to the scaffold, those behind him saw
+all the back muscles writhing, working, and twitching like snakes in a
+bag, and thus belying the calm face and gentle smile in front. Ah! we
+missed him very much indeed, and were very sorry to lose him. A real
+gentleman he was in every way!"
+
+It was pleasant, and a vast relief after this strange experience, to
+emerge suddenly from this dream of mad, sad, bad things into the roar
+of the City streets, to see the blue sky, and find men's faces looking
+once again pleasantly into our own; but, nevertheless, Newgate should
+be seen by the curious, and those who can do so without coercion,
+before it disappears.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 5.
+
+    "_To all their dated backs he turns you round:
+    These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+It is the present fashion to extol the old bookbinders at the expense
+of the living, and for collectors to give fabulous prices for a volume
+bound by De Thou, Geoffroy Tory, Philippe le Noir, the two Eves
+(Nicolas and Clovis), Le Gascon, Derome, and others.
+
+Beautiful, rare, and interesting as their work is, I venture to say
+that we have modern bookbinders in England and France who can, and do,
+if you give them plenty of time and a free hand as to price, produce
+work as fine, as original, as closely thought out, as beautiful in
+design, material, and colour, as that of any of the great masters of
+the craft of olden days.
+
+For perfectly simple work of the best kind, examine the bindings of
+the late Francis Bedford; and his name reminds me of a curious freak
+of the late Duke of Portland in relation to this art. He subscribed
+for all the ordinary newspapers and magazines of the day, and instead
+of consigning them to the waste-paper basket when read, had them whole
+bound in beautiful crushed morocco coats of many colours by the said
+Bedford; then he had perfectly fitting oaken boxes made, lined with
+white velvet, and fitted with a patent Bramah lock and duplicate keys,
+each box to hold one volume, the total cost of thus habiting this
+literary rubbish being about �40 a volume. Bedford kept a special staff
+of expert workmen upon this curious standing order until the Duke died.
+By his will he, unfortunately, made them heirlooms, otherwise they
+would have sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles liking to have
+possessed a volume with so odd a history. Soon after the Duke's death I
+went over the well-known house in Cavendish Square with my kind friend
+Mr. Woods of King Street, and he showed me piles of these boxes, each
+containing its beautifully bound volume of uselessness.
+
+But to return to our sheepskins. I would ask, where can you see finer
+workmanship than Mr. Joseph W. Zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting
+covers? He once produced two lovely pieces of softly tanned,
+vellum-like leather of the purest white colour, and asked if I knew
+what they were. After some ineffectual guesses, he stated that the
+one with the somewhat coarser texture was a man's skin, and the finer
+specimen a woman's. The idea was disagreeable, and I declined to
+purchase or to have any volumes belonging to my simple shelves clothed
+in such garments.
+
+An English bookbinder who made a name in his day was Hayday; he
+flourished (as the biographical dictionaries are fond of saying) in
+the beginning of the present reign. I possess Samuel Rogers' "Poems"
+and "Italy," in two quarto volumes, bound by him very charmingly. In
+this size Turner's drawings, which illustrate these two books, are
+shown to admiration, and alone galvanise these otherwise dreary works.
+Hayday was succeeded by one Mansell, who also did some good work; but
+I think domestic affliction beclouded his later years, and affected his
+business, as I have lost sight of him for some years.
+
+Among other English bookbinders of the present day I would name Tout,
+whose simple, Quaker-like work, with Grolier tooling, is worth seeing.
+Mackenzie was, in his day, a good old Scotch binder; but the treasure
+I have personally found and introduced to many, is my excellent friend
+Mr. Birdsall of Northampton. His specialty is supposed to be in vellum
+bindings, which material he manipulates with a grace and finish very
+satisfactory to see. He can make the hinges of a vellum-bound book
+swing as easily as a friend's door. He spares no time, thought, or
+trouble in working out suitable designs for the books entrusted to his
+care. For instance, I possess Benjamin D'Israeli's German Grammar,
+used by him when a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved, he
+specially cast a brass stamp, with D'Israeli's crest, which, impressed
+adown the back and on the panels, correctly finishes this interesting
+memento. Then, again, when he had Beau Brummell's "Life" to work upon,
+he used dies representing a poppy, as an emblem flower, a money-bag,
+very empty, and a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these show thought,
+as well as a pleasant fancy, and greatly add to the interest of the
+completed binding.
+
+I have some work by M. Marius Michel, the great French binder, whose
+show-cases in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain, in Paris, were a treat to
+examine. He was kind enough to let me one fine day select and take
+therefrom two volumes of E. A. Poe's works translated and noted by
+Beaudelaire, beautifully clothed by him; and he, at the same visit,
+gave me an autograph copy of his "L'Ornamentation des Reliures
+Modernes," with which, when I returned to England, I asked Mr. Birdsall
+to do what he could. Set a binder to catch a binder, was in this case
+our motto, and Mr. Birdsall has, I think, fairly caught out his great
+rival, although I have not yet had an opportunity of taking M. Michel's
+opinion upon the Englishman's work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One of the leading characteristics of the present day is its craze
+for work, unceasing work, work early and late, work done with a rush,
+destroying nerves, and rendering repose impossible. "Late taking rest
+and eating the bread of carefulness" do not go together, the bread
+being as a rule anything but carefully consumed. R. L. Stevenson
+somewhere says, "So long as you are a bit of a coward, and inflexible
+in money matters, you fulfil the whole duty of man," and perhaps this
+is the creed of the present race of over-workers. In the City of London
+we see this hasting to be rich brought to the perfection of a Fine Art
+(with a capital F and a capital A).
+
+Charles Dickens, who always resolved the wit of every question into a
+nutshell, makes Eugene Wrayburn, in "Our Mutual Friend," strenuously
+object to being always urged forward in the path of energy.
+
+"There's nothing like work," said Mr. Boffin; "look at the bees!"
+
+"I beg your pardon," returned Eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but will
+you excuse my mentioning that I always protest against being referred
+to the bees? ... I object on principle, as a two-footed creature,
+to being constantly referred to insects and four-footed creatures.
+I object to being required to model my proceedings according to the
+proceedings of the bee, or the dog, or the spider, or the camel. I
+fully admit that the camel, for instance, is an excessively temperate
+person; but he has several stomachs to entertain himself with, and I
+have only one." ...
+
+"But," urged Mr. Boffin, "I said the bee, they work."
+
+"Yes," returned Eugene disparagingly, "they work, but don't you think
+they overdo it? They work so much more than they need--they make so
+much more than they can eat--they are so incessantly boring and buzzing
+at their one idea till Death comes upon them--that don't you think they
+overdo it?"
+
+Some time since I cut from the pages of the _St. James' Gazette_ the
+following "Cynical Song of the City," which pleasantly sets forth the
+present craze for work, and again proves, like Dickens' bee, that we
+rather overdo it:--
+
+    "Through the slush and the rain and the fog,
+      When a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom,
+    To the City we jolt and we jog
+      On foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom;
+    To labour a few years, and then have done,
+    A capital prospect at twenty-one!
+
+    There's a wife and three children to keep,
+      With chances of more in the offing;
+    We've a house at Earl's Court on the cheap,
+      And sometimes we get a day's golfing.
+    Well! sooner or later we'll have better fun;
+    The heart is still hopeful at thirty-one.
+
+    The boy's gone to college to-day,
+      The girls must have ladylike dresses;
+    Thank goodness we're able to pay--
+      The business has had its successes;
+    We must grind at the mill for the sake of our son.
+    Besides, we're still youngish at forty-one.
+
+    It has come! We've a house in the shires,
+      We're one of the land-owning gentry,
+    The children have all their desires,
+      But _we_ must do more double-entry;
+    We must keep things together, no time left for fun,
+    Ah! had we been twenty--not fifty--one!
+
+    A Baronet! J.P.! D.L.!
+      But it means harder work, little pleasure;
+    We must stick to the City as well,
+      Though we're tired and longing for leisure.
+    We shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done,
+    As rich as the Bank, though we can't chew a bun,
+    And the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won
+    At seventy--eighty--or ninety-one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Guests at Foxwold are given the opportunity, when black Monday arrives,
+of catching a most unearthly and uneasily early train, which involves
+their rising with anything but a lark, swallowing a hurried breakfast,
+a mounting into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon after eight, and
+then being puffed away through South-Eastern tunnels to the busy hum of
+those unduly busy men of whom we speak.
+
+To catch this early train, which means that you "leave the warm
+precincts of your cheerful bed, nor cast one longing lingering look
+behind," some of our friends most justly object, preferring the early
+calm, the well-considered uprisal, the dawdled breakfast, and the
+ladies' train at the maturer hour of 10.30. Our dear friend, Mr.
+Anstey Guthrie, having firmly and most wisely declined the early
+train and any consequent worm, one very chilly morn, as the early
+risers were starting for the station, appeared at his chamber window
+awfully arrayed in white, and muttering with the fervour of another
+John Bradford, "There goes Anstey Guthrie--but for the grace of God,"
+plunged back into his rapidly cooling couch, "and left the world to
+darkness and to us."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 6.
+
+    "_It's idle to repine, I know;
+    I'll tell you what I'll do instead,
+    I'll drink my arrowroot, and go
+                         To bed._"--C. S. C.
+
+
+My good and kind old friend Robert Baxter, who now rests from his
+labours, was, during his long active life in Westminster (dispensing
+law to the rich and sharing its profits with the poor), one of the most
+charitable and hospitable of men.
+
+Occasionally, however, even his goodness was taxed with such severity,
+as to somewhat try his patience.
+
+The once well-known Mrs. X---- of A----, a philanthropic but foolish
+old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited, at his house in Queen's
+Square, suffering from the first symptoms of rheumatic fever. Calmly
+establishing herself in the best guest-chamber, and surrounded by the
+necessary maid, nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind host's dwelling
+into a private hospital for many weeks. When at last she reached the
+stage of convalescence, and was allowed to take daily outings and
+airings, Mr. Baxter's capital old butler, Sage, had the privilege of
+carrying the fair but weighty invalid downstairs to the carriage, and
+upstairs to her rooms once, and often twice, a day. No small effort
+for any man's strength, however athletic he might be, and Sage, be it
+conceded, was a moderate giant.
+
+The weeks dragged themselves away, and at last the welcome date for
+a final flitting to her own home arrived. Sage felt that he had well
+earned an extraordinary douceur for all his labours, and was not
+therefore surprised when the good lady on leaving slipped into his
+willing hand a suggestive looking folded-up blue slip of paper instead
+of the more limited gold. Retiring to his pantry to satisfy his very
+natural curiosity as to the amount of the vail so fully deserved, his
+feelings may be imagined, but not described, when he found that instead
+of the expected cheque, it was what, in evangelical circles, is called
+a leaflet, bearing on its face the following appropriate and cheerful
+text: "Thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee!"
+
+Whilst upon the subject of misapplied texts, another instance, touched
+with a pleasant humour, occurs to me. Many years ago I visited for
+the first time an old friend and his wife in their pleasant country
+house. Upon being shown into what was evidently one of the best
+guest-chambers, I was intensely delighted to find over the mantelpiece
+the following framed text, in large illuminated letters: "Occupy till I
+come!" Unprepared to make so long a stay, I left on the Monday morning
+following, and have no doubt the generous invitation still remains to
+welcome the coming guest.
+
+Another story of a like nature was told us by Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and
+is therefore worth repeating. He once saw a long procession of happy
+school-children going to some feast, headed by a band of music and a
+standard-bearer. The latter was staggering beneath an immense banner,
+on which was painted the Lion of Saint Mark's, rampant, with mouth,
+teeth, and claws ready and rapacious; underneath was the singularly
+appropriate and happy legend, "Suffer little children to come unto Me."
+
+Another capital story from the same source, which time cannot wither,
+nor custom stale, is, that at some small English seaside resort a
+spirited and generous townsman has presented a number of free seats for
+the parade, each one adorned with an iron label stating that "Mr. Jones
+of this town presented these free seats for the public's use, the sea
+is his, and he made it."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 7
+
+    "_Where are my friends? I am alone;
+      No playmate shares my beaker:
+    Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,
+      And some--before the Speaker:
+    And some compose a tragedy,
+      And some compose a rondo;
+    And some draw sword for Liberty,
+      And some draw pleas for John Doe._"
+              --W. M. Praed.
+
+    "_All analysis comes late._"--Aurora Leigh.
+
+
+The difficulty which has existed since Lord Tennyson's dramatic death,
+of choosing a successor to the Laureateship, has partly arisen from
+the presence of so many minor poets, and the absence, with one
+remarkable exception, of any monarch of song.
+
+The exception is, of course, Mr. Swinburne, who stands alone as
+the greatest living master of English verse. The objections to his
+appointment may, in some eyes, have importance, but time has sobered
+his more erratic flights, leaving a large residuum of fine work, both
+in poetry and prose, which would make him a worthy successor to any of
+those gone before.
+
+Of the smaller fry, it is difficult to prophesy which will hereafter
+come to the front, and what of their work may live.
+
+As Oliver Wendell Holmes so pathetically says:--
+
+    "Deal gently with us, ye who read!
+      Our largest hope is unfulfilled;
+    The promise still outruns the deed;
+      The tower, but not the spire we build.
+
+    Our whitest pearl we never find;
+      Our ripest fruit we never reach;
+    The flowering moments of the mind,
+      Lose half their petals in our speech."
+
+The late Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith) was very unequal in all he
+produced. Perhaps the following ballad from his volume of "Selected
+Poems," published in 1894 by Longmans, is one of the best and most
+characteristic he has written:--
+
+THE WOOD DEVIL.
+
+    1.
+
+    "In the wood, where I wander'd astray,
+    Came the Devil a-talking to me,
+    O mother! mother! But why did ye tell me, and why did they say,
+    That the Devil's a horrible blackamoor? He
+    Black-faced and horrible? No, mother, no!
+    And how should a poor girl be likely to know
+    That the Devil's so gallant and gay, mother?
+    So gentle and gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!
+
+    II.
+
+    And 'Pretty one, whither away?
+    And shall I come with you?' said he.
+    O mother! mother!
+    And so winsome he was, not a word could I say,
+    And he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me,
+    And he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till I kiss'd him again,
+    And O, not till he left me I knew to my pain
+    'Twas the Devil that led me astray, mother!
+    The Devil so gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!"
+
+Mr. Edmund Gosse's work is always scholarly and well thought out,
+framed in easy, pleasant English. In some of his poems he reminds one
+of the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." His song of the "Wounded
+Gull" is very like Dr. Holmes, both in subject and treatment:--
+
+    "The children laughed, and called it tame!
+      But ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing
+    Hung by its side; the gull was lame,
+      A suffering and deserted thing.
+
+    With painful care it downward crept;
+      Its eye was on the rolling sea;
+    Close to our very feet, it stept
+      Upon the wave, and then--was free.
+
+    Right out into the east it went
+      Too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek;
+    Slowly it steered, in wonderment
+      To find its enemies so meek.
+
+    Calmly it steered, and mortal dread
+      Disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume;
+    It could but die, and being dead,
+      The open sea should be its tomb.
+
+    We watched it till we saw it float
+      Almost beyond our furthest view;
+    It flickered like a paper boat,
+      Then faded in the dazzling blue.
+
+    It could but touch an English heart
+      To find an English bird so brave;
+    Our life-blood glowed to see it start
+      Thus boldly on the leaguered wave."
+
+A few fortunate persons possess copies of Mr. Gosse's catalogue of his
+library, and it is, I rejoice to say, on the Foxwold shelves. It is a
+most charming work, reflecting on every page, by many subtle touches,
+the refined humour and wide knowledge of the collector. Mr. Austin
+Dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf as follows:--
+
+    "I doubt your painful Pedants who
+    Can read a dictionary through;
+    But he must be a dismal dog,
+    Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"
+
+Of the little mutual admiration and log-rolling society, whose
+headquarters are in Vigo Street, no serious account need be taken.
+Time will deal with these very minor poets, and whether kindly or not,
+Time will prove. They may possibly be able to await the verdict with a
+serene and confident patience--and so can we. An exception may perhaps
+be made for some of Mr. Arthur Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following
+extract will show:--
+
+    "Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
+      Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
+    Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
+      As I saw her once for a while.
+
+    Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
+      Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
+    And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
+      Out of Boccaccio's book.
+
+    There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
+      Leaning across the table, over the beer,
+    While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
+      As the midnight hour drew near.
+
+    There with the women, haggard, painted, and old,
+      One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
+    She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
+      Tale after shameless tale.
+
+    And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
+      Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
+    And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
+      Or ever the tale was done.
+
+    O my child, who wronged you first, and began
+      First the dance of death that you dance so well?
+    Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man
+      Shall answer for yours in hell."
+
+Mr. Austin Dobson and the late Mr. Locker-Lampson are perhaps the
+finest writers of _vers de Soci�t�_ since Praed; whilst in the
+broader school of humour C. S. Calverley, Mr. Dodgson (of "Alice in
+Wonderland" fame), and the late James Kenneth Stephen, stand alone and
+unchallenged; and Mr. Watson, if health serve, will go far; and so with
+some pathetic words of one of these moderns we will end this somewhat
+aimless chat:--
+
+    "My heart is dashed with cares and fears,
+      My song comes fluttering and is gone;
+    Oh, high above this home of tears,
+          Eternal joy,--sing on."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 8.
+
+    "_Punch! in the presence of the passengers._"
+
+
+Within the past year certain gentle disputes and friendly discussions
+as to the origin of _Punch_, and who its first real editor was, and
+whether or no Henry Mayhew evolved it with the help of suitable friends
+in a debtor's prison, remind us that Foxwold possesses some rather
+curious "memories" of this famous paper.
+
+These disputes should now be put to rest for ever by Mr. Spielmann's
+exhaustive "History of Mr. Punch," which, it may safely be supposed,
+appeared with some sort of authority from "Mr. Punch" himself.
+
+One of our "Odds and Ends" is a kit-kat portrait in oil of Horace
+Mayhew, "Ponny," excellent both as a likeness and a work of art,
+which should eventually find hanging space in the celebrated _Punch_
+dining-room. There is also a pencil drawing of him, in which "the
+Count," as he was called, is dressed in the smartest fashion of that
+day, and crowned with a D'Orsay hat, resplendent, original, and gay.
+
+He made a rather unhappy marriage late in his life, and found that
+habits from which he was not personally free showed themselves rather
+frequently in his wife's conduct. One day, in a state of emotion and
+whisky and water, he pressed Mark Lemon's hand, and, bursting into
+tears, murmured, "My dear friend, she drinks! she drinks!!" "All
+right," was the editor's cheery reply, "my dear boy; cheer up, so do
+you!"
+
+Near by hangs a characteristic pencil sketch of Douglas Jerrold, who,
+if small, was no hunchback (as has been lately stated), but was a
+very neatly made, active little man, with a grand head covered with a
+profusion of lightish hair, which he had a trick of throwing back, like
+a lion's mane, and a pair of bright piercing blue eyes. There is an
+engraving of a bust of him prefixed to his life (written by his son,
+Blanchard Jerrold), which well conveys the nobility of the well-set
+head. Then comes a capital drawing of Kenny Meadows in profile, and a
+thoroughly characteristic Irish phiz it is.
+
+These pencil portraits are all from the gifted hand of Mr. George
+Augustus Sala, and formerly belonged to Horace Mayhew himself. Mr.
+Sala, as is now well known by means of his autobiography, was once an
+artist and book-illustrator, and Foxwold is the proud possessor of
+the only picture in oil extant from his brush. It is called "Saturday
+Night in a Gin-Palace": it is full of a Hogarthian power, and by its
+execution, drawing, and colour shows that had Mr. Sala made painting
+his profession instead of literature, he would have gone far and fared
+well. The little picture is signed "G. A. Sala," and was found many
+years ago in an old house in Brompton, when the present owner secured
+it for a moderate sum, and then wrote to Mr. Sala asking if the picture
+was authentic. A reply was received by the next post, in the beautiful
+handwriting for which he is famous, and runs as follows:---
+
+            46 Mecklenburgh Square, W.C.,
+                _Tuesday, Twenty-fifth June 1878_.
+
+     "Dear Sir,
+
+     I beg to acknowledge receipt of your courteous and (to me)
+     singularly interesting note.
+
+     "Yes, the little old oil-picture of the 'Gin-Palace Bar' is mine
+     sure enough. I can remember it as distinctly as though it had been
+     painted yesterday. Great casks of liquor in the background; little
+     stunted figures (including one of a dustman with a shovel) in the
+     foreground. Details executed with laborious niggling minuteness;
+     but the whole work must be now dingy and faded to almost total
+     obscuration, since I remember that in painting it I only used
+     turpentine for a medium, the spirit of which must have long since
+     'flown,' and left the pigment flat or 'scaly.'
+
+     "The thing was done in Paris six-and-twenty years ago (Ap. 1852),
+     and being brought to London, was sold to the late Adolphus
+     Ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing firm of Ackermann & Co.,
+     96 Strand (premises now occupied by E. Rimmel, the perfumer), for
+     the sum of five pounds. I hope that you did not give more than
+     a few shillings for it, for it was a vile little daub. I was at
+     the time when I produced it an engraver and lithographer, and I
+     believe that Mr. Ackermann only purchased the picture with a view
+     to encourage me to 'take up' oil-painting. But I did not do so. I
+     'took up' literature instead, and a pretty market I have brought
+     my pigs to! At all events, _you_ possess the only picture in oil
+     extant from the brush of
+
+            Yours very faithfully,
+
+                George Augustus Sala."
+
+     _To_ H. N. Pym, Esq.
+
+When Mr. Sala afterwards called to see the picture, he altered his mind
+as to its being "a vile little daub," and found the colours as fresh
+and bright as when painted. We greatly value it, if only as the cause
+of a lasting friendship it started with the artist.
+
+His own portrait by Vernet, in pen and ink, now graces our little
+gallery; it is a back view, taken amidst his books, and a most
+characteristic and excellent likeness of this accomplished and
+versatile gentleman.[1]
+
+One of our guest-chambers is solemnly dedicated to the honour and glory
+of "Mr. Punch," and on its walls hang some original oil sketches by
+John Leech, drawings by Charles Keene, Mr. Harry Furniss, Randolph
+Caldecote, Mr. Bernard Partridge, Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and Mr. Du
+Maurier; whilst kindly caricatures of some of the staff, and a print of
+the celebrated dinner-table, signed by the contributors, complete the
+decoration of a very cheery little room.
+
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[1] Whilst these pages are passing through the press, George Augustus
+Sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. An
+unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles,
+physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life
+in gloom: as Mr. Bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor
+of this volume, "It is so sad when the autumn of such a life is
+tempestuous."--_December 8, 1895._
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 9
+
+    "_Then be contented. Thou hast got
+    The most of heaven in thy young lot;
+          There's sky-blue in thy cup!
+    Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast---
+    Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last,
+          A sorry breaking-up._"
+                --Thomas Hood.
+
+
+It was my good fortune some short time since to revisit that most
+educational of English towns, Bedford, and having many years ago had
+the extreme privilege of being a Bedford schoolboy, I was able to draw
+a comparison between then and now.
+
+In the good old days these admirable schools were managed in the good
+old way--plenty of classics, plenty of swishing, plenty of cricket
+and boating, and plenty of holidays. We sometimes turned out boys who
+afterwards made their mark in the big world, and the School Registers
+are proud to contain the names of such men as Burnell, the Oriental
+scholar, who out-knowledged even Sir William Jones in this respect;
+Colonel Fred. Burnaby, brave soldier and attractive travel writer;
+Inverarity, the lion-hunter and crack shot; Sir Henry Hawkins, stern
+judge and brilliant wit, and many others of like degree. Nor must we
+forgot that John Bunyan here learnt sufficient reading and writing
+to enable him in after years to pen his marvellous Book during his
+imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, which was then situated midway on the
+bridge over the river Ouse.
+
+In that wonderful monument to the courage and enterprise of Mr. George
+Smith (kindest of friends and best of publishers), "The National
+Dictionary of Biography," the record is frequent of men who owed their
+education and perhaps best chance in the life they afterwards made a
+success, to Bedford School, but,--
+
+    "Long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted,
+      As when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred,
+    Yet still with their music is memory haunted,
+      And oft in my dreams are their melodies heard."
+
+But if the good old School was a success in those bygone days, what
+must be said for it now, when, under the Napoleon-like administration
+of its present chief, the school-house has been rebuilt in its own
+park, upon all the best and latest known principles of comfort and
+sanitation, where a boy can, besides going through the full round
+of usual study, follow the bent of his own peculiar taste, and find
+special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing or music, chemistry
+or wood-carving, ambulance work or drawing from the figure; whilst the
+beautiful river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields and football
+yards are crowded, and the bathing stations are a constant joy?
+
+Truly the present generation of Bedford boys are much blessed in
+their surroundings; and whilst they remember with gratitude the pious
+founder, Sir William Harper, should strive to do credit to his name and
+memory by the exercise of their powers in the battle of after-life,
+having received so thorough and broad-minded a training in the happy
+and receptive days of their youth.
+
+Bedford town is now one of the most strikingly attractive in England,
+with its fine river embankment, its grand old churches, its statues
+erected to the memory of the "inspired tinker," Bunyan, and the prison
+philanthropist, Howard, both of whom lived about a mile or so from
+the town, the former at Elstow, the latter at Cardington. It was very
+good and heart-restoring to revisit the hospitable old school with its
+pleasant surroundings and to find, as Robert Louis Stevenson says,
+that,--
+
+    "Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,
+      Heroes and soldiers they all shall come home;
+    Still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,
+      Turning and churning that river to foam."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Since printing our last little "Tour Round the Bookshelves," in
+which we ventured to include some capital lines by our evergreen and
+many-sided friend Rudolf Chambers Lehmann, he has again added to the
+interest of our Visitors' Book under the following circumstances.
+Guests and home-birds were all resting after the exhausting idleness
+of an Easter holiday when they were suddenly aroused from their
+day-dreams by loud cries of "Fire!" accompanied by the sound of horses
+and chariots approaching the house at full speed. On looking out, like
+Sister Anne or a pretty page, we were able to assuage our guests'
+natural alarm by explaining that the local fire brigade were practising
+upon our vile bodies and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger did not.
+On their ultimately retiring, satisfied with their mock efforts, and
+fortified by beer, our welcome guest wrote with his usual flying pen
+the following characteristic lines to commemorate their visit:--
+
+     "FIRE! FIRE!!"
+
+     (AN EASTER MONDAY INCIDENT.)
+
+    "A day of days, an April day;
+      Cool air without, and cloudless sun;
+    Within, upon the ordered tray,
+      Cakes, and the luscious Sally-Lunn.
+    Since Pym has walked, and Guthrie climbed
+      To rob some feathered songster's nest,
+    Their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed--
+      Pour, lady, pour, and let them rest.
+
+    But hark! what sound disturbs their tea,
+      And clatters up the carriage drive?
+    A dinner guest? it cannot be;
+      No, no, the hour is only five.
+    What sight is this the fates disclose,
+      That breaks upon our startled view?
+    Two horses, countless yards of hose,
+      Nine firemen, and an engine too.
+
+    Where burns the fire? Tush, 'tis but sport;
+      The horses stop, the men descend,
+    Take hoses long, and hoses short,
+      And fit them deftly end to end.
+    Attention! lo their chieftain calls--
+      They run, they answer to their names,
+    And hypothetic water falls
+      In streams upon imagined flames.
+
+    Well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done;
+      Accept, the peril past, our thanks;
+    Though all your toil was only fun,
+      And air was all that filled your tanks:
+    No, not for nought you came and dared,
+      Return in peace, and drink your fill;
+    It was, as Mrs. Pym declared,
+      'A highly interesting drill.'"
+
+    _April 3, 1893._
+
+Another poet whose pen sometimes gilds our modest Record of Angels'
+Visits, is a well-beloved cousin, Harry Luxmoore by name, at Eton known
+so well. His Christmas greeting for 1890 shall here appear, and prove
+to him how deep is Foxwold's affectionate obligation for wishes so
+delightfully expressed:--
+
+    "Glooms overhead a frozen sky,
+      Rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth,
+    Yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie,
+      And somewhere sleeps the coming birth.
+
+    Folded in root and grain is lying,
+      The bud, the bloom we soon may see,
+    And in the old year now a-dying
+      Is hid the new year that shall be.
+
+    O what if snows be deep? so shrouded
+      Matures the soil with promise rife
+    And sap, for all the skies be clouded,
+      Ripens at heart a lustier life.
+
+    Then welcome winter--while we shiver
+      Strength harbours deeper, and the blast
+    Of sounder, manlier force the giver
+      Strips off betimes our withered past.
+
+    Come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower,
+      Come weal, come woe, as best may be,
+    Still may the New Year's hidden dower
+      Be good for you and Horace, and all the little
+           ones, and good for me."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 10.
+
+    "_My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd:
+    Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+The following graphic account of the rising in Paris in 1848 was
+written by John Poole to Charles Dickens, and was recently found
+amongst the papers of Mrs. John Forster, the widow of the well-known
+writer, Dickens' friend and biographer, and is, I think, worthy of
+print.
+
+John Poole was a sometime celebrated character, having written that
+evergreen play "Paul Pry," as well as "Little Pedlington," and other
+humorous works mostly now forgotten.
+
+As he grew old poverty came to bear him company, and was only prevented
+from causing him actual suffering by the usual generosity of Dickens
+and other members of that charmed circle, further aided by a small
+Government grant, obtained for him by the same faithful friend from
+Lord John Russell.
+
+The letter is addressed to
+
+  CHARLES DICKENS, Esq.,
+    No. 1 Devonshire Terrace,
+      York Gate, Regent's Park,
+          LONDON,
+
+and deals with the celebrated uprisal of the French mob, when a force
+of 75,000 regulars and nearly 200,000 National Guards was massed round
+Paris to resist it. The carnage was terrible, some 8000 persons being
+killed on both sides, and 14,000 insurgents made prisoners.
+
+It was only by General Cavaignac's firmness and tactful management
+under Lamartine's directions, that the mob was reduced and the
+Republican Government established. The general was afterwards nearly
+elected President of the French Republic, receiving 1,448,000 votes,
+but Prince Louis Napoleon beat him, and, as history tells, held the
+reins in various capacities for the next twenty eventful years.
+
+Poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness, gives a remarkably clear
+impression of the scene as it appeared in his orbit. Dickens, on
+receiving it, evidently sent it the round of his friends, and it then
+remained in John Forster's possession until his death.
+
+            "(Paris), _Saturday, 8 Jul 1848_.
+
+     "My dear Dickens,
+
+     I wrote to you through the Embassy on the 22nd June, giving you an
+     address for the three last Dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue of
+     the ex-King's wine; and on the 16th I sent you a word in a letter
+     to Macready. Dombeys not yet arrived, and I shall wait no longer
+     to acknowledge their arrival (as I have been doing), but at once
+     proceed to give you a few lines. Since the day of my writing to
+     you I have lived four years: Friday (the 23rd), Saturday, Sunday,
+     Monday, each a year.
+
+     "The proceedings of the three days of February were mere
+     child's-play compared with these. Never shall I forget them, for
+     they showed me scenes of blood and death. Friday morning the
+     '_rappel_' was beat--always a disagreeable hint. Presently I
+     heard discharges of musketry, then they beat the '_g�n�rale._' My
+     _concierge_ ran into my room, and, with a long white face, told me
+     the mob had erected huge barricades in the Faubourg-Saint-Denis,
+     and above, down to the Porte St. Denis, and that tremendous
+     fighting was going on there. (The Porte St. Denis bears marks of
+     the fray.) 'Then, Madame Blanchard,' I said, 'as you seem to be
+     breaking out again, I shall take a _sac-de-nuit_, and say adieu to
+     you till you shall have returned to your good behaviour.'--'But
+     monsieur could not get away for love or money--the insurgents have
+     possession of the Chemin de Fer, and had torn up the rails as far
+     as St. Denis.' This was what she had been told, so I went out to
+     ascertain the fact.
+
+     "Impossible to approach that quarter, and difficult to turn the
+     corner of a street without interruption--groups of fifteen,
+     twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all about. Towards
+     evening matters seemed rather more tranquil, and between six and
+     seven o'clock I contrived (though not easily) to make my way
+     to Sestels, in the Rue St. Honor� (one of the very best of the
+     second-rate restaurateurs in Paris, 'which note'). The large
+     saloon was filled with men in uniform, National Guards chiefly,
+     and only two women there. I was there about an hour, and in that
+     time three dead bodies were carried past on covered litters. It
+     was thought the disturbances were pretty well over, as a powerful
+     body of troops had been ordered down to the scene of action.
+
+     "At about eight o'clock I went out for the purpose of making
+     a visit in the Rue d'Enghien, but found the whole width of
+     the Boulevard Montmartre, which, as you know, leads to the
+     Boulevard St. Denis, defended by a compact body of National
+     Guards--impassable! Between nine and ten o'clock three regiments
+     of cavalry, with cannon--a long, long procession--marched in the
+     direction of the scene of insurrection. This was a comforting
+     sight, and as such everybody seemed to consider it, and I went
+     home. And this was Midsummer Eve!--Walpurgis Night!
+
+     "The next day, Saturday, Midsummer Day, I never shall forget!
+     Sleep had been hopeless--the night had been disturbed by the
+     frequent beating of the '_g�n�rale_' and the cry '_Aux Armes!_'
+     Every now and then I looked up at the sky, expecting to see it
+     red from some direful conflagration. Day came, and soon the
+     firing of musketry was heard, now from the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine, now from the Faubourg-Saint-Marceaux.
+     Then came the heavy booming of cannon--death in every echo! From
+     twelve till nearly one, and again after a pause, it was dreadful.
+     (I cannot make 'fun' of this, like the facetious correspondent of
+     the _Morning Post_. Who is he? Surely he must be an ex-reporter
+     for the Cobourg Play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house
+     quotations. I am utterly disgusted and revolted at the tasteless
+     levity with which he describes scenes of blood and destruction and
+     death, and so treats of matters, all of which require grave and
+     sober handling. And then he describes, as an eye-witness, things
+     which, happen though they did, I am certain he could not have been
+     present to see.)
+
+     "Well, as we were soon to be in a state of siege, and strictly
+     confined to home, I can tell you nothing but what I saw here on
+     this very spot. One event is a remembrance for life. In this
+     house lived General de Bourgon, one of what they call the 'old
+     Africans.' In the course of the morning General Korte (another
+     of them) called on him, and said, 'I dare say Cavaignac has
+     plenty to do. I will go and ask him if we can be of any service
+     to him. If we can, I will send for you, so keep yourself in the
+     way.' He was in Paris 'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so
+     he sent Blanchard (the _concierge_) to the _man�ge_, which is in
+     the next street, to inquire whether they had a horse that would
+     'stand fire.' Yes; but they would not let it go out. The next
+     message intimated that they must send it, or it would be taken by
+     force. At about two o'clock, going out, I met, coming out of his
+     apartments on the second floor (I, you know, am on the fourth),
+     General de Bourgon, in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and
+     his sister-in-law--the latter a very beautiful woman, somewhat in
+     the style of Mrs. Norton. As usual, we exchanged _bon-jours_ in
+     passing. I went as far as the boulevard at the end of the street.
+     There was a strong guard at the 'H�tel des Affaires �trang�res,'
+     and there I was stopped. An officer of the National Guard asked
+     me whether I was proceeding in the direction of my residence.
+     Answering in the negative, he said (but with great courtesy),
+     'Then, sir, I advise you to return; it is in your interest I do
+     so; besides' (pointing in the direction where was heard a heavy
+     firing), 'd'ailleurs, monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour
+     de promenade.'
+
+     "I returned, and tried by the Place Vend�me, but about half-way
+     up the Rue de la Paix was again stopped. After loitering about
+     for an hour, and unable to get anything in the shape of positive
+     information, I returned home. Shortly after three I saw the
+     General de Bourgon in full uniform, and on horseback. He proceeded
+     a few paces, stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers adjusted,
+     and then, followed by an orderly, went off at a brisk trot. Soon
+     afterwards a guard was placed in the middle and at each end of
+     this street; no one was allowed to loiter, or to quit it but with
+     good reason, and only then was passed on by one sentinel to the
+     next, so from that moment I was not out of the house till Monday
+     morning.
+
+     "At about half-past six the street--usually a noisy one--being
+     perfectly still, I heard the measured tramp of feet approaching
+     from the direction of the boulevard. I went to the window, and saw
+     about fifteen or eighteen soldiers, some bearing, and the rest
+     guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a wounded officer.
+     He was bare-headed, his black stock had been removed, his coat
+     thrown wide open, and over his left thigh was spread a soldier's
+     grey greatcoat. To my horror the procession stopped at this door.
+     It was the General brought home desperately wounded! I ran down
+     and saw him brought up to his apartment, crying out with agony at
+     every shake he received on the winding, slippery staircase. On
+     the following Friday (the 30th), at eleven o'clock at noon, after
+     severe suffering, he died. In the course of the day I saw him; his
+     neck was uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had been making
+     a sketch of him)--he looked like one in placid contemplation.
+     Previously to the fatal result, at one of my frequent visits of
+     inquiry, I saw Madame de Bourgon (the sister-in-law). She replied
+     mournfully, but without apparent emotion, 'We are in hopes they
+     will be able to perform the amputation to-morrow.' (They could
+     not.) 'But see! he has passed his life, as it were, on the field
+     of battle--twelve years in Africa--and to fall in this way! But it
+     was his duty to go out.'
+
+     "'And, madame, how is she?'
+
+     "'Eh, mon Dieu, monsieur! how would you have her be? But a
+     soldier's wife must be prepared for these things.'
+
+     "(She, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the general's brother,
+     Colonel de Bourgon.) His friend, General Korte, too, was wounded,
+     but not dangerously.
+
+     "In all the African campaigns only two generals were killed, in
+     these street fights six! But the insurgents fought at tremendous
+     advantage. On that said Saturday afternoon two incidents occurred,
+     trifling if you will, but they struck me. A large flight of crows
+     passed over, taking a direction towards the prison of St. Lazare,
+     showing that fighting was murderous; and a rainbow (one of the
+     most beautiful I ever saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof
+     of the opposite houses. Beneath it seemed to come the noise of the
+     fight; the sign of peace and the sounds of war and death. Mrs.
+     Norton could make a verse or two out of this. This was Midsummer's
+     Day!
+
+     "Our Midsummer Night's dreams were not pleasant, believe me.
+     No--there was no sleep on that night--a night of terrible
+     anxiety. Paris was in a state of siege--no one allowed to be
+     out of the house, nor a window permitted to be opened. All
+     night was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel under my
+     very window--'Sentinelle prenez garde � vous.' I can hardly
+     describe by words the peculiar tone in which this was uttered,
+     but the syllable 'nelle' was accented, and the word 'vous' was
+     uttered briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark. This was
+     given _fortissimo_--repeated by the next _forte_--beyond him,
+     _piano_--further on, _pianissimo_--till it returned, louder
+     and louder, and then died away again, and so on, and on, and
+     on till daybreak. Then was beat the '_rappel_'--then the
+     '_g�n�rale_'--then again the firing.
+
+     "This was Sunday morning, and from five o'clock till ten at
+     night was not the happiest, but the longest day of my life. Any
+     sort of occupation was out of the question. Each hour appeared a
+     day. Impossible to get out, or to receive a visit, or to send a
+     message, or to procure any reliable information as to what was
+     going on, or how or when these doings were likely to end. All
+     was doubt, uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable. The only
+     information to be procured was from the bearers of some wounded
+     men as they passed now and then to the Ambulance (the temporary
+     hospital established at the Church of the Assumption). But no two
+     accounts were alike. I was suffering deep anxiety concerning a
+     good kind French family of my acquaintance, living within a five
+     minutes' walk of this place. 'Could I by any possibility procure a
+     commissionaire to carry a note for me? I'll give him five francs
+     (the hire being ten sous).' 'Not, sir,' said my _concierge_, 'if
+     you would give a hundred!' The poor general wanted some soldiers
+     from the barracks (next to the Assumption) to carry an order
+     for him. After great difficulty the wife of the _concierge_ was
+     allowed to go and fetch one; but she was searched for ammunition
+     by the first sentinel, and then passed on thus and back again
+     from one to another. No post in--no letters--no newspapers.
+     At length, at a month's end, night came. That night like the
+     last--'Sentinelle prenez garde � vous,' &c. &c.
+
+     "On Monday morning (26th), after a sleepless night--for, for any
+     means we had of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents might at
+     any moment be expected to attack this quarter, a quarter marked
+     down by them for fire and pillage--at about eight o'clock, I
+     lay down on a sofa and slept soundly till ten; I awoke, and was
+     struck by the appalling silence! This is a noisy street. Always
+     from about seven in the morning till late in the day one's head
+     is distracted by the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these
+     are now added the cries of the vendors of cheap newspapers),
+     the passage of carriages and carts of all descriptions,
+     street-singers, organ-grinders endless, the screeching of parrots
+     and barking of dogs exposed for sale by a _grocer_ on the
+     opposite side of the way, together with the swarming of his and
+     his neighbour's dirty children--all was hushed; not a footfall,
+     'not (a line that is not often applicable here) a drum was
+     heard.' Yes, I repeat it, this universal silence was appalling!
+     Not a person, save the still guards on duty, was to be seen. The
+     shops were all closed, and, but for this circumstance, it seemed
+     like a Sunday! Strange! (and I find it was the same with many
+     other persons to whom I have mentioned the circumstance) I was
+     uncertain during these anxious days as to the day of the week.
+     At about eleven o'clock the _concierge_ came to tell me that the
+     insurrection was at an end. In less than an hour there was heard
+     a sharp fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The insurgents had strengthened themselves
+     at that point (she came to say), but that, so far as she could
+     learn, General Cavaignac had at length resolved, by bombarding the
+     _quartier_, to suppress the insurrection before the day should
+     end. _And he did!_
+
+     "Frequently during the day parties of tired soldiers, scarcely
+     able to walk, passed on their way from the scene of action to
+     their barracks or their bivouac; wounded men were every now and
+     then brought to the Ambulance close by--one a Cuirassier, who, as
+     the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and just raised his hand
+     in sign of recognition, which fell again at his side; and, most
+     striking of all, bands of prisoners from among the insurgents!!
+     Among them such hideous faces! scarcely human! No one knows whence
+     they come. Like the stormy petrel, they only are seen in troubled
+     times. I saw some such in the days of February, but never before,
+     nor afterwards, till now. Imagine O. Smith, well "made-up"
+     for one of the bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody
+     melodramas--a Parisian dandy compared with some of these. Some of
+     them naked to the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard matted
+     and of incalculable growth, bloodshot eyes, scowling ferocious
+     brutes, their tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder--creatures
+     to look at and shudder! And into their hands was Paris and its
+     peaceable honest inhabitants threatened to fall. With this I end.
+
+     Ever, my dear Dickens,
+
+        Cordially and sincerely yours,
+
+              John Poole.
+
+     "I began this on Saturday, and have been writing it, as best as I
+     can, till now, Tuesday, three o'clock. Pray acknowledge the receipt
+     when or if you receive it. This is a general letter to you all. If
+     Forster thinks any paragraph of this worthy the _Examiner_, he may
+     use it. Why does not the rogue write to me? Has he, or can he have,
+     taken huff at anything? though I cannot imagine why or at what. But
+     _nobody_ writes to me. I can and will, some day, tell you a comic
+     incident connected with all this, but it would not have been in
+     keeping with the rest of this letter. Paris is now quiet, but very
+     dull."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 11.
+
+    "_All round the house is the jet black night;
+      It stares through the window-pane;
+    It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
+      And it moves with the moving flame._
+
+    _Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,
+      With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;
+    And all round the candle the crooked shadows come
+      And go marching along up the stair._
+
+    _The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,
+      The shadow of the child that goes to bed--
+    All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
+      With the black night overhead._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+On the beautiful rocks of Red Head, near Arbroath, and surrounded by
+the glamour of Sir Walter Scott's "Antiquary," which was written in
+the alongside village of Auchmithie, and the plot and incidents of
+which are principally placed here, stands Ethie Castle, the Scotch
+home of the Earls of Northesk, and once one of the many residences of
+Cardinal Beaton, whose portrait by Titian hangs in the hall.
+
+Many of the quaint old rooms have secret staircases at the bed-heads
+leading to rooms above or below, and forming convenient modes of
+escape if the occupants of the middle chambers were threatened with
+sudden attack. There are also some dungeon-like rooms below, with
+walls of vast thickness, and "squints" through which to fire arrows
+or musket-balls. The castle has been greatly improved and partly
+restored by its last owner, without removing or destroying any of its
+characteristic points.
+
+Searching, when a guest there some years ago, amongst the literary and
+other curious remains, which add a great charm to this most interesting
+house, the writer was impressed with the following characteristic
+letter from Charles II. to the then Lord Northesk, which he was
+permitted to copy, and now to print. The letter is curious, as showing
+the evident belief that the King held in his Divine right to interfere
+with his subjects' affairs.
+
+It is a holograph, beautifully written in a small clear hand --- not
+unlike that of W. M. Thackeray --- and has been fastened with a seal,
+still unbroken, no larger than a pea, but which nevertheless contains
+the crown and complete royal arms, and is a most beautiful specimen
+of seal-engraving. It would be interesting to know if this seal still
+exists amongst the curiosities at Windsor Castle:---
+
+            Whitehall, _20 Nov. 1672_.
+
+     "My Lord Northesk,
+
+     I am so much concerned in my L^d Balcarriess that, hearing he
+     is in suite of one of your daughters, I must lett you know, you
+     cannot bestow her upon a person of whose worth and fidelity I
+     have a better esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend to you
+     and your Lady, your franck compliance with his designe, and as I
+     do realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to do him good as
+     occasion offers, as well for his father's sake as his owne, so if
+     you and your Lady condescend to his pretension, and use him kindly
+     in it, I shall take it very kindly at your hands, and reckon it to
+     be done upon the accounte of
+
+     Your affectionate frinde,
+
+              Charles R."
+
+     _For the_ Earle of Northesk.
+
+
+Looking at the fine portrait of the recipient of this royal request,
+which hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting expression of
+the otherwise handsome face, it is not difficult to presume that he
+somewhat resented this interference with his domestic plans. No copy of
+Lord Northesk's reply exists, but its contents may be guessed by the
+second letter from Whitehall, this time written by Lord Lauderdale:--
+
+            Whitehall, _18 Jany. 1673_.
+
+     "My Lord,
+
+     Yesterday I received yours of the 7th instant, and, according to
+     your desire, I acquainted the King with it. His Majesty commanded
+     me to signify to you that he is satisfied. For as he did recommend
+     that marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to both parties,
+     so he did not intend to lay any constraint upon you. Therfor he
+     leaves you to dispose of your daughter as you please. This is by
+     His Majesty's command signified to your Lordship by,
+
+        My Lord,
+
+     Your Lordship's most humble servant,
+
+              Lauderdale."
+
+     Earl Northesk.
+
+As, however, the marriage eventually did take place, let us hope that
+the young couple arranged it themselves, without any further expression
+of Royal wishes by the evidently well-meaning, if somewhat imperative,
+King.
+
+Ethie has, of course, its family legends and ghosts--what old Scotch
+house is without them?--but the following, which I am most kindly
+permitted to repeat, is so curious in its modern confirmation, that it
+is well worth adding to the store of such weird narratives.
+
+Many years ago, it is said that a lady in the castle destroyed her
+young child in one of the rooms, which afterwards bore the stigma of
+the association. Eventually the room was closed, the door screwed up,
+and heavy wooden shutters were fastened outside the windows. But those
+who occupied the rooms above and below this gruesome chamber would
+often hear, in the watches of the night, the pattering of little feet
+over the floor, and the sound of the little wheels of a child's cart
+being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity connected with this sound
+being, that one wheel creaked and chirruped as it moved. Years rolled
+by, and the room continued to bear its sinister character until the
+late Lord Northesk succeeded to the property, when he very wisely
+determined to bring, if possible, the legend to an end, and probe the
+ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious base.
+
+Consequently he had the outside window shutters removed, and the
+heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then, with some members of his family
+present, ordered the door to be forced back. When the room was open
+and birds began to sing, it proved to be quite destitute of furniture
+or ornament. It had a bare hearth-stone, on which some grey ashes still
+rested, and by the side of the hearth was a child's little wooden
+go-cart on four solid wooden wheels!
+
+Turning to his daughter, my lord asked her to wheel the little carriage
+across the floor of the room. When she did so, it was with a strange
+sense of something uncanny that the listeners heard one wheel creak and
+chirrup as it ran!
+
+Since then the baby footsteps have ceased, and the room is once more
+devoted to ordinary uses, but the ghostly little go-cart still rests at
+Ethie for the curious to see and to handle. Many friends and neighbours
+yet live who testify to having heard the patter of the feet and the
+creak of the little wheel in former days, when the room was a haunted
+reality, but now the
+
+    "Little feet no more go lightly,
+                      Vision broken!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 12
+
+                                    "_I work on,
+    Through all the bristling fence of nights and days,
+    Which hedge time in from the eternities._"
+              --Mrs. Browning.
+
+
+The late Cardinal Manning always felt a great interest in our parish of
+Brasted. In former times it formed part of Hever Chase, the property
+of Sir Thomas Boleyn (the father of Queen Anne Boleyn), who lived at
+Hever Castle, about four miles from Brasted, a fine Tudor specimen of
+domestic architecture, which is now somewhat jealously shown to the
+public on certain days. Hever Castle is the original of Bovor Castle,
+immortalised by Mr. Burnand in his wonderful "Happy Thoughts."
+
+The Cardinal's father, who was at one time an opulent city merchant,
+and sometime Governor of the Bank of England, owned the estate of
+Combe Bank, formerly the English location of the Argyll family, whose
+Duke sat in the House of Lords, until quite a recent date, as Baron
+Sundridge, the name of the adjacent village.
+
+In Sundridge Church are some family busts of the Argylls by Mrs. Dawson
+Damer, who stayed much at Combe Bank, and who lies buried with all her
+graving and sculpting tools in Sundridge churchyard.
+
+The Cardinal and his elder brother, Charles Manning, passed some
+youthful years in this house, and when financial trouble overtook
+their father, and he was obliged to part with the property, it became
+the ever-present desire and day-dream of the elder son to succeed in
+life and repurchase the place. He succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a
+very long and happy one; but he never became the owner of Combe Bank,
+the hope to do so only fading with his life.
+
+He owned, or leased, a pleasant old house at Littlehampton; and if
+his brother, the Cardinal, was in need of rest, he would lend it to
+him, when the Cardinal's method of relaxation was to go to bed in a
+sea-looking room, and, with window open, read, write, and contemplate
+for some three or four days and nights, and then arise refreshed like a
+giant, and return to the manifold duties waiting for him in town.
+
+The Cardinal's home in London was formerly the Guard's Institute in
+the Vauxhall Bridge Road, which, failing in its first intention, was
+purchased as the palace for the then newly-elected Cardinal-Archbishop
+of Westminster. It proved to be rather a dreary, draughty,
+uncomfortable abode, but having the advantage of a double staircase and
+some large reception rooms, was useful for the clerical assemblies he
+used to invoke.
+
+I had the privilege, without being a member of his church, of being
+allowed to attend the meetings of the _Academia_ which the Cardinal
+held every now and then during the London season. His friends would
+gather in one of the big rooms a little before eight in the evening,
+and sit in darkened circles around a small centre table, before which
+a high-backed carved chair stood. The entire light for the apartment
+proceeded from two big silver candlesticks on the table. As the clock
+chimed eight, the Cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and skull-cap,
+would glide into the room, and standing before the episcopal chair,
+murmur a short Latin prayer, after which the discussion of the evening
+would begin; when all that wished had had their little say, the
+Cardinal replied to the points raised by the various speakers, and
+closed the debate; after which he held a sort of informal reception,
+welcoming individually every guest.
+
+No one but a Rembrandt could give the beautiful effect of the
+half-lights and heavy black shadows of this striking gathering, with
+its centre of colour and light in the tall red figure of the Cardinal,
+his noble face and picturesque dress forming a mind-picture which can
+never fade from the memory. The strong theatrical effect, combined
+with the real simplicity of the scene, the personal interest of many of
+those who took part in the discussion, the associations with the past,
+the speculation whither the innovation of the installation of a Roman
+Catholic Archbishop in Westminster was tending, giving the observer
+bountiful food for much solemn thought.
+
+Upon our book-shelves repose four volumes of the Cardinal's sermons,
+preached when a member of the Church of England, and Archdeacon of
+Chichester. They were bought at Bishop Wilberforce's sale, who was
+the Cardinal's brother-in-law, and contain the autograph of William
+Wilberforce, the bishop's eldest brother. Upon the same shelf will
+be found a copy of "Parochial Sermons" by John Henry Newman, Vicar
+of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford. This volume formerly belonged to
+Bishop Stanley, and came from the library of his celebrated son, Arthur
+Penrhyn Stanley, sometime Dean of Westminster.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A good book might be written by one who is duly qualified on "the Poets
+who are not read." It would not be flattering to the ghosts of many
+of the departed great, but there is so much assumption on the part of
+the general reader, that he knows them all, has read them all, and
+generally likes them all, which if examined into closely would prove
+a snare and a delusion, that one is tempted to administer some gentle
+interrogatories upon the subject. First and foremost, then, who now
+reads Byron? His works rest on the shelves, it is true, but are they
+ever opened, except to verify a quotation? Does the general reader
+of this time steadily go through "Childe Harold," "Don Juan," and
+his other splendid works. Not death but sleep prevails, from which
+perchance one day he may awake and again enjoy his share of fame and
+favour. It is the fashion with many persons to express the utmost
+sympathy with and acute knowledge of the work of Robert Browning, but
+we doubt if many of these could pass a Civil Service examination in the
+very poems they name so glibly. He is so hard to understand without
+time and close study, that few have the inclination to give either in
+these days of pressure, worry, and rush.
+
+Upon neglected shelves Cowper and Crabbe lie dusty and unopened--the
+only person who read Crabbe in these days was the late Edward
+FitzGerald; and it is a small class apart that still looks up to
+Wordsworth. The stars of Keats and Shelley, it is true, are just now in
+the ascendant, and may so remain for a little while.
+
+It is difficult and dangerous, we are told, to prophesy unless we know,
+but our private opinion is that Lord Tennyson's fame has been declining
+since his death, and that a large portion of his poems and all his
+plays will die, leaving a living residuum of such splendid work as
+"Maud," "In Memoriam," and some of his short poems.
+
+America has furnished us with Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose charm
+and finish is likely to continue its hold upon our imagination;
+then there is the Quaker poet Whittier, who will probably only live
+in a song or two; and Longfellow, whose popularity has a long time
+since declined. He once wrote a sort of novel or romance called
+"Hyperion," which showed his reading public for the first time that he
+was possessed of a gentle humour, which does not often appear in his
+poems. For instance, one of his characters, by name Berkley, wishing to
+console a jilted lover, says--
+
+"'I was once as desperately in love as you are now; I adored, and was
+rejected.'
+
+"'You are in love with certain attributes,' said the lady.
+
+"'Damn your attributes, madam,' said I; 'I know nothing of attributes.'
+
+"'Sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you have been drinking.'
+
+"So we parted. She was married afterwards to another, who knew
+something about attributes, I suppose. I have seen her once since, and
+only once. She had a baby in a yellow gown. I hate a baby in a yellow
+gown. How glad I am she did not marry me."
+
+The fate of most poets is to be cut up for Dictionaries of Quotations,
+for which amiable purpose they are often admirably adapted.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 13.
+
+    _"She will return, I know she will,
+    She will not leave me here alone._"
+
+
+Staying many years ago in a pleasant country-house, whilst walking home
+after evening church my host remarked, as we passed in the growing
+darkness a house from which streamed a light down the path from the
+front door, "Ah! Jane has not yet returned." The phrase sounded odd,
+and when we were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room, he that evening
+told me the following story, which, however, then stopped midway, but
+to which I am now able to add the sequel.
+
+A certain John Manson (the name is, of course, fictitious), an elderly
+wealthy City bachelor, married late in life a young girl of great
+beauty, and with no friends or relations.
+
+She found her husband's country home, in which she was necessarily much
+alone, very dull, and she thought that he was hard and unsympathising
+when he was at home; whereas, although a curt, reserved manner gave
+this impression, he was really full of love for, and confidence in his
+young wife, and inwardly chafed at and deplored his want of power to
+show what his real feelings were.
+
+The misunderstanding between them grew and widened, like the poetical
+"rift within the lute," and soon after the birth of her child, a girl,
+she left her home with her baby, merely leaving a few lines of curt
+farewell, and was henceforth lost to him. His belief in her honesty
+never wavered; and night after night, with his own hand, he lighted and
+placed in a certain hall-window a lamp which thus illuminated the path
+to the door, saying, "Jane will return, poor dear; and it's sure to be
+at night, and she'll like to see the light."
+
+Years passed by, and Jane made no sign, the light each evening shining
+uselessly; and still a stranger to her home, she died, leaving her
+daughter, now a beautiful girl of twenty, and marvellously like what
+her mother was when she married.
+
+The husband, unaware of the death of his wife, himself came to lay
+him for the last beneath his own roof-tree, and still his one cry
+was, "Jane will return." It seemed as if he could not pass in peace
+from this world's rack until it was accomplished--when, lo! a miracle
+came to pass; for the daughter arrived one evening with a letter from
+her mother, written when she was dying, and asking her husband's
+forgiveness, and the light still beamed from the beacon window.
+
+The old man was only semi-conscious, and mistaking his child for her
+mother, with a strong voice cried out, "I knew you'd come back," and
+died in the moment of the joy of her supposed return.
+
+By a curious coincidence, since writing this true story, which was
+told to me in 1865, some of the incidents, in an altered form, have
+found a place in Mr. Ian Maclaren's popular book, "Beside the Bonnie
+Brier Bush." It would be interesting to know from whence he drew his
+inspiration, and whether his story should perchance trace back to a
+common ancestor in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few years ago Mr. Walter Hamilton published, in six volumes, the most
+complete collection of English parodies ever brought together. Amongst
+others, he gave a vast number upon the well-known poem by Charles Wolfe
+of "Not a drum was heard." Page after page is covered with them, upon
+every possible subject; but the following one, written by an "American
+cousin" many years ago, and which was not accessible to Mr. Hamilton,
+is perhaps worth repeating and preserving. He called it "The Mosquito
+Hunt," and it runs as follows, if my memory serves me faithfully, I
+having no written note of it:--
+
+    "Not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum,
+      As around our chamber we hurried,
+    In search of the insect whose trumpet and drum
+      Our delectable slumber had worried.
+
+    We sought for him darkly at dead of night,
+      Our coverlet carefully turning,
+    By the shine of the moonbeam's misty light,
+      And our candle dimly burning.
+
+    About an hour had seemed to elapse,
+      Ere we met with the wretch that had bit us;
+    And raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps,
+      Which made the mosquito's quietus.
+
+    Quickly and gladly we turned from the dead,
+      And left him all smash'd and gory;
+    We blew out the candle, and popped into bed,
+      And determined to tell you the story!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 14.
+
+    "_The welcome news is in the letter found,
+    The carrier's not commissioned to expound:
+    It speaks itself._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+A pleasant hour may perhaps be passed in searching through the
+family autograph-box in the book-room. Its contents are varied and
+far-fetched. A capital series of letters from that best and most genial
+of correspondents, James Payn, are there to puzzle, by their very
+difficult calligraphy, the would-be reader. Mr. Payn, a dear friend
+to Foxwold, is now a great invalid, and a brave sufferer, keeping,
+despite his pain, the same bright spirit, the same brilliant wit,
+and delighting with the same enchanting conversation. Out of all his
+work, there is nothing so beautiful as his lay-sermons, published in
+a small volume called "Some Private Views;" and but a little while
+since he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most affecting study, called
+"The Backwater of Life;" it has only up to the present time appeared
+in the _Cornhill Magazine_, but will doubtless be soon collected with
+other work in a more permanent form. It is a pathetic picture of how
+suffering may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and courage.
+
+As Mr. Leslie Stephen well says in his brother's life, "For such
+literature the British public has shown a considerable avidity ever
+since the days of Addison. In spite of occasional disavowals, it
+really loves a sermon, and is glad to hear preachers who are not bound
+by the proprieties of the religious pulpit. Some essayists, like
+Johnson, have been as solemn as the true clerical performer, and some
+have diverged into the humorous with Charles Lamb, or the cynical with
+Hazlitt."[2]
+
+In Mr. Payn's lay-sermons we have the humour and the pathos, the tears
+being very close to the laughter; and they reflect in a peculiarly
+strong manner the tender wit and delicate fancy of their author.
+
+But to return to our autograph-box. Here we find letters from such
+varied authors as Josef Israels, the Dutch painter, Hubert Herkomer, W.
+B. Richmond, Mrs. Carlyle, Wilkie Collins, Dean Stanley, and a host of
+other interesting people. Perhaps a few extracts, where judicious and
+inoffensive, may give an interest to this especial chat.
+
+The late Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah was in herself, both socially and
+intellectually, a very remarkable woman. Born in the Lake Country, and
+belonging to the Society of Friends, she formed, as a girl, many happy
+friendships with the Wordsworths, the Southeys, the Coleridges, and
+all that charmed circle of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings and
+doings are so full of interest, and so dearly cherished.
+
+These friendships she continued to preserve after her marriage, and
+when she had exchanged her lovely lake home for an equally beautiful
+and interesting one on the Cornish coast, first at Perran and
+afterwards at Trebah.
+
+One of her special friendships was with Hartley Coleridge, who indited
+several of his sonnets to his beautiful young friend.
+
+The subjoined letter gives a pleasant picture of his friendly
+correspondence, and has not been included in the published papers by
+his brother, the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, who edited his remains.
+
+  "Dear Sarah,
+
+            If a stranger to the fold
+    Of happy innocents, where thou art one,
+    May so address thee by a name he loves,
+    Both for a mother's and a sister's sake,
+    And surely loves it not the less for thine.
+    Dear Sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee
+    That I should choose the quaint disguise of verse,
+    And, like a mimic masquer, come before thee
+    To tell my simple tale of country news,
+    Or,--sooth to tell thee,--I have nought to tell
+    But what a most intelligencing gossip
+    Would hardly mention on her morning rounds:
+    Things that a newspaper would not record
+    In the dead-blank recess of Parliament.
+    Yet so it is,--my thoughts are so confused,
+    My memory is so wild a wilderness,
+    I need the order of the measured line
+    To help me, whensoe'er I would attempt
+    To methodise the random notices
+    Of purblind observation. Easier far
+    The minuet step of slippery sliding verse,
+    Than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose.
+
+        Since you have left us, many a beauteous change
+    Hath Nature wrought on the eternal hills;
+    And not an hour hath past that hath not done
+    Its work of beauty. When December winds,
+    Hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves,
+    Shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night,
+    'Twas sweet, for watchers such as I, to mark
+    How bright, how very bright, the stars would shine
+    Through the deep rifts of congregated clouds;
+    How very distant seemed the azure sky;
+    And when at morn the lazy, weeping fog,
+    Long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake,
+    Whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun
+    Shed on the western hills his rosiest beams,
+    I thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale
+    Had lost one heart that could have felt its peace,
+    One eye that saw its beauties, and one soul
+    That made its peace and beauty all her own.
+
+        One morn there was a kindly boon of heaven,
+    That made the leafless woods so beautiful,
+    It was sore pity that one spirit lives,
+    That owns the presence of Eternal God
+    In all the world of Nature and of Mind,
+    Who did not see it. Low the vapour hung
+    On the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers
+    The lower regions of the mountainous round;
+    But every summit, and the lovely line
+    Of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky
+    Boldly defined. The cloudless sun dispelled
+    The hazy masses, and a lucid veil
+    But softened every charm it not concealed.
+    Then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side--
+    Young oak, yet laden with sere foliage;
+    Larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top
+    And spiney garb of horizontal boughs;
+    The veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined,
+    As if some D�mon dwelt within its trunk,
+    And shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd
+    The holly and the yew, that never fade
+    And never smile; these, and whate'er beside,
+    Or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood,
+    Clothe the bleak strong girth of Silverhow
+    (You know the place, and every stream and brook
+    Is known to you) by ministry of Frost,
+    Were turned to shapes of Orient adamant,
+    As if the whitest crystals, new endow'd
+    With vital or with vegetative power,
+    Had burst from earth, to mimic every form
+    Of curious beauty that the earth could boast,
+    Or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes,
+    Frozen in an instant----"
+
+     "So much for verse, which, being execrably bad, cannot be excused,
+     except by friendship, therefore is the fitter for a friendly
+     epistle. There's logic for you! In fact, my dear lady, I am so
+     much delighted, not to say flattered, by your wish that I should
+     write to you, that I can't help being rather silly. It will be
+     a sad loss to me when your excellent mother leaves Grasmere;
+     and to-morrow my friend Archer and I dine at Dale End, for our
+     farewell. But so it must be. I am always happy to hear anything of
+     your little ones, who are such very sweet creatures that one might
+     almost think it a pity they should ever grow up to be big women,
+     and know only better than they do now. Among all the anecdotes
+     of childhood that have been recorded, I never heard of one so
+     characteristic as Jenny-Kitty's wish to inform Lord Dunstanville
+     of the miseries of the negroes. Bless its little soul! I am truly
+     sorry to hear that you have been suffering bodily illness, though
+     I know that it cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. I hope
+     little Derwent did not disturb you with his crown; I am told he is
+     a lovely little wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine. I hope
+     he will see his way better with them. Derwent has never answered
+     my letter, but I complain not; I dare say he has more than enough
+     to do.[3] Thank you kindly for your kindness to him and his lady.
+     I hope the friendship of Friends will not obstruct his rising in
+     the Church, and that he will consult his own interest prudently,
+     paying court to the powers that be, yet never so far committing
+     himself as to miss an opportunity of ingratiating himself with
+     the powers that may be. Let him not utter, far less write, any
+     sentence that will not bear a twofold interpretation! For the
+     present let his liberality go no further than a very liberal
+     explanation of the words consistency and gratitude may carry
+     him; let him always be honest when it is his interest to be so,
+     and sometimes when it may appear not to be so; and never be a
+     knave under a deanery or a rectory of five thousand a year! My
+     best remembrances to your husband, and kisses for Juliet and
+     Jenny-Kitty, though she did say she liked Mr. Barber far better
+     than me. I can't say I agree with her in that particular, having a
+     weak partiality for
+
+     Your affectionate friend,
+              Hartley Coleridge."
+
+Another friend of the Fox family was the late John Bright, and the
+following letter to the now well-known Caroline Fox of Penjerrick will
+be read with interest:--
+
+            Torquay, 10 _mo._ 13, 1868.
+
+     "My dear Friend,
+
+     I hope the 'one cloud' has passed away. I was much pleased with
+     the earnestness and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask thee
+     for a copy of it, but was afraid to give thee the trouble of
+     writing it out for me.
+
+     "For myself, I have endeavoured only to speak when I have had
+     something to say which it seemed to me ought to be said, and I did
+     not feel that the sentiment of the poem condemned me.
+
+     "We had a pleasant visit to Kynance Cove. It is a charming
+     place, and we were delighted with it. We went on through Helston
+     to Penzance: the day following we visited the Logan Rock and the
+     Land's End, and in the afternoon the celebrated Mount--the weather
+     all we could wish for. We were greatly pleased with the Mount,
+     and I shall not read 'Lycidas' with less interest now that I have
+     seen the place of the 'great vision.' We found the hotel to which
+     you kindly directed us perfect in all respects. On Friday we came
+     from Penzance to Truro, and posted to St. Columb, where we spent a
+     night at Mr. Northy's--the day and night were very wet. Next day
+     we posted to Tintagel, and back to Launceston, taking the train
+     there for Torquay.
+
+     "We were pressed for time at Tintagel, but were pleased with what
+     we saw.
+
+     "Here, we are in a land of beauty and of summer, the beauty beyond
+     my expectation, and the climate like that of Nice. Yesterday we
+     drove round to see the sights, and W. Pengelly and Mr. Vivian
+     went with us to Kent's Cavern, Anstey's Cove, and the round of
+     exquisite views. We are at Cash's Hotel, but visit our friend
+     Susan Midgley in the day and evening. To-morrow we start for
+     Street, to stay a day or two with my daughter Helen, and are to
+     spend Sunday at Bath. We have seen much and enjoyed much in our
+     excursion, but we shall remember nothing with more pleasure than
+     your kindness and our stay at Penjerrick.
+
+     "Elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate remembrance of you,
+     and in the hope that thy dear father did not suffer from the 'long
+     hours' to which my talk subjected him. When we get back to our
+     bleak region and home of cold and smoke, we shall often think of
+     your pleasant retreat, and of the wonderful gardens at Penjerrick.
+
+     Believe me,
+
+         Always sincerely thy friend,
+              John Bright."
+
+     _To_ Caroline Fox,
+     Penjerrick, Falmouth.
+
+There are few men whose every uttered word is regarded with greater
+respect and interest than Mr. Ruskin. It is well known that he has
+always been a wide and careful collector of minerals, gems, and fine
+specimens of the art and nature world. One of his various agents,
+through whom at one time he made many such purchases, both for himself
+and his Oxford and Sheffield museums, was Mr. Bryce Wright, the
+mineralogist, and to him are addressed the following five letters:--
+
+              Brantwood, Coniston, Lancashire,
+                  _22nd May '81_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very greatly obliged to you for letting me see these opals,
+     quite unexampled, as you rightly say, from that locality--but
+     from that locality _I_ never buy--my kind is the opal formed in
+     pores and cavities, throughout the mass of that compact brown
+     jasper--this, which is merely a superficial crust of jelly on the
+     surface of a nasty brown sandstone, I do not myself value in the
+     least. I wish you could get at some of the geology of the two
+     sorts, but I suppose everything is kept close by the diggers and
+     the Jews at present.
+
+     "As for the cameos, the best of the two, 'supposed' (by whom?) to
+     represent Isis, represents neither Egyptian nor Oxonian Isis, but
+     only an ill-made French woman of the town bathing at Boulogne, and
+     the other is only a 'Minerve' of the Halles, a _petroleuse_ in a
+     mob-cap, sulphur-fire colour.
+
+     "I don't depreciate what I want to buy, as you know well, but it
+     is not safe to send me things in the set way 'supposed' to be
+     this or that! If you ever get any more nice little cranes, or
+     cockatoos, looking like what they're supposed to be meant for,
+     they shall at least be returned with compliments.
+
+     "I send back the box by to-day's rail; put down all expenses to my
+     account, as I am always amused and interested by a parcel from you.
+
+     "You needn't print this letter as an advertisement, unless you
+     like!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _23rd May_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     The silver's safe here, and I want to buy it for Sheffield, but
+     the price seems to me awful. It must always be attached to it
+     at the museum, and I fear great displeasure from the public for
+     giving you such a price. What is there in the specimen to make it
+     so valuable? I have not anything like it, nor do I recollect its
+     like (or I shouldn't want it), but if so rare, why does not the
+     British Museum take it.
+
+     Ever truly yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _Wednesday_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very glad of your long and interesting letter, and can
+     perfectly understand all your difficulties, and have always
+     observed your activity and attention to your business with much
+     sympathy, but of late certainly I have been frightened at your
+     prices, and, before I saw the golds, was rather uneasy at having
+     so soon to pay for them. But you are quite right in your estimate
+     of the interest and value of the collection, and I hope to be
+     able to be of considerable service to you yet, though I fear it
+     cannot be in buying specimens at seventy guineas, unless there is
+     something to be shown for the money, like that great native silver!
+
+     "I have really not been able to examine the red ones yet--the
+     golds alone were more than I could judge of till I got a quiet
+     hour this morning. I might possibly offer to change some of the
+     locally interesting ones for a proustite, but I can't afford any
+     more cash just now.
+
+     Ever very heartily yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood,
+      _3rd Nov. or 4th (?), Friday_.
+
+     "Dear Wright,
+
+     My telegram will, I hope, enable you to act with promptness about
+     the golds, which will be of extreme value to me; and its short
+     saying about the proustites will, I hope, not be construed by you
+     as meaning that I will buy them also. You don't really suppose
+     that you are to be paid interest of money on minerals, merely
+     because they have lain long in your hands.
+
+     "If I sold my old arm-chair, which has got the rickets, would
+     you expect the purchaser to pay me forty years' interest on the
+     original price? Your proustite may perhaps be as good as ever
+     it was, but it is not worth more to me or Sheffield because you
+     have had either the enjoyment or the care of it longer than you
+     expected!
+
+     "But I am really very seriously obliged by the _sight_ of it, with
+     the others, and perhaps may make an effort to lump some of the new
+     ones with the gold in an estimate of large purchase. I think the
+     gold, by your description, must be a great credit to Sheffield and
+     to me; perhaps I mayn't be able to part with it!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Herne Hill, S.E., _6 May '84_.
+
+     "My dear Bryce,
+
+     I can't resist this tourmaline, and have carried it off with me.
+     For you and Regent Street it's not monstrous in price neither; but
+     I must send you back your (pink!) apatite. I wish I'd come to see
+     you, but have been laid up all the time I've been here--just got
+     to the pictures, and that's all.
+
+     Yours always,
+
+       (much to my damage!)
+
+              J. R."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[2] "Life of Sir T. FitzJames Stephen," by his Brother, Leslie Stephen.
+Smith, Elder & Co., 1895.
+
+[3] The Rev. Derwent Coleridge was at the time keeping a school at
+Helston, which was within an easy distance of Perran, where Mrs. Fox
+was at this time living.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 15.
+
+    "_Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,
+    Or wise beyond what other women are._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+An oval picture that hangs opposite Sheridan's portrait is a fine
+presentment of the Marquis de S�gur, by Vanloo.
+
+The Marquis was born in 1724, and eventually became a marshal of
+France, and minister of war to Louis XVI. After his royal master's
+execution he fell into very low water, and it was only by his calm
+intrepidity in very trying circumstances that he escaped the
+guillotine. His memoirs have from time to time appeared, generally
+under the authority of some of his descendants. This interesting
+portrait belonged to the family of de S�gur, and was parted with by the
+present head of the house to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who gave it
+to us.
+
+The history of this admirable woman is deeply interesting in every
+detail. She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay, a member of a good
+old French family, who was ruined by the French Revolution of 1785.
+Born at Versailles in the year 1812, her father had the child named
+Yolande Marie Louise; and she was educated at the Conservatoire in
+Paris, where they soon discovered her wonderful talent for dancing.
+This art was encouraged, developed, and trained to the uttermost; and
+when, in due time, she appeared upon the ballet stage, she took the
+town by storm, and at once came to the foremost rank as the well-known
+Mademoiselle Duvernay, rivalling, if not excelling, the two Ellsslers,
+Cerito, and Taglioni.
+
+She made wide the fame of the Cachucha dance, which was specially
+rearranged for her; and the world was immediately deluged with her
+portraits, some good, some bad, many very apocryphal, and many very
+indifferent.
+
+In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful "Roundabout Papers," which
+perhaps contain some of the most beautiful work he ever gave us, he
+thus recalls, in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone, his recollections
+of the great _danseuse_. "In William IV.'s time, when I think of
+Duvernay dancing in as the Bayad�re, I say it was a vision of
+loveliness such as mortal eyes can't see nowadays. How well I remember
+the tune to which she used to appear! Kaled used to say to the Sultan,
+'My lord, a troop of those dancing and singing girls called Bayad�res
+approaches,' and to the clash of cymbals and the thumping of my heart,
+in she used to dance! There has never been anything like it--never."
+
+After a few years of brilliant successes she retired from the stage
+she had done so much to grace and dignify, and married the late Mr.
+Stephens Lyne Stephens, who in those days, and after his good old
+father's death, was considered one of the richest commoners in England.
+
+He died in 1860, after a far too short, but intensely happy, married
+life; and having no children, left his widow, as far as was in his
+power, complete mistress of his large fortune. They were both devoted
+to art, and being very acute connoisseurs, had collected a superb
+quantity of the best pictures, the rarest old French furniture, and the
+finest china.
+
+The bulk of these remarkable collections was dispersed at Christie's
+in a nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and proved the great attraction
+of the season, buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna, and Berlin eagerly
+competing with London for the best things.
+
+Some of the more remarkable prices are here noted, as being of
+permanent interest to the art-loving world, and testifying how little
+hard times can affect the sale of a really fine and genuine collection.
+
+As a rule, the prices obtained were very far in excess of those paid
+for the various objects, in many cases reaching four and five times
+their original cost.
+
+A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070 guineas. The beautiful S�vres
+oviform vase, given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de Montcalm, 1900
+guineas. A pair of S�vres blue and gold Jardini�res, 5-1/4 inches high,
+1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000 guineas. A small upright Louis
+XVI. secretaire, 800 guineas. Another rather like it, 960 guineas. A
+marble bust of Louis XIV., 567 guineas. Three S�vres oviform vases,
+from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000 guineas. A single oviform
+S�vres vase, 760 guineas. A pair of S�vres vases, 1050 guineas. A
+very beautiful Sedan chair, in Italian work of the sixteenth century,
+600 guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas. A Louis XV. upright
+secretaire, 1320 guineas. "Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon,
+2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length portrait by Velasquez, 4300
+guineas. A bust of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas. "Faith
+presenting the Eucharist," a splendid work by Murillo, 2350 guineas.
+"The Prince of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas. "The Village
+Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660 guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work,
+1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame Vig�e le Brun, 2250 guineas.
+A lovely portrait by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated
+picture of "La Gamme d'Amour," 3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's
+Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively 1300 guineas and 1050
+guineas. Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry, 690 guineas; and
+a small head of a girl by Greuze sold for 710 guineas.
+
+Small pieces of china of no remarkable merit, but bearing a greatly
+enhanced value from belonging to this celebrated collection, obtained
+wonderful prices. For example:--
+
+     A Sang-de Boeuf Crackle vase, 12-1/2 inches high, 280 guineas. A
+     pair of china Kylins, 360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155
+     guineas. A pair of S�vres dark blue oviform vases, 1000 guineas.
+     Three S�vres vases, 1520 guineas. Two small panels of old French
+     tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair, 710 guineas. A circular
+     S�vres bowl, 13 inches in diameter, 300 guineas.
+
+The ormolu ornaments of the time of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for
+instance--
+
+     An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas. A pair of wall lights, 102
+     guineas. A pair of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another pair,
+     500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons, 220 guineas.
+
+Little tables of Louis XV. period also sold amazingly.
+
+     An oblong one, 21-1/2 inches wide, 285 guineas. An upright
+     secretaire, 580 guineas. A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315
+     guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany cabinets, 950 guineas. A
+     pair of Louis XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas; and an
+     ebony cabinet of the same time fetched the extraordinary price of
+     1700 guineas; and a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for 300
+     guineas.
+
+The grand total obtained by this remarkable sale, together with some of
+the plate and jewels, amounted to �158,000!
+
+For thirty-four years, as a widow, Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered,
+with the utmost wisdom and the broadest generosity, the large trust
+thus placed in her most capable hands. Building and restoring churches
+for both creeds (she being Catholic and her late husband Protestant);
+endowing needy young couples whom she considered had some claim upon
+her, if only as friends; further adding to and completing her art
+collections, and finishing and beautifying her different homes in
+Norfolk, Paris, and Roehampton.
+
+Generous to the fullest degree, she would warmly resent the least
+attempt to impose upon her. An amusing instance of this occurred many
+years ago, when one of her husband's relations, considering he had
+some extraordinary claim upon the widow's generosity, again and again
+pressed her for large benevolences, which for a season he obtained.
+Getting tired of his importunity, she at last declined to render
+further help, and received in reply a very abusive letter from the
+claimant, which wound up by stating that if the desired assistance
+were not forthcoming by a certain date, the applicant would set up
+a fruit-stall in front of her then town-house in Piccadilly, and so
+shame her into compliance with his request. She immediately wrote him
+a pretty little letter in reply, saying, "That it was with sincere
+pleasure she had heard of her correspondent's intention of pursuing for
+the first time an honest calling whereby to earn his bread, and that if
+his oranges were good, she had given orders that they should be bought
+for her servants' hall!"
+
+During the Franco-German war of 1870 she remained in Paris in her
+beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-Honor�, and would daily sally
+forth to help the sufferings which the people in Paris were undergoing.
+No one will ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice she then made.
+Her men-servants had all left to fight for their country, and she was
+alone in the big house, with only two or three maids to accompany her.
+During the Commune she continued her daily walks abroad, and was always
+recognised by the mob as a good Frenchwoman, doing her utmost for the
+needs of the very poor. Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace, who
+was also in Paris during these troubles, well earned his baronetcy by
+his care of the poor English shut up in the city during the siege; but
+although Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite as wide and generous as
+his, she never received, nor did she expect or desire it, one word of
+acknowledgment or thanks from any of the powers that were.
+
+She died at Lynford, from the result of a fall on a parquet floor,
+on the 2nd September 1894, aged 82, full of physical vigour and
+intellectual brightness, and still remarkable for her personal beauty;
+finding life to the last full of many interests, but impressed by
+the sadness of having outlived nearly all her early friends and
+contemporaries.
+
+She lingered nearly three weeks after the actual fall, during which her
+affectionate gratitude to all who watched and tended her, her bright
+recognition when faces she loved came near, her quick response to all
+that was said and done, were beautiful and touching to see, and very
+sweet to remember. Her last words to the writer of these lines when
+he bade her farewell were, "My fondest love to my beloved Julian;"
+our invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she always evinced the deepest
+affection and sympathy.
+
+In her funeral sermon, preached by Canon Scott, himself an intimate
+friend, in the beautiful church she had built for Cambridge, to a
+crowded and deeply sympathetic audience, he eloquently observed:
+"Greatly indeed was she indebted to God; richly had she been
+endowed with gifts of every kind; of natural character, of special
+intelligence, of winning attractiveness, which compelled homage from
+all who came under the charm of her influence; with the result of
+widespread renown and unbounded wealth.... Therefore it was that the
+blessing of God came in another form--by the discipline of suffering
+and trial. There was the trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she was,
+of her husband, of whose affection we may judge by the way in which
+he had laid all he possessed at her feet; French and Catholic, living
+amongst those who were not of her faith or nation, though enjoying
+their devoted friendship. With advancing years, deprived by death even
+of those intimate friends, she was lonely in a sense throughout her
+life.... Nor must it be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge was
+not merely an easy one out of superfluous wealth, but that it involved
+some personal sacrifice. Friends of late had missed the sight of costly
+jewels, which for years had formed a part of her personal adornment.
+What had become of a necklace of rarest pearls, now no longer
+worn?--They had been sacrificed for the erection of this very church."
+
+Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the Roman Catholic Bishop of
+Northampton to his flock, dated the 28th of November 1894, he says:
+"We take occasion of this our Advent pastoral, to commend to your
+prayers the soul of one who has recently passed away, Mrs. Lyne
+Stephens. Her innumerable works of religion and charity during her
+life, force us to acknowledge our indebtedness to her; she built
+at her sole cost the churches of Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge,
+and she gave a large donation for the church at Wellingborough. It
+was she who gave the presbytery and the endowment of Lynford, the
+rectory at Cambridge, and our own residence at Northampton. By a large
+donation she greatly helped the new episcopal income fund, and she was
+generous to the Holy Father on the occasion of his first jubilee. Our
+indebtedness was increased by her bequests, one to ourselves as the
+Bishop, one for the maintenance of the fabric of the Cambridge Church,
+another for the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a fourth to the Clergy
+Fund of this Diocese. Her name has been inscribed in our _Liber Vit�_,
+among the great benefactors whether living or dead, and for these we
+constantly offer up prayers that God may bless their good estate in
+life, and after death receive them to their reward."
+
+To the inmates of Foxwold she was for nearly a quarter of a century
+a true and loving friend, paying them frequent little visits, and
+entering with the deepest sympathy into the lives of those who also
+loved her very dearly.
+
+The house bears, through her generosity, many marks of her exquisite
+taste and broad bounty, and her memory will always be fragrant and
+beautiful to those who knew her.
+
+There are three portraits of her at Roehampton. The first, as a most
+winsome, lovely girl, drawn life-size by a great pastellist in the
+reign of Louis Philippe; the second, as a handsome matron, in the happy
+years of her all too short married life; and the last, by Carolus
+Duran, was painted in Paris in 1888. This has been charmingly engraved,
+and represents her as a most lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey
+hair and large violet eyes, very wide apart. She was intellectually
+as well as physically one of the strongest women, and she never had a
+day's illness, until her fatal accident, in her life. Her conversation
+and power of repartee was extremely clever and brilliant. A shrewd
+observer of character, she rarely made a mistake in her first estimate
+of people, and her sometimes adverse judgments, which at first
+sight appeared harsh, were invariably justified by the history of
+after-events.
+
+Her charity was illimitable, and was always, as far as possible,
+concealed. A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted, generous woman, her
+death has created a peculiar void, which will not in our time be again
+filled:--
+
+    "For some we loved, the loveliest and the best,
+    That from his Vintage, rolling Time hath prest,
+    Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before,
+    And one by one crept silently to rest."
+
+
+
+
+The Index
+
+    "_Studious he sate, with all his books around,
+    Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound;
+    Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there;
+    Then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+  America. Humours of a voyage to, 18.
+
+
+  Baxter, Robert. His hospitality, 53.
+
+  Bedford Town and Schools, 73.
+
+  Binders and their work, 41.
+
+  Bradley, A. G. Life of Wolfe, 10.
+
+  Bright, John. Letter from, 134.
+
+
+  Calverley, C. S., 2.
+
+  Charles II. and Lord Northesk, 101.
+
+  Christie's. A sale at, 11.
+
+  Christie's. Lyne Stephens sale, 148.
+
+  Coleridge, Hartley. Letter from, 129.
+
+  Combe Bank, 109.
+
+  Craze, modern. For work, 48.
+
+  Cunarder. On board a, 18.
+
+  "Cynical Song of the City," 50.
+
+
+  Dickens. On over-work, 48.
+
+  Dobson, Austin, 63.
+
+
+  Ethie Castle and its ghost story, 104.
+
+
+  Fox, Caroline. John Bright's letter to, 134.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, of Trebah, 128.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, and Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+  Foxwold and its early train, 51.
+
+  French Revolution of 1848, 85.
+
+
+  Gainsborough's portrait of Wolfe, 8.
+
+  Ghost story at Ethie, 104.
+
+  Gosse, Edmund. Poem by, 61.
+
+  Grain, R. Corney. Sketch of, 3.
+
+    "         "     His charity, 4.
+
+    "         "     Letter from, 6.
+
+  Guthrie, Anstey. Bon-mot of, 52.
+
+
+  Hamilton's parodies, 123.
+
+  Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 59.
+
+  Humours of an Atlantic voyage, 18.
+
+
+  "Jane will return." A true story, 119.
+
+  Jerrold, Douglas. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Laureateship, The, 58.
+
+  Lehmann, R. C. Poem by, 78.
+
+  Letter from John Bright, 134.
+
+    "      "  Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+    "      "  Charles II., 101.
+
+    "      "  R. Corney Grain, 6.
+
+    "      "  Lord Lauderdale, 102.
+
+  Letter from John Poole, 83.
+
+    "      "  John Ruskin, 137.
+
+    "      "  G. A. Sala, 69.
+
+  Longfellow. Extract from, 117.
+
+  Lyne Stephens, Mrs., 144.
+
+    "      "     Sketch of her life, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her art collections, 147.
+
+    "      "     Thackeray's sketch of her, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her death, 154.
+
+    "      "     Her funeral sermon, 155.
+
+    "      "     Great sale at Christie's, 148.
+
+  Lytton, Robert, Lord. Poem by, 60.
+
+
+  Manning, Cardinal, 109.
+
+  Manning, Charles John, 109.
+
+  Mayhew, Horace, 67.
+
+  Meadows, Kenny. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Newgate. Visit to, 34.
+
+  Northesk, Lord, and Charles II., 101.
+
+
+  Parody. An unknown one, 123.
+
+  Payn, Mr. James. His lay-sermons, 126.
+
+  Poets who are not read, 115.
+
+  Poole, John. Letter from, 83.
+
+  Portland, Duke of, and his books, 42.
+
+  Portraits of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 159.
+
+  _Punch._ Memorials of, 66.
+
+     "    Portraits of writers to, 66.
+
+
+  Reynolds, Sir Joshua. Portrait by, 11.
+
+  Ruskin, John. Letters from, 137.
+
+
+  Sala, G. A. Letter from, 69.
+
+    "     "   Picture by, 69.
+
+  Sales at Christie's, 11, 148.
+
+  Schools, Bedford, 73.
+
+  S�gur, Marquis de. Portrait of, 143.
+
+  Sheridan, R. B. Portrait of, 11.
+
+  Stevenson, R. L., 77.
+
+  Stories. American, 18.
+
+  Scott, Canon. Sermon by, 155.
+
+  Symon, Arthur. Poem by, 63.
+
+
+  Texts, inappropriate, 55, 56, 57.
+
+  Thackeray's description of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 145.
+
+
+  Westerham. Birthplace of Wolfe, 9.
+
+  Wolfe, General. Portrait of, 9.
+
+  Woods, Mr. Thomas H., 13.
+
+  Work, modern. Craze for, 48.
+
+  Z---- sale of pictures, 15.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Reader (_loquiter_).
+
+    "_Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door;
+    Sir, let me see your works and you no more!_"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+
+
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+  |  Transcriber's Note:                                               |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  In this etext the caret ^ represents a superscript character.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.      |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant  |
+  |  form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.             |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved to the beginning of   |
+  |  the chat in which they occurred. The List of Illustrations        |
+  |  paginations were not corrected.                                   |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Other corrections:                                                |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  -- Page 89: 'Hotel des Affaires �trangers,' changed to 'H�tel des |
+  |     Affaires �trang�res,'                                          |
+  |  -- Page 125: Caligraphy changed to calligraphy.                   |
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
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+
+/* VARIANTS FOR @MEDIA HANDHELD */
+@media handheld
+    {
+     .poetry {
+       margin-left:15%;
+       margin-right:15%;
+       max-width: 30em;
+       display: block; }
+
+     img.drop-cap
+	  {
+	   visibility: hidden;
+	   display: none;
+	  }
+
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+	  {
+	   margin-left: 0em;
+	   padding-right: 0em;
+	  }
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+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
+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: Chats in the Book-Room
+
+Author: Horace N. Pym
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44810]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHATS IN THE BOOK-ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter"><a name="cover" id="cover"></a>
+  <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Front Cover" /></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing5"><a name="i_001.jpg" id="i_001.jpg"></a>
+  <img src="images/i_001.jpg"
+      alt="Chats in the Book-room" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class="hangindent blockquote">Of this Book only One Hundred and Fifty
+Copies were privately printed for the
+Author, on Arnold's Unbleached Handmade
+Paper, in the month of January
+1896&mdash;of which this is</p>
+<p class="center"><i>No. 25</i></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter right"><a name="i_002.jpg" id="i_002.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_002.jpg"
+      alt="H.N. Pym" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="PORTRAIT" id="PORTRAIT">
+    <img src="images/i_004.jpg" alt="Picture of Horace Pym" /></a>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="i_007.jpg" id="i_007.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_007.jpg"
+      alt="Title Page" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<h1><big>Chats in the<br />
+Book-room</big></h1>
+
+<p class="center">By<br />
+<br />
+Horace N. Pym<br />
+<br />
+<small>Editor of Caroline Fox's Journals; A Mother's Memoir;<br />
+A Tour Round my Book-shelves, etc. etc.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>With Portrait by MOLLY EVANS, and Two<br />
+Photogravures of the Book-room</i></p>
+
+<p class="blockquote topspacing3">"If any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories,
+be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is
+one of your familiar acquaintances) be not too forward to contradict
+him."&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sir Matthew Hale.</span></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing5 center">Privately Printed for the Author in the Year
+1896 by Ballantyne, Hanson &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p class="center"><i>To<br />
+My Dearly Loved Son<br /><br />
+<big>Julian Tindale Pym</big><br /><br />
+I dedicate these "Chats in the Book-room,"
+to which I ask him to extend that noble
+"Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill,"
+which gilds and elevates his life.</i></p>
+
+<p class="right">H. N. P.</p>
+
+<p class="smcap">Christmas,<br />
+Foxwold Chase, 1895.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter"><a name="i_011.jpg" id="i_011.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_011.jpg"
+      alt="Page Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>Table of Contents</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+      <div class="verse">"<i>Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>That warm its creeping life-blood till the last.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">O. W. Holmes.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="right topspacing2">Page</p>
+
+<table class="toctable" id="TOC" summary="Contents">
+  <tr>
+    <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><span class="smcap"><a href="#INTRODUCTION" style="text-decoration: none;">
+      Introduction</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2">1</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_I" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT I.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Richard Corney Grain&mdash;His home qualities&mdash;His
+	  love for children&mdash;His benevolence&mdash;His power of pathos&mdash;
+      His letter on a holiday</td>
+	<td class="c2">3</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_II" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT II.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a portrait of General Wolfe&mdash;On the use of portraits
+	  in country-houses&mdash;On a sale at Christie's&mdash;A curious story
+	  about a curious sale</td>
+	<td class="c2">8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>
+	<a href="#CHAT_III" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT III.</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On holiday trips&mdash;Across the Atlantic&mdash;Some
+	  humours of the voyage&mdash;Some stories told in the gun-room</td>
+	<td class="c2">18</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_IV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT IV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a private visit to Newgate prison&mdash;In Execution yard&mdash;
+	Some anecdotes of the condemned</td>
+	<td class="c2">34</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_V" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT V.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Book-binding&mdash;Some worthy members of the craft
+	  &mdash;On over-work and the modern race for wealth&mdash;Charles Dickens
+	   on work&mdash;A Song of the City&mdash;Anecdote of Mr. Anstey Guthrie</td>
+	<td class="c2">41</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VI" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VI.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On an uninvited guest&mdash;Her illness&mdash;Her
+	  convalescence&mdash;Her recovery&mdash;Her gratitude&mdash;On texts
+	  in bedrooms&mdash;A welcoming banner</td>
+	<td class="c2">53</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On some minor poets&mdash;On <i>vers de Soci�t�</i>&mdash;
+	On Praed, C. S. Calverley, Locker-Lampson, and Mr. A. Dobson</td>
+	<td class="c2">58</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_VIII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT VIII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Mr. Punch and his founders&mdash;Concerning portraits
+	  of Jerrold, Kenny Meadows, and Horace Mayhew&mdash;On Mr. Sala as a
+	  painter&mdash;A letter from G. A. Sala</td>
+	<td class="c2">66</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
+	<a href="#CHAT_IX" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT IX.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On our schooldays&mdash;On Bedford, past and present&mdash;
+	  On R. C. Lehmann&mdash;A poem by him&mdash;A Christmas greeting by
+	  H. E. Luxmoore</td>
+	<td class="c2">73</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_X" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT X.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry"&mdash;His friendship
+	  with Dickens&mdash;His letter to Dickens detailing the French Revolution
+	  of 1848</td>
+	<td class="c2">82</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XI" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XI.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Ethie Castle&mdash;Its artistic treasures&mdash;A letter
+	  from Charles II.&mdash;A true family ghost story</td>
+	<td class="c2">99</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Cardinal Manning&mdash;Dramatic effect at his
+	  <i>Academia</i>&mdash;On Poets who are never read, or "hardly ever"</td>
+	<td class="c2">108</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XIII" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XIII.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On a true story, called "Jane will return"&mdash;On
+	  Hamilton's "Parodies"&mdash;An unknown one, by the Rev. James Bolton</td>
+	<td class="c2">119</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>
+	  <a href="#CHAT_XIV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XIV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On autographs&mdash;Mr. James Payn and his
+	  lay-sermons&mdash;Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah&mdash;Her friendship with
+	  Hartley Coleridge&mdash;A letter from him&mdash;A letter from John
+	  Bright to Caroline Fox&mdash;Mr. Ruskin as a mineral collector&mdash;Five
+	  unpublished letters from him</td>
+	<td class="c2">125</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="chap-no"><a href="#CHAT_XV" style="text-decoration: none;">CHAT XV.</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+	<td class="c1">On Mrs. Lyne Stephens&mdash;The story of her early
+	  life&mdash;Thackeray's sketch of her&mdash;Her art collections&mdash;A
+	  wonderful sale at Christie's&mdash;Her charities and friendships&mdash;Her
+	  death&mdash;Her funeral sermon&mdash;Her portraits</td>
+	<td class="c2">143</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="poetry-container topspacing2">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>I come not here your morning hour to sadden,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>A limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,&mdash;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="right">&mdash;The Iron Gate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3"><a name="i_014.jpg" id="i_014.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_014.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<h2>List of Illustrations</h2>
+
+<table class="toctable" id="ILLUSTRATIONS" summary="Illustrations">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#PORTRAIT" style="text-decoration: none;">Portrait</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2"><i>To face the Title Page</i></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#BOOK_ROOM_1" style="text-decoration: none;">
+	  The Book Room (First View)</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2"><i>Page</i> 58</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="c1"><span class="smcap">
+	  <a href="#BOOK_ROOM_2" style="text-decoration: none;">
+	  The Book Room (Second View)</a></span></td>
+	<td class="c2">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;" 113</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing5"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_017a.jpg" id="i_017a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_017a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Some of your griefs you have cured,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And the sharpest you still have survived;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>But what torments of pain you endured,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>From evils that never arrived!</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">A few years ago a little
+inconsequent volume was
+launched on partial acquaintance,
+telling of some
+ordinary books which line our friendly
+shelves, of some kindly friends who
+had read and chatted about them, some
+old stories they had told, and some
+happy memories they had awakened.</p>
+
+<p>When those acquaintances had read
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>
+the little book, they asked, like Oliver,
+for more. A rash request, because, unlike
+Oliver, they get it in the shape
+of another "Olla Podrida" of book-chat,
+picture-gossip, and perchance a
+stray "chestnut." Their good-nature
+must be invoked to receive it, like
+C. S. Calverley's sojourners&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Who when they travel, if they find</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">That they have left their pocket-compass,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Or Murray, or thick boots behind,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">They raise no rumpus."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1"><a name="i_018.jpg" id="i_018.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_018.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_019a.jpg" id="i_019a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_019a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_I" id="CHAT_I">Chat No. 1.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>With too serene a conscience drew</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Your easy breath, and slumbered through</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>The gravest issue;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>But we, to whom our age allows</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Look down upon your narrow house,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>Old friend, and miss you.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Austin Dobson.</span></div>
+
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_019b.jpg" alt="Letter S"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Since</span>
+we made our last
+"Tour Round the Book-shelves,"
+death has removed one of the kindest
+friends, and most genial companions, of
+the Book-room. In Richard Corney
+Grain, Foxwold has lost one of its
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>
+pleasantest and most welcome guests,
+and it is doubtful, well as the public
+cared for and appreciated his genius, if
+it knew or suspected how generous a
+heart, and how wide a charity, moved
+beneath that massive frame. When
+rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon
+thing for Dick Grain to dedicate
+them to the solace and amusement
+of some hospital or children's home,
+where, with a small cottage piano, he
+would, moving from ward to ward,
+give the suffering patients an hour's
+freedom from their pain, and some
+happy laughs amid their misery.</p>
+
+<p>One day, after a series of short performances
+in the different parts of one
+of our large London hospitals, he was
+about to sing in the accident ward,
+when the secretary to the hospital
+gravely asked him "Not to be too
+funny in this room, for fear he'd
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+make the patients burst their bandages!"</p>
+
+<p>Dick Grain was never so happy, so
+natural, or so amusing as when, of his
+own motion, he was singing to a nursery
+full of children in a country
+house.</p>
+
+<p>Those who knew him well were aware
+that, delightful as were all his humorous
+impersonations, he had a graver and
+more impressive side to his lovable and
+admirable character, and that he would
+sometimes, when sure he would be
+understood, sing a pathetic song, which
+made the tears flow as rapidly as in
+others the smiles had been evoked.</p>
+
+<p>Who that heard it will forget his
+little French song, supposed to be
+sung by one of the first Napoleon's
+old Guard for bread in the streets. He
+sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice
+a song of victory, breaking off in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+middle of a line full of the sound of
+battle to cough a hacking cough, and
+beg a sous for the love of God!</p>
+
+<p>Subjoined is one of his friendly little
+notes, full of the quiet happy humour
+that made him so welcome a guest in
+every friend's house.</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <div class="margin-left-60 smcap">Hothfield Place,</div>
+  <div class="smcap right">Ashford, Kent.</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Pym</span></p>
+
+<p>I shall be proud to welcome you
+and Mrs. Pym on Wednesday the 26th, but
+why St. George's Hall? Why not go at
+once to a play and not to an entertainment?
+Plays at night. Entertainments in the afternoon.
+Besides, we are so empty in the
+evenings now, the new piece being four
+weeks overdue. Anyhow, I hope to see you
+at 8 Weymouth Street on Nov. 26th, at any
+hour after my work, say 10.15 or 10.30, and
+so on, every quarter of an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"I am dwelling in the Halls of the Great,
+waited on by powdered menials, who rather
+look down on me, I think, and hide my
+clothes, and lay things out I don't wish to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+put on, and button my collar on to my shirt,
+and my braces on to my &mdash;&mdash;, and when I
+try to throw the braces over my shoulders I
+hit my head with the buckle, and get my
+collar turned upside down, and tear out the
+buttons in my endeavours to get it right; and
+they fill my bath so full, that the displacement
+caused by my unwieldy body sends
+quarts of water through the ceiling on to
+the drawing-room&mdash;the Red Drawing-room.
+Piano covered with the choicest products of
+Eastern towns. Luckily the party is small,
+so we only occupy the Dragon's Blood Room,
+so perhaps they won't notice it. But a truce
+to fooling till Nov. 26.&mdash;Yours sincerely,</p>
+
+<div class="right"><span class="smcap">R. Corney Grain</span>."</div>
+<div><i>Nov. 16, 1890.</i></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">He was one of the most gifted,
+warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism
+was all upon the surface, and was never
+unkind, the big heart beat true beneath.
+His premature death has eclipsed the
+honest gaiety of this nation&mdash;"he should
+have died hereafter."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_024.jpg" id="i_024.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_024.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_II" id="CHAT_II">Chat No. 2.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>To all the sensual world proclaim,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>One crowded hour of glorious life,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Is worth an age without a name.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;Old Mortality.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">A Picture</span>
+hangs at Foxwold
+of supreme interest
+and beauty, being a portrait
+of General Wolfe by Gainsborough.
+Its history is shortly this&mdash;painted
+in Bath in 1758, probably for
+Miss Lowther, to whom he was then
+engaged, and whose miniature he was
+wearing when death claimed him; it
+afterwards became the property of Mr.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
+Gibbons, a picture collector, who lived
+in the Regent's Park in London, descending
+in due course to his son, whose
+widow eventually sold it to Thomas
+Woolner, the R.A. and sculptor; it
+was bought for Foxwold from Mrs.
+Woolner in 1895.</p>
+
+<p>The great master has most wonderfully
+rendered the hero's long, gaunt,
+sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full
+of coming sorrow and present ill-health.
+His cocked hat and red coat slashed
+with silver braid are brilliantly painted,
+whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued
+by a touch of powder.</p>
+
+<p>One especial interest that attends this
+picture in its present home is, that
+within two miles of Foxwold he was
+born, and passed some youthful years in
+the picturesque little town of Westerham,
+his birthplace, and that his short
+and wonderful career will always be
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+especially connected with Squerryes
+Court, then the property of his friend
+George Warde, and still in the possession
+of that family.</p>
+
+<p>Until recently no adequate or satisfactory
+life of Wolfe existed, but Mr.
+A. G. Bradley has now filled the gap
+with his beautiful and affecting monograph
+for the Macmillan Series of
+English Men of Action: a little book
+which should be read by every English
+boy who desires to know by what
+means this happy land is what it is.</p>
+
+<p>In country houses the best decoration
+is portraits, portraits, and always portraits.
+In the town by all means show
+fine landscape and sea-scape&mdash;heathery
+hills and blue seas&mdash;fisher folks and
+plough boys&mdash;but when from your
+windows the happy autumn fields and
+glowing woods are seen, let the eye
+returning to the homely walls be
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+cheered with the answer of face to face,
+human interests and human features
+leading the memory into historic channels
+and memory's brightest corners.
+How pleasant it is in the room where,
+in the spirit, we now meet, to chat beneath
+the brilliant eyes of R. B. Sheridan,
+limned by Sir Joshua, or to note
+with a smile the dignified importance
+of Fuseli, painted by Harlow, or to
+turn to the last portrait of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds, painted by himself, and of
+which picture Mr. Ruskin once remarked,
+"How deaf he has drawn
+himself."</p>
+
+<p>Of the fashion in particular painters'
+works, Christie's rooms give a most
+instructive object-lesson. It is within
+the writer's memory when Romneys
+could be bought for �20 apiece, and
+now that they are fetching thousands,
+the wise will turn to some other master
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+at present neglected, and gather for
+his store pictures quite as full of beauty
+and truth, and whose price will not
+cause his heirs to blaspheme.</p>
+
+<p>A constant watchful attendance at
+Christie's is in itself a liberal education,
+and it seldom happens that those who
+know cannot during its pleasant season
+find "that grain of gold" which is
+often hidden away in a mass of mediocrity.
+And then those clever, courteous
+members of the great house are always
+ready to give the modest inquirer the
+full benefit of their vast knowledge,
+and, if necessary, will turn to their
+priceless records, and guide the timid,
+if appreciative, visitor into the right
+path of selection.</p>
+
+<p>What a delightful thing it is to be
+present at a field-day in King Street.
+The early lunch at the club&mdash;the settling
+into a backed-chair at the exactly
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+proper angle to the rostrum and the
+picture-stand. (The rostrum, by the
+way, was made by Chippendale for the
+founder of the house.) At one o'clock
+the great Mr. Woods winds his way
+through the expectant throng, and is
+promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps
+of which are as promptly tucked in and
+the business and pleasure of the afternoon
+begins. Mr. Woods, dominating
+his audience</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>gives a quick glance round the big
+room, now filled with well-known
+faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is
+often priceless. Sir William Agnew
+rubs shoulders with Lord Rosebery, and
+Sir T. C. Robinson whispers his doubts
+of a picture to a Trustee of the National
+Collection; old Mr. Vokins extols, if
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+you care to listen, the old English
+water-colourists, to many of whom he
+was a good friend, and Mr. George
+Redford makes some notes of the best
+pictures for the Press; but Mr. Woods'
+quiet incisive voice demands silence as
+Lot 1 is offered with little prefix, and
+soon finds a buyer at a moderate price.</p>
+
+<p>The catalogues, which read so pleasantly
+and convey so much within a
+little space, are models of clever composition,
+beginning with items of lesser
+interest and carefully leading up to the
+great attractions of the afternoon, which
+fall to the bid of thousands of guineas
+from some great picture-buyer, amidst
+the applause of the general crowd.</p>
+
+<p>A pure Romney, a winsome Gainsborough,
+a golden Turner, or a Corot
+full of mystery and beauty, will often
+evoke a round of hand-clapping when
+it appears upon the selling-easel, and a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+swift and sharp contest between two
+or three well-known connoisseurs will
+excite the audience like a horse-race, a
+fencing bout, or a stage drama.</p>
+
+<p>The history of Christie's is yet to
+be written, notwithstanding Mr. Redford's
+admirable work on "Art Sales,"
+and when it is written it should be one
+of the most fascinating histories of the
+nineteenth century; but where is the
+Horace Walpole to indite such a
+work? and who possesses the necessary
+materials?</p>
+
+<p>One curious little history I can tell
+concerning a sale in recent years of the
+Z&mdash;&mdash; collection of pictures and <i>objets
+d'art</i>, which will, to those who know it
+not, prove "a strange story."</p>
+
+<p>A former owner, distinguished by
+his social qualities and position, in a
+fit of passion unfortunately killed his
+footman. The wretched victim had no
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+friends, and was therefore not missed,
+and the only person, besides his slayer,
+aware of his death, and how it was
+caused, was the butler. The crime
+was therefore successfully concealed, and
+no inquiries made. But after a little
+time the butler began to use his knowledge
+for his own personal purposes.</p>
+
+<p>Putting the pressure of the blackmailer
+upon his unhappy master, he
+began to make him sing, by receiving
+as the price of his silence, first a fine
+picture or two, then some rare china,
+followed by art furniture, busts, more
+pictures, and more china, until he had
+well-nigh stripped the house.</p>
+
+<p>Still, like the daughter of the horse-leech,
+crying, "Give, give!" he made
+his nominal master assign to him the
+entire estates, reserving only to himself
+a life interest, which, in his miserable
+state of bondage, did not last long.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The chief butler on his master's
+death took his name and possessions,
+ousting the rightful heirs; and after
+enjoying a wicked, but not uncommon,
+prosperity with his stolen goods for
+some years, he also died in the odour
+of sanctity, and went to his own place.</p>
+
+<p>His successors, hearing uneasy rumours,
+determined to be rid of their tainted
+inheritance; so placed all the pictures
+and pretty things in the sale-market,
+and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten
+property.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_033.jpg" id="i_033.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_033.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_034a.jpg" id="i_034a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_034a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_III" id="CHAT_III">Chat No. 3.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+best holiday for an
+over-worked man, who has
+little time to spare, and
+who has not given "hostages
+to fortune," is to sail across the
+herring-pond on a Cunarder or White
+Star hotel, and so get free from newspapers,
+letters, visitors, dinner-parties,
+and all the daily irritations of modern
+life.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Those grand Atlantic rollers fill the
+veins with new life, the tired brain
+with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle
+days slip away all too soon, after which
+a short stay in New York or Boston
+City, and then back again.</p>
+
+<p>The study of character on board is
+always pleasant and instructive, and
+sometimes a happy friendship is begun
+which lasts beyond the voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Then, again, the cliques into which
+the passengers so naturally fall, is funny
+to watch. The reading set, who early
+and late occupy the best placed chairs,
+and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous
+literature, and are only roused
+therefrom by the ringing summons to
+meals; then there is the betting and
+gambling set, who fill card and smoking
+room as long as the rules permit, coming
+to the surface now and then for breath,
+and to see what the day's run has been,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
+or to organise fresh sweepstakes; then
+there is often an evangelical set, who
+gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted,
+and sing hymns, and address in
+fervid tones the sinners around them;
+then there are the gossips (most pleasant
+folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians,
+those who dress three times a
+day, and those who dress hardly at all:
+and so the drama of a little world is
+played before a very appreciative little
+audience.</p>
+
+<p>I remember on such a journey being
+greatly interested in the study of a
+delightful rugged old Scotch engineer,
+whose friendship I obtained by a genuine
+admiration for his devotion to his
+engines, and his belief in their personality.
+It was his habit in the evening,
+after a long day's run, to sit alongside
+these throbbing monsters and play his
+violin to them, upon which he was a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
+very fair performer, saying, "They deserved
+cheering up a bit after such a
+hard day's work!" This was a real and
+serious sentiment on his part, and inspired
+respect and an amused admiration
+on ours.</p>
+
+<p>The humours of one particular voyage
+which I have in my memory, were
+delightfully intensified by the presence
+on board of a very charming American
+child, called Flossie L&mdash;&mdash;, about fourteen
+years old, who by her capital
+repartees, acute observation, and pretty
+face, kept her particular set of friends
+very much alive, and made all who
+knew her, her devoted slaves and
+admirers.</p>
+
+<p>Her remark upon a preternaturally
+grave person, who marched the deck
+each day before our chairs, "that she
+guessed he had a lot of laughter coiled
+up in him somewhere," proved, before
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>
+the voyage was over, to be quite
+true.</p>
+
+<p>It was this gentleman who, one
+morning, solemnly confided to a friend
+that he was a little suspicious of the
+drains on board!</p>
+
+<p>Americanisms, which are now every
+one's property, were at this time&mdash;I am
+speaking of twenty years ago&mdash;not so
+common, and glided from Flossie's
+pretty lips most enchantingly. To be
+told on a wet morning, with half a gale
+of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat
+and gum-boots" to meet the elements,
+was at that day startling, if useful,
+advice. She professed a serious attachment
+for a New York cousin, aged
+sixteen, "Because," she said, "he is
+so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars,
+reads novels, and runs away when
+offered candy." Her quieter moments on
+deck were passed in reading 'Dombey
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+and Son,' which, when finished, she
+pronounced to be all wrong, "only one
+really nice man in the book&mdash;Carker&mdash;and
+he ought to have married Floey."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hugh Childers, then First Lord
+of the Admiralty, was a passenger on
+board our boat, and having with infinite
+kindness and patience explained to the
+child our daily progress with a big
+chart spread on the deck and coloured
+pins, was somewhat startled to see her
+execute a <i>pas seul</i> over his precious
+map and disappear down the nearest
+gangway, with the remark, "My sakes,
+Mr. Childers, how terribly frivolous
+you are!"</p>
+
+<p>She had a youthful brother on board,
+who, one day at dinner, astonished his
+table by coolly saying, as he pointed
+to a most inoffensive old lady dining
+opposite to him, "Steward, take away
+that woman, she makes me sick!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A stout and amiable friend of
+Flossie's, who shall be nameless in
+these blameless records, on coming in
+sight of land assumed, and I fear did it
+very badly, some emotion at the first
+sight of her great country, only to be
+crushed by her immediate order, given
+in the sight and hearing of some hundred
+delighted passengers, "Sailor, give
+this trembling elephant an arm, I guess
+he's going to be sick!" Luckily for
+him the voyage was practically over,
+but for its small remnant he was known
+to every one on board as the trembling
+elephant.</p>
+
+<p>One day a pleasant little American
+neighbour at dinner touched one's
+sense of humour by na�vely saying,
+"If you don't remove that nasty little
+boiled hen in front of you, I know I
+must be ill."</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a dull and solemn prig
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+on board, who at every meal gave us,
+unasked, and <i>apropos des bottes</i>, some
+tremendous facts and statistics to digest,
+such as the number of shrimps eaten
+each year in London, or how many
+miles of iron tubing go to make the
+Saltash bridge. Finding one morning
+on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy
+of Whitaker's Almanack and a volume
+of Mayhew's "London Labour and
+the London Poor," we recognised the
+source of his elucidations, and promptly
+consigned his precious books to a
+watery grave. Of that voyage, so far as
+he was concerned, the rest was silence.</p>
+
+<p>Upon remarking to an American on
+board that the gentleman in question
+was rather slow, he brought down a
+Nasmyth hammer with which to crack
+his nut by saying, "Slow, sir; yes, he's
+a big bit slower than the hour hand of
+eternity!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I remember on another pleasant
+voyage to Boston meeting and forming
+lasting friendship with the late Judge
+Abbott of that city, whose stories and
+conversation were alike delightful. He
+spoke of a rival barrister, who once
+before the law courts, on opening his
+speech for the defence of some notorious
+prisoner, said, "Gentlemen, I shall
+divide my address to you into three
+parts, and in the first I shall confine
+myself to the <i>Facts</i> of this case;
+secondly, I shall endeavour to explain
+the <i>Law</i> of this case; and finally, I
+shall make an all-fired rush at your
+passions!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Judge Abbott who told me
+that when at the Bar he defended, and
+successfully, a young man charged with
+forging and uttering bank-notes for
+large values. After going fully into the
+case, he was entirely convinced of his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
+client's innocence, an impression with
+which he succeeded in imbuing the
+court. After his acquittal, his client, to
+mark his extreme sense of gratitude to
+his counsel's ability, insisted upon paying
+him double fees. The judge's
+pleasure at this compliment became
+modified, when it soon after proved
+that the said fees were remitted in
+notes undoubtedly forged, and for the
+making of which he had just been
+tried and found "not guilty!"</p>
+
+<p>Speaking one day of the general
+ignorance of the people one met, he
+very aptly quoted one of Beecher
+Ward's witty aphorisms, "That it is
+wonderful how much knowledge some
+people manage to steer clear of."
+Another quotation of his from the same
+ample source, I remember especially
+pleased me. Speaking of the morbid
+manner in which many dwelt persistently
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+on the more sorrowful incidents
+and accidents of their lives, he said,
+"Don't nurse your sorrows on your
+knee, but spank them and put them
+to bed!"</p>
+
+<p>On one visit to the States I took a letter
+of special commendation to the worthy
+landlord of the Parker House Hotel
+in Boston. On arriving I delivered my
+missive at the bar, was told the good
+gentleman was out, was duly allotted
+excellent rooms, and later on sat down
+with an English travelling companion
+to an equally excellent dinner in the
+ladies' saloon. In the middle of our
+repast we saw a small Jewish-looking
+man wending his way between the
+many tables in, what is literally, the
+marble hall, towards us. Standing
+beside our table, and regarding us with
+the benignant expression of an archbishop,
+he carefully, though unasked,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+filled and emptied a bumper of our
+well-iced Pommery Greno, saying,
+"Now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my
+name's Parker!"</p>
+
+<p>Upon a first visit to America few
+things are more striking than the originality
+and vigour of some of the advertisements.
+One advocating the use of
+some hair-wash or cream pleased us
+greatly by the simple reason it gave for
+its purchase, "that it was both elegant
+and chaste." Another huge placard
+represented our Queen Victoria arrayed
+in crown, robes, and sceptre, drinking
+old Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla out
+of a pewter pint-pot. I also saw a
+most elaborate allegorical design with
+life-size figures, purporting to induce
+you to buy and try somebody's tobacco.
+I remember that a tall Yankee, supposed
+to represent Passion, was smoking
+the said tobacco in a very fiery and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+aggressive manner, that with one hand
+he was binding Youth and Folly
+together with chains, presumably for
+refusing him a light, whilst with the
+other he chucked Vice under the chin,
+she having apparently been more amenable
+and polite.</p>
+
+<p>To note how customs change, I one
+day in New York entered a car in the
+Broadway, taking the last vacant seat.
+A few minutes, and we stopped again
+to admit a stout negress laden with her
+market purchases. The car was hot,
+and I was glad to yield her my seat, and
+stand on the cooler outside platform.
+She took it with a wide grin, saying
+with a dramatic wave of her dusky
+paw, "You, sir, am a gentleman, de
+rest am 'ogs!" a speech which would
+not so many years ago have probably
+cost her her life at the next lamppost.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A Washington doctor once told me
+the following little story, which seems
+to hold a peculiar humour of its own.
+A country lad and lassie, promised
+lovers, are in New York for a day's
+holiday. He takes her into one of those
+sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and
+pastry shops which abound, and asks
+her tenderly what she'll have? She
+thinks she'll try a brandied peach. The
+waiter places a large glass cylinder
+holding perhaps a couple of dozen of
+them on their table, so that they may
+help themselves. These peaches, be it
+known, are preserved in a spirituous
+syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed,
+and are very expensive. To
+the horror of the young man, the girl
+just steadily worked her way through
+the whole bottleful. Having accomplished
+this feat without turning a
+hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+delicate would-be sarcastic note, asks
+with effusion, if she won't try another
+peach? To which the girl coyly
+answers, "No thank you, I don't like
+them, the seeds scratch my throat!"</p>
+
+<p>As is well known, most of the waiters
+and servants in American hotels are Irish.
+Dining with a dear old Canadian friend
+at the Windsor Hotel in New York,
+we were particularly amused by the
+quaint look and speech of the Irish
+gentleman who condescended to bring
+us our dinner. He had a face like an
+unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling
+merry little blue eyes. Not feeling
+well, I had prescribed for myself a
+water diet during the meal, and hoped
+my guest would atone for my shortcomings
+with the wine. After he had
+twice helped himself to champagne,
+the while I modestly sipped my seltzer,
+my waiter's indignation at what he
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+supposed was nothing less than base
+treachery, found vent in the following
+stage-aside to me: "Hev an oi,
+sorr, on your frind, he's a-gaining
+on ye!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_049.jpg" id="i_049.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_049.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_050.jpg" id="i_050.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_050.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_IV" id="CHAT_IV">Chat No. 4.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Give them strength to brook and bear,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Trial pain, and trial care;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Let them see Thy saving light;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Be Thou 'Watchman of their night.'</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sabbath Evening Song.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Armed</span>
+with a special order
+of the then Lord Mayor, Sir
+Robert Nicholas Fowler,
+I sallied forth one lovely
+blue day in June, and timidly rang the
+little brass bell beside the little green
+door giving into Newgate Prison.</p>
+
+<p>The gaol is now only used to house
+the prisoners on the days of trial, and
+for executions on the days of expiation;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+at other times, save for the presence of
+a couple of warders, it is entirely empty,
+and empty it was on this my day of call.</p>
+
+<p>Presenting my mandate to the very
+civil warder who replied to my summons,
+I was (he having to guard the
+door) handed to his colleague's care,
+to be shown the mysteries of this great
+silent tomb, lying so gloomily amid the
+City's stir.</p>
+
+<p>The first point of interest was the
+chapel, with that terribly suggestive
+chair, standing alone in the centre of
+the floor opposite the pulpit, on which
+the condemned used to sit the Sunday
+before his dreadful death, and, the observed
+of all the other prisoners, heard
+his own funeral sermon preached&mdash;a
+refinement of cruelty difficult to understand
+in this very Christian country.
+Then followed a visit to the condemned
+cells, two in number, and which are
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+situated far below the level of the outside
+street. They are small square
+rooms with whitewashed walls, enlivened
+by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen
+texts; in each is a fixed truckle
+bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat on
+either side. The warder in attendance
+stated that he had passed many nights
+in them with condemned prisoners, and
+had rarely found his charges either restless
+or unable to sleep well, long, and
+calmly!</p>
+
+<p>There is an old story told of a murderer,
+about whose case some doubt was
+raised, and to whom the prison chaplain,
+as he lay under sentence of death,
+lent a Bible. In due course a free
+pardon arrived, and as the prisoner left
+the gaol, he turned to the chaplain
+saying, "Well, sir, here's your Bible;
+many thanks for the loan of it, and I
+only hope I shall never want it again."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then we visited the pinioning room;
+this process is carried out by strapping
+on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat,
+with buckles at the back and outside
+sockets for the arms and wrists. While
+putting on one of these, I found the
+leather was cold and damp; it then
+occurred to me, with some horror, that
+it was still moist with the death-sweat
+of the executed.</p>
+
+<p>The scaffold stands alone across one
+of the yards, in a little wooden building
+not inappropriately like a butcher's
+shop. When used, the large shutter
+in front is let down, and the interior is
+seen to consist of a heavy cross-beam
+on two uprights, a link or two of chain
+in the middle, a very deep drop, with
+padded leather sides to deaden the
+sound of the falling platform, a covered
+space on one side for the coffin, and on
+the other a strong lever, such as is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+used on railways to move the points,
+and which here draws the bolt, releasing
+the platform on which the culprit
+stands; a high stool for the victim,
+should he prove nervous or faint&mdash;and
+that is all the furniture and fittings of
+this gruesome building.</p>
+
+<p>The dark cell is perhaps the most
+dreadful part of this peculiarly ghastly
+show, and after being shut in it for a
+few minutes, which seemed hours, one
+fully understood its terrific taming
+power over the most rebellious prisoners:
+you are literally enveloped in a sort of
+velvety blackness that can be felt,
+which, with the absolute and awful
+silence, seemed to force the blood to
+the head and choke one.</p>
+
+<p>Upon asking the warder to tell us
+something of the idiosyncrasies of the
+more celebrated criminals he had known,
+he stated that Wainright the murderer
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
+was the most talkative, vain, and boastful
+person he had seen there, that his
+craving for tobacco was curiously extreme,
+and he was immensely gratified
+when the governor of the prison promised
+him a large cigar the night before
+his execution. The promise kept, he
+walked up and down the yard with
+the governor, detailing with unctuous
+pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions,
+like another Pepys. "But,"
+added my informant, "the pleasantest,
+cheeriest man we ever had to hang in
+my time was Dr. Lampson, full of fun
+and anecdote, with nice manners that
+made him friends all round. He was
+outwardly very brave in facing his fate,
+and yet, as he walked to the scaffold,
+those behind him saw all the back
+muscles writhing, working, and twitching
+like snakes in a bag, and thus
+belying the calm face and gentle smile
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+in front. Ah! we missed him very
+much indeed, and were very sorry to
+lose him. A real gentleman he was
+in every way!"</p>
+
+<p>It was pleasant, and a vast relief after
+this strange experience, to emerge suddenly
+from this dream of mad, sad, bad
+things into the roar of the City streets,
+to see the blue sky, and find men's faces
+looking once again pleasantly into our
+own; but, nevertheless, Newgate should
+be seen by the curious, and those who
+can do so without coercion, before it
+disappears.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_056.jpg" id="i_056.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_056.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_057a.jpg" id="i_057a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_057a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_V" id="CHAT_V">Chat No. 5.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>To all their dated backs he turns you round:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_057b.jpg" alt="Letter I"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">It</span>
+is the present fashion to
+extol the old bookbinders
+at the expense of the
+living, and for collectors
+to give fabulous prices for a volume
+bound by De Thou, Geoffroy Tory,
+Philippe le Noir, the two Eves (Nicolas
+and Clovis), Le Gascon, Derome, and
+others.</p>
+
+<p>Beautiful, rare, and interesting as their
+work is, I venture to say that we have
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+modern bookbinders in England and
+France who can, and do, if you give
+them plenty of time and a free hand
+as to price, produce work as fine, as
+original, as closely thought out, as
+beautiful in design, material, and colour,
+as that of any of the great masters of
+the craft of olden days.</p>
+
+<p>For perfectly simple work of the best
+kind, examine the bindings of the late
+Francis Bedford; and his name reminds
+me of a curious freak of the late Duke
+of Portland in relation to this art. He
+subscribed for all the ordinary newspapers
+and magazines of the day, and
+instead of consigning them to the waste-paper
+basket when read, had them whole
+bound in beautiful crushed morocco
+coats of many colours by the said Bedford;
+then he had perfectly fitting oaken
+boxes made, lined with white velvet, and
+fitted with a patent Bramah lock and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+duplicate keys, each box to hold one
+volume, the total cost of thus habiting
+this literary rubbish being about �40
+a volume. Bedford kept a special staff
+of expert workmen upon this curious
+standing order until the Duke died. By
+his will he, unfortunately, made them
+heirlooms, otherwise they would have
+sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles
+liking to have possessed a volume
+with so odd a history. Soon after the
+Duke's death I went over the well-known
+house in Cavendish Square with
+my kind friend Mr. Woods of King
+Street, and he showed me piles of these
+boxes, each containing its beautifully
+bound volume of uselessness.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to our sheepskins. I
+would ask, where can you see finer
+workmanship than Mr. Joseph W.
+Zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting
+covers? He once produced two lovely
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+pieces of softly tanned, vellum-like
+leather of the purest white colour, and
+asked if I knew what they were. After
+some ineffectual guesses, he stated that
+the one with the somewhat coarser texture
+was a man's skin, and the finer
+specimen a woman's. The idea was
+disagreeable, and I declined to purchase
+or to have any volumes belonging to my
+simple shelves clothed in such garments.</p>
+
+<p>An English bookbinder who made
+a name in his day was Hayday; he
+flourished (as the biographical dictionaries
+are fond of saying) in the beginning
+of the present reign. I possess
+Samuel Rogers' "Poems" and "Italy,"
+in two quarto volumes, bound by him
+very charmingly. In this size Turner's
+drawings, which illustrate these two
+books, are shown to admiration, and
+alone galvanise these otherwise dreary
+works. Hayday was succeeded by one
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+Mansell, who also did some good work;
+but I think domestic affliction beclouded
+his later years, and affected his business,
+as I have lost sight of him for some
+years.</p>
+
+<p>Among other English bookbinders
+of the present day I would name Tout,
+whose simple, Quaker-like work, with
+Grolier tooling, is worth seeing. Mackenzie
+was, in his day, a good old
+Scotch binder; but the treasure I have
+personally found and introduced to
+many, is my excellent friend Mr. Birdsall
+of Northampton. His specialty is
+supposed to be in vellum bindings, which
+material he manipulates with a grace
+and finish very satisfactory to see. He
+can make the hinges of a vellum-bound
+book swing as easily as a friend's door.
+He spares no time, thought, or trouble
+in working out suitable designs for the
+books entrusted to his care. For instance,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+I possess Benjamin D'Israeli's
+German Grammar, used by him when
+a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved,
+he specially cast a brass stamp,
+with D'Israeli's crest, which, impressed
+adown the back and on the panels, correctly
+finishes this interesting memento.
+Then, again, when he had Beau Brummell's
+"Life" to work upon, he used
+dies representing a poppy, as an emblem
+flower, a money-bag, very empty, and
+a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these
+show thought, as well as a pleasant
+fancy, and greatly add to the interest
+of the completed binding.</p>
+
+<p>I have some work by M. Marius
+Michel, the great French binder, whose
+show-cases in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain,
+in Paris, were a treat to examine.
+He was kind enough to let me one
+fine day select and take therefrom two
+volumes of E. A. Poe's works translated
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+and noted by Beaudelaire, beautifully
+clothed by him; and he, at the same
+visit, gave me an autograph copy of
+his "L'Ornamentation des Reliures
+Modernes," with which, when I returned
+to England, I asked Mr. Birdsall to do
+what he could. Set a binder to catch
+a binder, was in this case our motto,
+and Mr. Birdsall has, I think, fairly
+caught out his great rival, although I
+have not yet had an opportunity of
+taking M. Michel's opinion upon the
+Englishman's work.</p>
+
+<hr class="sect" />
+
+<p>One of the leading characteristics of
+the present day is its craze for work,
+unceasing work, work early and late,
+work done with a rush, destroying
+nerves, and rendering repose impossible.
+"Late taking rest and eating the bread of
+carefulness" do not go together, the bread
+being as a rule anything but carefully
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+consumed. R. L. Stevenson somewhere
+says, "So long as you are a bit of a
+coward, and inflexible in money matters,
+you fulfil the whole duty of man," and
+perhaps this is the creed of the present
+race of over-workers. In the City of
+London we see this hasting to be rich
+brought to the perfection of a Fine Art
+(with a capital F and a capital A).</p>
+
+<p>Charles Dickens, who always resolved
+the wit of every question into a nutshell,
+makes Eugene Wrayburn, in
+"Our Mutual Friend," strenuously
+object to being always urged forward
+in the path of energy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing like work," said
+Mr. Boffin; "look at the bees!"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," returned
+Eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but
+will you excuse my mentioning that I
+always protest against being referred to
+the bees? ... I object on principle,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+as a two-footed creature, to being constantly
+referred to insects and four-footed
+creatures. I object to being required
+to model my proceedings according to
+the proceedings of the bee, or the dog,
+or the spider, or the camel. I fully
+admit that the camel, for instance, is
+an excessively temperate person; but
+he has several stomachs to entertain
+himself with, and I have only one."...</p>
+
+<p>"But," urged Mr. Boffin, "I said the
+bee, they work."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," returned Eugene disparagingly,
+"they work, but don't you think they
+overdo it? They work so much more
+than they need&mdash;they make so much
+more than they can eat&mdash;they are so
+incessantly boring and buzzing at their
+one idea till Death comes upon them&mdash;that
+don't you think they overdo it?"</p>
+
+<p>Some time since I cut from the pages
+of the <i>St. James' Gazette</i> the following
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+"Cynical Song of the City," which
+pleasantly sets forth the present craze
+for work, and again proves, like Dickens'
+bee, that we rather overdo it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Through the slush and the rain and the fog,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">When a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">To the City we jolt and we jog</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">On foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">To labour a few years, and then have done,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A capital prospect at twenty-one!</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There's a wife and three children to keep,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">With chances of more in the offing;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We've a house at Earl's Court on the cheap,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And sometimes we get a day's golfing.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Well! sooner or later we'll have better fun;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The heart is still hopeful at thirty-one.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The boy's gone to college to-day,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The girls must have ladylike dresses;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Thank goodness we're able to pay&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The business has had its successes;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We must grind at the mill for the sake of our son.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Besides, we're still youngish at forty-one.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It has come! We've a house in the shires,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">We're one of the land-owning gentry,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The children have all their desires,</div>
+	  <div class="verse indent1_5">But <i>we</i> must do more double-entry;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
+        We must keep things together, no time left for fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Ah! had we been twenty&mdash;not fifty&mdash;one!</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A Baronet! J.P.! D.L.!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">But it means harder work, little pleasure;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We must stick to the City as well,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Though we're tired and longing for leisure.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">As rich as the Bank, though we can't chew a bun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">At seventy&mdash;eighty&mdash;or ninety-one."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="sect" />
+
+<p>Guests at Foxwold are given the opportunity,
+when black Monday arrives,
+of catching a most unearthly and uneasily
+early train, which involves their
+rising with anything but a lark, swallowing
+a hurried breakfast, a mounting
+into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon
+after eight, and then being puffed away
+through South-Eastern tunnels to the
+busy hum of those unduly busy men of
+whom we speak.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To catch this early train, which
+means that you "leave the warm precincts
+of your cheerful bed, nor cast one
+longing lingering look behind," some
+of our friends most justly object, preferring
+the early calm, the well-considered
+uprisal, the dawdled breakfast,
+and the ladies' train at the maturer hour
+of 10.30. Our dear friend, Mr. Anstey
+Guthrie, having firmly and most wisely
+declined the early train and any consequent
+worm, one very chilly morn, as
+the early risers were starting for the
+station, appeared at his chamber window
+awfully arrayed in white, and muttering
+with the fervour of another John
+Bradford, "There goes Anstey Guthrie&mdash;but
+for the grace of God," plunged
+back into his rapidly cooling couch,
+"and left the world to darkness and
+to us."</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_069a.jpg" id="i_069a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_069a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VI" id="CHAT_VI">Chat No. 6.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">"<i>It's idle to repine, I know;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>I'll tell you what I'll do instead,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>I'll drink my arrowroot, and go</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent3"><i>To bed.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;C. S. C.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_069b.jpg" alt="Letter M"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">My</span>
+good and kind old friend
+Robert Baxter, who now
+rests from his labours, was,
+during his long active life
+in Westminster (dispensing law to the
+rich and sharing its profits with the
+poor), one of the most charitable and
+hospitable of men.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally, however, even his goodness
+was taxed with such severity, as to
+somewhat try his patience.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The once well-known Mrs. X&mdash;&mdash;
+of A&mdash;&mdash;, a philanthropic but foolish
+old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited,
+at his house in Queen's Square,
+suffering from the first symptoms of
+rheumatic fever. Calmly establishing
+herself in the best guest-chamber, and
+surrounded by the necessary maid,
+nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind
+host's dwelling into a private hospital
+for many weeks. When at last she
+reached the stage of convalescence, and
+was allowed to take daily outings and
+airings, Mr. Baxter's capital old butler,
+Sage, had the privilege of carrying the
+fair but weighty invalid downstairs to
+the carriage, and upstairs to her rooms
+once, and often twice, a day. No
+small effort for any man's strength,
+however athletic he might be, and
+Sage, be it conceded, was a moderate
+giant.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The weeks dragged themselves away,
+and at last the welcome date for a final
+flitting to her own home arrived. Sage
+felt that he had well earned an extraordinary
+douceur for all his labours,
+and was not therefore surprised when
+the good lady on leaving slipped into
+his willing hand a suggestive looking
+folded-up blue slip of paper instead of
+the more limited gold. Retiring to
+his pantry to satisfy his very natural
+curiosity as to the amount of the vail
+so fully deserved, his feelings may be
+imagined, but not described, when he
+found that instead of the expected
+cheque, it was what, in evangelical
+circles, is called a leaflet, bearing on
+its face the following appropriate and
+cheerful text: "Thou fool! this night
+thy soul shall be required of thee!"</p>
+
+<p>Whilst upon the subject of misapplied
+texts, another instance, touched
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+with a pleasant humour, occurs to me.
+Many years ago I visited for the first
+time an old friend and his wife in their
+pleasant country house. Upon being
+shown into what was evidently one of
+the best guest-chambers, I was intensely
+delighted to find over the mantelpiece
+the following framed text, in large
+illuminated letters: "Occupy till I
+come!" Unprepared to make so long
+a stay, I left on the Monday morning
+following, and have no doubt the generous
+invitation still remains to welcome
+the coming guest.</p>
+
+<p>Another story of a like nature was
+told us by Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and is
+therefore worth repeating. He once
+saw a long procession of happy school-children
+going to some feast, headed
+by a band of music and a standard-bearer.
+The latter was staggering beneath
+an immense banner, on which
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+was painted the Lion of Saint Mark's,
+rampant, with mouth, teeth, and claws
+ready and rapacious; underneath was
+the singularly appropriate and happy
+legend, "Suffer little children to come
+unto Me."</p>
+
+<p>Another capital story from the same
+source, which time cannot wither, nor
+custom stale, is, that at some small
+English seaside resort a spirited and
+generous townsman has presented a
+number of free seats for the parade,
+each one adorned with an iron label
+stating that "Mr. Jones of this town
+presented these free seats for the public's
+use, the sea is his, and he made it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_073.jpg" id="i_073.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_073.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="BOOK_ROOM_1" id="BOOK_ROOM_1"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_077.jpg"
+      alt="Book Room: 1st view" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+    <a name="i_074a.jpg" id="i_074a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_074a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VII" id="CHAT_VII">Chat No. 7.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Where are my friends? I am alone;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>No playmate shares my beaker:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some&mdash;before the Speaker:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And some compose a tragedy,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some compose a rondo;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And some draw sword for Liberty,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And some draw pleas for John Doe.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">W. M. Praed.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">"<i>All analysis comes late.</i>"&mdash;<span class="smcap">Aurora Leigh.</span></p>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+difficulty which has
+existed since Lord Tennyson's
+dramatic death, of
+choosing a successor to
+the Laureateship, has partly arisen
+from the presence of so many minor
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+poets, and the absence, with one remarkable
+exception, of any monarch
+of song.</p>
+
+<p>The exception is, of course, Mr.
+Swinburne, who stands alone as the
+greatest living master of English verse.
+The objections to his appointment may,
+in some eyes, have importance, but time
+has sobered his more erratic flights,
+leaving a large residuum of fine work,
+both in poetry and prose, which would
+make him a worthy successor to any
+of those gone before.</p>
+
+<p>Of the smaller fry, it is difficult to
+prophesy which will hereafter come
+to the front, and what of their work
+may live.</p>
+
+<p>As Oliver Wendell Holmes so pathetically
+says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Deal gently with us, ye who read!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our largest hope is unfulfilled;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The promise still outruns the deed;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The tower, but not the spire we build.</div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+		Our whitest pearl we never find;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our ripest fruit we never reach;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">The flowering moments of the mind,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Lose half their petals in our speech."</div>
+	</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The late Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith)
+was very unequal in all he produced.
+Perhaps the following ballad
+from his volume of "Selected Poems,"
+published in 1894 by Longmans, is one
+of the best and most characteristic he
+has written:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE WOOD DEVIL.</p>
+
+<p class="center">1.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"In the wood, where I wander'd astray,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Came the Devil a-talking to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">O mother! mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">But why did ye tell me, and why did they say,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That the Devil's a horrible blackamoor? He</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Black-faced and horrible? No, mother, no!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And how should a poor girl be likely to know</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That the Devil's so gallant and gay, mother?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">So gentle and gallant and gay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">With his curly head, and his comely face,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Mother! mother!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>II.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And 'Pretty one, whither away?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And shall I come with you?' said he.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">O mother! mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And so winsome he was, not a word could I say,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till I kiss'd him again,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And O, not till he left me I knew to my pain</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">'Twas the Devil that led me astray, mother!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">The Devil so gallant and gay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">With his curly head, and his comely face,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Mother! mother!"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Edmund Gosse's work is always
+scholarly and well thought out, framed
+in easy, pleasant English. In some of
+his poems he reminds one of the
+"Autocrat of the Breakfast Table."
+His song of the "Wounded Gull" is
+very like Dr. Holmes, both in subject
+and treatment:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"The children laughed, and called it tame!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">But ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Hung by its side; the gull was lame,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">A suffering and deserted thing.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+        <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+        With painful care it downward crept;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Its eye was on the rolling sea;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Close to our very feet, it stept</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Upon the wave, and then&mdash;was free.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Right out into the east it went</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Slowly it steered, in wonderment</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To find its enemies so meek.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Calmly it steered, and mortal dread</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It could but die, and being dead,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The open sea should be its tomb.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We watched it till we saw it float</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Almost beyond our furthest view;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It flickered like a paper boat,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Then faded in the dazzling blue.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It could but touch an English heart</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To find an English bird so brave;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Our life-blood glowed to see it start</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Thus boldly on the leaguered wave."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>A few fortunate persons possess copies
+of Mr. Gosse's catalogue of his library,
+and it is, I rejoice to say, on the Foxwold
+shelves. It is a most charming
+work, reflecting on every page, by many
+subtle touches, the refined humour and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+wide knowledge of the collector. Mr.
+Austin Dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf
+as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"I doubt your painful Pedants who</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Can read a dictionary through;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">But he must be a dismal dog,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Of the little mutual admiration and
+log-rolling society, whose headquarters
+are in Vigo Street, no serious account
+need be taken. Time will deal with
+these very minor poets, and whether
+kindly or not, Time will prove. They
+may possibly be able to await the verdict
+with a serene and confident patience&mdash;and
+so can we. An exception may
+perhaps be made for some of Mr. Arthur
+Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following
+extract will show:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Come to me out of the past, and I see her there</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As I saw her once for a while.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+  	    Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And still I hear her telling us tales that night,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Out of Boccaccio's book.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Leaning across the table, over the beer,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As the midnight hour drew near.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">There with the women, haggard, painted, and old,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Tale after shameless tale.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Or ever the tale was done.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">O my child, who wronged you first, and began</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">First the dance of death that you dance so well?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Shall answer for yours in hell."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Austin Dobson and the late Mr.
+Locker-Lampson are perhaps the finest
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+writers of <i>vers de Soci�t�</i> since Praed;
+whilst in the broader school of humour
+C. S. Calverley, Mr. Dodgson (of
+"Alice in Wonderland" fame), and the
+late James Kenneth Stephen, stand alone
+and unchallenged; and Mr. Watson, if
+health serve, will go far; and so with
+some pathetic words of one of these
+moderns we will end this somewhat
+aimless chat:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">"My heart is dashed with cares and fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">My song comes fluttering and is gone;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Oh, high above this home of tears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1">Eternal joy,&mdash;sing on."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_085.jpg" id="i_085.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_085.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_086a.jpg" id="i_086a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_086a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_VIII" id="CHAT_VIII">Chat No. 8.</a></h2>
+
+<p class="blockquote center">"<i>Punch! in the presence of the passengers.</i>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_086b.jpg" alt="Letter W"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Within</span>
+the past year certain
+gentle disputes and friendly
+discussions as to the origin
+of <i>Punch</i>, and who its
+first real editor was, and whether or no
+Henry Mayhew evolved it with the
+help of suitable friends in a debtor's
+prison, remind us that Foxwold possesses
+some rather curious "memories" of this
+famous paper.</p>
+
+<p>These disputes should now be put
+to rest for ever by Mr. Spielmann's
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+exhaustive "History of Mr. Punch,"
+which, it may safely be supposed, appeared
+with some sort of authority from
+"Mr. Punch" himself.</p>
+
+<p>One of our "Odds and Ends" is a
+kit-kat portrait in oil of Horace Mayhew,
+"Ponny," excellent both as a
+likeness and a work of art, which
+should eventually find hanging space
+in the celebrated <i>Punch</i> dining-room.
+There is also a pencil drawing of him,
+in which "the Count," as he was called,
+is dressed in the smartest fashion of that
+day, and crowned with a D'Orsay hat,
+resplendent, original, and gay.</p>
+
+<p>He made a rather unhappy marriage
+late in his life, and found that habits
+from which he was not personally free
+showed themselves rather frequently in
+his wife's conduct. One day, in a state
+of emotion and whisky and water, he
+pressed Mark Lemon's hand, and, bursting
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+into tears, murmured, "My dear friend,
+she drinks! she drinks!!" "All
+right," was the editor's cheery reply,
+"my dear boy; cheer up, so do you!"</p>
+
+<p>Near by hangs a characteristic pencil
+sketch of Douglas Jerrold, who, if small,
+was no hunchback (as has been lately
+stated), but was a very neatly made,
+active little man, with a grand head
+covered with a profusion of lightish
+hair, which he had a trick of throwing
+back, like a lion's mane, and a pair of
+bright piercing blue eyes. There is an
+engraving of a bust of him prefixed to
+his life (written by his son, Blanchard
+Jerrold), which well conveys the nobility
+of the well-set head. Then comes a
+capital drawing of Kenny Meadows in
+profile, and a thoroughly characteristic
+Irish phiz it is.</p>
+
+<p>These pencil portraits are all from
+the gifted hand of Mr. George Augustus
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+Sala, and formerly belonged to Horace
+Mayhew himself. Mr. Sala, as is now
+well known by means of his autobiography,
+was once an artist and book-illustrator,
+and Foxwold is the proud
+possessor of the only picture in oil
+extant from his brush. It is called
+"Saturday Night in a Gin-Palace":
+it is full of a Hogarthian power, and
+by its execution, drawing, and colour
+shows that had Mr. Sala made painting
+his profession instead of literature, he
+would have gone far and fared well.
+The little picture is signed "G. A.
+Sala," and was found many years ago in
+an old house in Brompton, when the
+present owner secured it for a moderate
+sum, and then wrote to Mr. Sala asking
+if the picture was authentic. A reply
+was received by the next post, in the
+beautiful handwriting for which he is
+famous, and runs as follows:&mdash;-</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <div class="margin-left-25 smcap"><span class="smcap">46 Mecklenburgh Square, W.C.</span>,</div>
+  <div class="right"><i>Tuesday, Twenty-fifth June 1878</i>.</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir,</span></p>
+
+<p>I beg to acknowledge receipt of
+your courteous and (to me) singularly interesting
+note.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the little old oil-picture of the
+'Gin-Palace Bar' is mine sure enough. I
+can remember it as distinctly as though it
+had been painted yesterday. Great casks of
+liquor in the background; little stunted
+figures (including one of a dustman with a
+shovel) in the foreground. Details executed
+with laborious niggling minuteness; but the
+whole work must be now dingy and faded
+to almost total obscuration, since I remember
+that in painting it I only used turpentine for
+a medium, the spirit of which must have
+long since 'flown,' and left the pigment flat
+or 'scaly.'</p>
+
+<p>"The thing was done in Paris six-and-twenty
+years ago (Ap. 1852), and being
+brought to London, was sold to the late
+Adolphus Ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing
+firm of Ackermann &amp; Co., 96
+Strand (premises now occupied by E.
+Rimmel, the perfumer), for the sum of five
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>
+pounds. I hope that you did not give more
+than a few shillings for it, for it was a vile
+little daub. I was at the time when I produced
+it an engraver and lithographer, and
+I believe that Mr. Ackermann only purchased
+the picture with a view to encourage me to
+'take up' oil-painting. But I did not do so.
+I 'took up' literature instead, and a pretty
+market I have brought my pigs to! At all
+events, <i>you</i> possess the only picture in oil
+extant from the brush of</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Yours very faithfully,</p>
+<div class="right"><span class="smcap">George Augustus Sala</span>."</div>
+<p><i>To</i> <span class="smcap">H. N. Pym</span>, Esq.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">When Mr. Sala afterwards called to
+see the picture, he altered his mind as
+to its being "a vile little daub," and
+found the colours as fresh and bright as
+when painted. We greatly value it, if
+only as the cause of a lasting friendship
+it started with the artist.</p>
+
+<p>His own portrait by Vernet, in pen
+and ink, now graces our little gallery;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
+it is a back view, taken amidst his
+books, and a most characteristic and
+excellent likeness of this accomplished
+and versatile gentleman.<a name="fnanchor_1" id="fnanchor_1"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>One of our guest-chambers is solemnly
+dedicated to the honour and glory of
+"Mr. Punch," and on its walls hang
+some original oil sketches by John
+Leech, drawings by Charles Keene, Mr.
+Harry Furniss, Randolph Caldecote, Mr.
+Bernard Partridge, Mr. Anstey Guthrie,
+and Mr. Du Maurier; whilst kindly
+caricatures of some of the staff, and a
+print of the celebrated dinner-table,
+signed by the contributors, complete the
+decoration of a very cheery little room.</p>
+
+<h2>FOOTNOTE:</h2>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_1"
+id="footnote_1"></a><a href="#fnanchor_1">
+<span class="label">[1]</span></a>
+Whilst these pages are passing through the press, George Augustus
+Sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. An
+unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles,
+physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life
+in gloom: as Mr. Bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor
+of this volume, "It is so sad when the autumn of such a life is
+tempestuous."--<i>December 8, 1895.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_093.jpg" id="i_093.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_093.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_IX" id="CHAT_IX">Chat No. 9.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Then be contented. Thou hast got</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The most of heaven in thy young lot;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>There's sky-blue in thy cup!</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast&mdash;-</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>A sorry breaking-up.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;-<span class="smcap">Thomas Hood.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_057b.jpg" alt="Letter I"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">It</span>
+was my good fortune some short time since to
+revisit that most educational of English towns,
+Bedford, and having many years ago
+had the extreme privilege of being a
+Bedford schoolboy, I was able to draw
+a comparison between then and now.</p>
+
+<p>In the good old days these admirable
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+schools were managed in the good old
+way&mdash;plenty of classics, plenty of swishing,
+plenty of cricket and boating, and
+plenty of holidays. We sometimes
+turned out boys who afterwards made
+their mark in the big world, and the
+School Registers are proud to contain
+the names of such men as Burnell, the
+Oriental scholar, who out-knowledged
+even Sir William Jones in this respect;
+Colonel Fred. Burnaby, brave soldier
+and attractive travel writer; Inverarity,
+the lion-hunter and crack shot; Sir
+Henry Hawkins, stern judge and brilliant
+wit, and many others of like
+degree. Nor must we forgot that John
+Bunyan here learnt sufficient reading
+and writing to enable him in after years
+to pen his marvellous Book during his
+imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, which
+was then situated midway on the bridge
+over the river Ouse.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In that wonderful monument to the
+courage and enterprise of Mr. George
+Smith (kindest of friends and best of
+publishers), "The National Dictionary
+of Biography," the record is frequent
+of men who owed their education and
+perhaps best chance in the life they
+afterwards made a success, to Bedford
+School, but,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">As when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Yet still with their music is memory haunted,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">And oft in my dreams are their melodies heard."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>But if the good old School was a
+success in those bygone days, what
+must be said for it now, when, under
+the Napoleon-like administration of its
+present chief, the school-house has been
+rebuilt in its own park, upon all the
+best and latest known principles of
+comfort and sanitation, where a boy
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+can, besides going through the full
+round of usual study, follow the bent
+of his own peculiar taste, and find
+special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing
+or music, chemistry or wood-carving,
+ambulance work or drawing
+from the figure; whilst the beautiful
+river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields
+and football yards are crowded,
+and the bathing stations are a constant
+joy?</p>
+
+<p>Truly the present generation of Bedford
+boys are much blessed in their
+surroundings; and whilst they remember
+with gratitude the pious founder,
+Sir William Harper, should strive to
+do credit to his name and memory by
+the exercise of their powers in the
+battle of after-life, having received so
+thorough and broad-minded a training
+in the happy and receptive days of
+their youth.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bedford town is now one of the most
+strikingly attractive in England, with
+its fine river embankment, its grand
+old churches, its statues erected to the
+memory of the "inspired tinker," Bunyan,
+and the prison philanthropist,
+Howard, both of whom lived about a
+mile or so from the town, the former
+at Elstow, the latter at Cardington.
+It was very good and heart-restoring to
+revisit the hospitable old school with
+its pleasant surroundings and to find, as
+Robert Louis Stevenson says, that,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">Heroes and soldiers they all shall come home;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent1_5">Turning and churning that river to foam."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p>Since printing our last little "Tour
+Round the Bookshelves," in which we
+ventured to include some capital lines
+by our evergreen and many-sided
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+friend Rudolf Chambers Lehmann, he
+has again added to the interest of our
+Visitors' Book under the following circumstances.
+Guests and home-birds
+were all resting after the exhausting
+idleness of an Easter holiday when they
+were suddenly aroused from their day-dreams
+by loud cries of "Fire!" accompanied
+by the sound of horses and
+chariots approaching the house at full
+speed. On looking out, like Sister Anne
+or a pretty page, we were able to
+assuage our guests' natural alarm by
+explaining that the local fire brigade
+were practising upon our vile bodies
+and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger
+did not. On their ultimately retiring,
+satisfied with their mock efforts, and
+fortified by beer, our welcome guest
+wrote with his usual flying pen the
+following characteristic lines to commemorate
+their visit:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center">"FIRE! FIRE!!"</p>
+
+<p class="center">(AN EASTER MONDAY INCIDENT.)</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"A day of days, an April day;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Cool air without, and cloudless sun;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Within, upon the ordered tray,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Cakes, and the luscious Sally-Lunn.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Since Pym has walked, and Guthrie climbed</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">To rob some feathered songster's nest,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Pour, lady, pour, and let them rest.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">But hark! what sound disturbs their tea,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And clatters up the carriage drive?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">A dinner guest? it cannot be;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">No, no, the hour is only five.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">What sight is this the fates disclose,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">That breaks upon our startled view?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Two horses, countless yards of hose,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Nine firemen, and an engine too.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Where burns the fire? Tush, 'tis but sport;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The horses stop, the men descend,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Take hoses long, and hoses short,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And fit them deftly end to end.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Attention! lo their chieftain calls&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">They run, they answer to their names,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And hypothetic water falls</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">In streams upon imagined flames.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+	    Well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Accept, the peril past, our thanks;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Though all your toil was only fun,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And air was all that filled your tanks:</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">No, not for nought you came and dared,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Return in peace, and drink your fill;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">It was, as Mrs. Pym declared,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">'A highly interesting drill.'"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<p class="blockquote"><i>April 3, 1893.</i></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Another poet whose pen sometimes
+gilds our modest Record of Angels'
+Visits, is a well-beloved cousin, Harry
+Luxmoore by name, at Eton known so
+well. His Christmas greeting for 1890
+shall here appear, and prove to him
+how deep is Foxwold's affectionate
+obligation for wishes so delightfully
+expressed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">"Glooms overhead a frozen sky,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And somewhere sleeps the coming birth.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Folded in root and grain is lying,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">The bud, the bloom we soon may see,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And in the old year now a-dying</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Is hid the new year that shall be.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
+	    O what if snows be deep? so shrouded</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Matures the soil with promise rife</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And sap, for all the skies be clouded,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Ripens at heart a lustier life.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Then welcome winter&mdash;while we shiver</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Strength harbours deeper, and the blast</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Of sounder, manlier force the giver</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Strips off betimes our withered past.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Come weal, come woe, as best may be,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Still may the New Year's hidden dower</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Be good for you and Horace, and all the little ones, and good for me."</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_101.jpg" id="i_101.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_101.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_102.jpg" id="i_102.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_102.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_X" id="CHAT_X">Chat No. 10.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+The following graphic account
+of the rising in
+Paris in 1848 was written
+by John Poole to Charles
+Dickens, and was recently found amongst
+the papers of Mrs. John Forster, the
+widow of the well-known writer,
+Dickens' friend and biographer, and
+is, I think, worthy of print.</p>
+
+<p>John Poole was a sometime celebrated
+character, having written that
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+evergreen play "Paul Pry," as well as
+"Little Pedlington," and other humorous
+works mostly now forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>As he grew old poverty came to bear
+him company, and was only prevented
+from causing him actual suffering by
+the usual generosity of Dickens and
+other members of that charmed circle,
+further aided by a small Government
+grant, obtained for him by the same
+faithful friend from Lord John Russell.</p>
+
+<p>The letter is addressed to</p>
+
+<p>CHARLES DICKENS, Esq.,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-25 smcap">No. 1 Devonshire Terrace,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50"><span class="smcap">York Gate, Regent's Park</span></p>
+<p class="right">LONDON,</p>
+
+<p>and deals with the celebrated uprisal
+of the French mob, when a force of
+75,000 regulars and nearly 200,000
+National Guards was massed round
+Paris to resist it. The carnage was
+terrible, some 8000 persons being killed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+on both sides, and 14,000 insurgents
+made prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>It was only by General Cavaignac's
+firmness and tactful management under
+Lamartine's directions, that the mob was
+reduced and the Republican Government
+established. The general was
+afterwards nearly elected President of the
+French Republic, receiving 1,448,000
+votes, but Prince Louis Napoleon beat
+him, and, as history tells, held the reins
+in various capacities for the next twenty
+eventful years.</p>
+
+<p>Poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness,
+gives a remarkably clear impression
+of the scene as it appeared in
+his orbit. Dickens, on receiving it,
+evidently sent it the round of his
+friends, and it then remained in John
+Forster's possession until his death.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+  <p class="right topspacing2">"(<span class="smcap">
+    Paris</span>), <i>Saturday, 8 Jul 1848</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Dickens</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I wrote to you through the Embassy
+on the 22nd June, giving you an address for
+the three last Dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue
+of the ex-King's wine; and on the
+16th I sent you a word in a letter to Macready.
+Dombeys not yet arrived, and I shall
+wait no longer to acknowledge their arrival
+(as I have been doing), but at once proceed
+to give you a few lines. Since the day of
+my writing to you I have lived four years:
+Friday (the 23rd), Saturday, Sunday, Monday,
+each a year.</p>
+
+<p>"The proceedings of the three days of
+February were mere child's-play compared
+with these. Never shall I forget them, for
+they showed me scenes of blood and death.
+Friday morning the '<i>rappel</i>' was beat&mdash;always
+a disagreeable hint. Presently I heard
+discharges of musketry, then they beat the
+'<i>g�n�rale</i>.' My <i>concierge</i> ran into my
+room, and, with a long white face, told me
+the mob had erected huge barricades in the
+Faubourg-Saint-Denis, and above, down to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+the Porte St. Denis, and that tremendous
+fighting was going on there. (The Porte
+St. Denis bears marks of the fray.) 'Then,
+Madame Blanchard,' I said, 'as you seem to
+be breaking out again, I shall take a <i>sac-de-nuit</i>,
+and say adieu to you till you shall
+have returned to your good behaviour.'&mdash;'But
+monsieur could not get away for love
+or money&mdash;the insurgents have possession of
+the Chemin de Fer, and had torn up the
+rails as far as St. Denis.' This was what
+she had been told, so I went out to ascertain
+the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible to approach that quarter,
+and difficult to turn the corner of a street
+without interruption&mdash;groups of fifteen,
+twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all
+about. Towards evening matters seemed
+rather more tranquil, and between six and
+seven o'clock I contrived (though not easily)
+to make my way to Sestels, in the Rue St.
+Honor� (one of the very best of the second-rate
+restaurateurs in Paris, 'which note').
+The large saloon was filled with men in
+uniform, National Guards chiefly, and only
+two women there. I was there about an
+hour, and in that time three dead bodies
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+were carried past on covered litters. It was
+thought the disturbances were pretty well
+over, as a powerful body of troops had been
+ordered down to the scene of action.</p>
+
+<p>"At about eight o'clock I went out for
+the purpose of making a visit in the Rue
+d'Enghien, but found the whole width of
+the Boulevard Montmartre, which, as you
+know, leads to the Boulevard St. Denis,
+defended by a compact body of National
+Guards&mdash;impassable! Between nine and ten
+o'clock three regiments of cavalry, with
+cannon&mdash;a long, long procession&mdash;marched
+in the direction of the scene of insurrection.
+This was a comforting sight, and as such
+everybody seemed to consider it, and I went
+home. And this was Midsummer Eve!&mdash;Walpurgis
+Night!</p>
+
+<p>"The next day, Saturday, Midsummer Day,
+I never shall forget! Sleep had been hopeless&mdash;the
+night had been disturbed by the
+frequent beating of the '<i>g�n�rale</i>' and the
+cry '<i>Aux Armes!</i>' Every now and then I
+looked up at the sky, expecting to see it red
+from some direful conflagration. Day came,
+and soon the firing of musketry was heard,
+now from the direction of the Faubourg-Saint-Antoine,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+now from the Faubourg-Saint-Marceaux.
+Then came the heavy booming of
+cannon&mdash;death in every echo! From twelve
+till nearly one, and again after a pause, it
+was dreadful. (I cannot make 'fun' of this,
+like the facetious correspondent of the
+<i>Morning Post</i>. Who is he? Surely he
+must be an ex-reporter for the Cobourg
+Play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house
+quotations. I am utterly disgusted
+and revolted at the tasteless levity with which
+he describes scenes of blood and destruction
+and death, and so treats of matters, all of
+which require grave and sober handling.
+And then he describes, as an eye-witness,
+things which, happen though they did, I am
+certain he could not have been present to see.)</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as we were soon to be in a state
+of siege, and strictly confined to home, I can
+tell you nothing but what I saw here on this
+very spot. One event is a remembrance for
+life. In this house lived General de Bourgon,
+one of what they call the 'old Africans.'
+In the course of the morning General Korte
+(another of them) called on him, and said,
+'I dare say Cavaignac has plenty to do. I will
+go and ask him if we can be of any service
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+to him. If we can, I will send for you, so
+keep yourself in the way.' He was in Paris
+'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so he
+sent Blanchard (the <i>concierge</i>) to the <i>man�ge</i>,
+which is in the next street, to inquire whether
+they had a horse that would 'stand fire.'
+Yes; but they would not let it go out. The
+next message intimated that they must send
+it, or it would be taken by force. At about
+two o'clock, going out, I met, coming out of
+his apartments on the second floor (I, you
+know, am on the fourth), General de Bourgon,
+in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and
+his sister-in-law&mdash;the latter a very beautiful
+woman, somewhat in the style of Mrs. Norton.
+As usual, we exchanged <i>bon-jours</i> in passing.
+I went as far as the boulevard at the
+end of the street. There was a strong guard
+at the 'H�tel des Affaires �trang�res,' and
+there I was stopped. An officer of the
+National Guard asked me whether I was
+proceeding in the direction of my residence.
+Answering in the negative, he said (but
+with great courtesy), 'Then, sir, I advise
+you to return; it is in your interest I do
+so; besides' (pointing in the direction
+where was heard a heavy firing), 'd'ailleurs,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour de
+promenade.'</p>
+
+<p>"I returned, and tried by the Place Vend�me,
+but about half-way up the Rue de la
+Paix was again stopped. After loitering
+about for an hour, and unable to get anything
+in the shape of positive information,
+I returned home. Shortly after three I saw
+the General de Bourgon in full uniform, and
+on horseback. He proceeded a few paces,
+stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers
+adjusted, and then, followed by an orderly,
+went off at a brisk trot. Soon afterwards a
+guard was placed in the middle and at each
+end of this street; no one was allowed to
+loiter, or to quit it but with good reason,
+and only then was passed on by one sentinel
+to the next, so from that moment I was not
+out of the house till Monday morning.</p>
+
+<p>"At about half-past six the street&mdash;usually
+a noisy one&mdash;being perfectly still, I heard the
+measured tramp of feet approaching from
+the direction of the boulevard. I went to
+the window, and saw about fifteen or eighteen
+soldiers, some bearing, and the rest
+guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a
+wounded officer. He was bare-headed, his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+black stock had been removed, his coat
+thrown wide open, and over his left thigh
+was spread a soldier's grey greatcoat. To
+my horror the procession stopped at this
+door. It was the General brought home
+desperately wounded! I ran down and saw
+him brought up to his apartment, crying out
+with agony at every shake he received on the
+winding, slippery staircase. On the following
+Friday (the 30th), at eleven o'clock at
+noon, after severe suffering, he died. In the
+course of the day I saw him; his neck was
+uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had
+been making a sketch of him)&mdash;he looked
+like one in placid contemplation. Previously
+to the fatal result, at one of my frequent
+visits of inquiry, I saw Madame de Bourgon
+(the sister-in-law). She replied mournfully,
+but without apparent emotion, 'We are in
+hopes they will be able to perform the amputation
+to-morrow.' (They could not.)
+'But see! he has passed his life, as it were,
+on the field of battle&mdash;twelve years in Africa&mdash;and
+to fall in this way! But it was his
+duty to go out.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And, madame, how is she?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Eh, mon Dieu, monsieur! how would
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+you have her be? But a soldier's wife must
+be prepared for these things.'</p>
+
+<p>"(She, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the
+general's brother, Colonel de Bourgon.)
+His friend, General Korte, too, was wounded,
+but not dangerously.</p>
+
+<p>"In all the African campaigns only two
+generals were killed, in these street fights
+six! But the insurgents fought at tremendous
+advantage. On that said Saturday
+afternoon two incidents occurred, trifling if
+you will, but they struck me. A large
+flight of crows passed over, taking a direction
+towards the prison of St. Lazare, showing
+that fighting was murderous; and a
+rainbow (one of the most beautiful I ever
+saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof
+of the opposite houses. Beneath it seemed
+to come the noise of the fight; the sign of
+peace and the sounds of war and death. Mrs.
+Norton could make a verse or two out of
+this. This was Midsummer's Day!</p>
+
+<p>"Our Midsummer Night's dreams were
+not pleasant, believe me. No&mdash;there was
+no sleep on that night&mdash;a night of terrible
+anxiety. Paris was in a state of siege&mdash;no
+one allowed to be out of the house, nor a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
+window permitted to be opened. All night
+was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel
+under my very window&mdash;'Sentinelle
+prenez garde � vous.' I can hardly describe
+by words the peculiar tone in which this
+was uttered, but the syllable 'nelle' was
+accented, and the word 'vous' was uttered
+briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark.
+This was given <i>fortissimo</i>&mdash;repeated by the
+next <i>forte</i>&mdash;beyond him, <i>piano</i>&mdash;further on,
+<i>pianissimo</i>&mdash;till it returned, louder and
+louder, and then died away again, and so
+on, and on, and on till daybreak. Then
+was beat the '<i>rappel</i>'&mdash;then the '<i>g�n�rale</i>'&mdash;then
+again the firing.</p>
+
+<p>"This was Sunday morning, and from five
+o'clock till ten at night was not the happiest,
+but the longest day of my life. Any sort of
+occupation was out of the question. Each
+hour appeared a day. Impossible to get out,
+or to receive a visit, or to send a message,
+or to procure any reliable information as to
+what was going on, or how or when these
+doings were likely to end. All was doubt,
+uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable.
+The only information to be procured was
+from the bearers of some wounded men as
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+they passed now and then to the Ambulance
+(the temporary hospital established at the
+Church of the Assumption). But no two
+accounts were alike. I was suffering deep
+anxiety concerning a good kind French family
+of my acquaintance, living within a five
+minutes' walk of this place. 'Could I by
+any possibility procure a commissionaire to
+carry a note for me? I'll give him five
+francs (the hire being ten sous).' 'Not,
+sir,' said my <i>concierge</i>, 'if you would give
+a hundred!' The poor general wanted
+some soldiers from the barracks (next to the
+Assumption) to carry an order for him.
+After great difficulty the wife of the <i>concierge</i>
+was allowed to go and fetch one; but
+she was searched for ammunition by the first
+sentinel, and then passed on thus and back
+again from one to another. No post in&mdash;no
+letters&mdash;no newspapers. At length, at a
+month's end, night came. That night like
+the last&mdash;'Sentinelle prenez garde � vous,'
+&amp;c. &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>"On Monday morning (26th), after a
+sleepless night&mdash;for, for any means we had
+of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents
+might at any moment be expected to attack
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+this quarter, a quarter marked down by
+them for fire and pillage&mdash;at about eight
+o'clock, I lay down on a sofa and slept
+soundly till ten; I awoke, and was struck by
+the appalling silence! This is a noisy street.
+Always from about seven in the morning till
+late in the day one's head is distracted by
+the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these
+are now added the cries of the vendors of
+cheap newspapers), the passage of carriages
+and carts of all descriptions, street-singers,
+organ-grinders endless, the screeching of
+parrots and barking of dogs exposed for sale
+by a <i>grocer</i> on the opposite side of the way,
+together with the swarming of his and his
+neighbour's dirty children&mdash;all was hushed;
+not a footfall, 'not (a line that is not
+often applicable here) a drum was heard.'
+Yes, I repeat it, this universal silence was
+appalling! Not a person, save the still
+guards on duty, was to be seen. The shops
+were all closed, and, but for this circumstance,
+it seemed like a Sunday! Strange!
+(and I find it was the same with many other
+persons to whom I have mentioned the circumstance)
+I was uncertain during these
+anxious days as to the day of the week. At
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+about eleven o'clock the <i>concierge</i> came to
+tell me that the insurrection was at an end.
+In less than an hour there was heard a sharp
+fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction
+of the Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The
+insurgents had strengthened themselves at that
+point (she came to say), but that, so far as
+she could learn, General Cavaignac had at
+length resolved, by bombarding the <i>quartier</i>,
+to suppress the insurrection before the day
+should end. <i>And he did!</i></p>
+
+<p>"Frequently during the day parties of
+tired soldiers, scarcely able to walk, passed on
+their way from the scene of action to their
+barracks or their bivouac; wounded men
+were every now and then brought to the
+Ambulance close by&mdash;one a Cuirassier, who,
+as the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and
+just raised his hand in sign of recognition,
+which fell again at his side; and, most striking
+of all, bands of prisoners from among
+the insurgents!! Among them such hideous
+faces! scarcely human! No one knows
+whence they come. Like the stormy petrel,
+they only are seen in troubled times. I saw
+some such in the days of February, but never
+before, nor afterwards, till now. Imagine
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+O. Smith, well "made-up" for one of the
+bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody
+melodramas&mdash;a Parisian dandy compared
+with some of these. Some of them naked to
+the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard
+matted and of incalculable growth, bloodshot
+eyes, scowling ferocious brutes, their
+tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder&mdash;creatures
+to look at and shudder! And
+into their hands was Paris and its peaceable
+honest inhabitants threatened to fall. With
+this I end.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever, my dear Dickens,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50">Cordially and sincerely yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">John Poole</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">"I began this on Saturday, and have been
+writing it, as best as I can, till now, Tuesday,
+three o'clock. Pray acknowledge the receipt
+when or if you receive it. This is a general
+letter to you all. If Forster thinks any
+paragraph of this worthy the <i>Examiner</i>, he
+may use it. Why does not the rogue write
+to me? Has he, or can he have, taken huff
+at anything? though I cannot imagine why
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+or at what. But <i>nobody</i> writes to me. I can
+and will, some day, tell you a comic incident
+connected with all this, but it would not
+have been in keeping with the rest of this
+letter. Paris is now quiet, but very dull."</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_118.jpg" id="i_118.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_118.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_119a.jpg" id="i_119a.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_119a.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XI" id="CHAT_XI">Chat No. 11.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">"<i>All round the house is the jet black night;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>It stares through the window-pane;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And it moves with the moving flame</i>.</div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>And all round the candle the crooked shadows come</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>And go marching along up the stair.</i></div>
+	</div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>The shadow of the child that goes to bed&mdash;</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,</i></div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5"><i>With the black night overhead.</i>"</div>
+	</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_119b.jpg" alt="Letter O"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">On</span>
+the beautiful rocks of Red Head, near Arbroath,
+and surrounded by the glamour of Sir Walter
+Scott's "Antiquary," which was written
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+in the alongside village of Auchmithie,
+and the plot and incidents of which are
+principally placed here, stands Ethie
+Castle, the Scotch home of the Earls of
+Northesk, and once one of the many
+residences of Cardinal Beaton, whose
+portrait by Titian hangs in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the quaint old rooms have
+secret staircases at the bed-heads leading
+to rooms above or below, and forming
+convenient modes of escape if the
+occupants of the middle chambers were
+threatened with sudden attack. There
+are also some dungeon-like rooms
+below, with walls of vast thickness, and
+"squints" through which to fire arrows
+or musket-balls. The castle has been
+greatly improved and partly restored
+by its last owner, without removing
+or destroying any of its characteristic
+points.</p>
+
+<p>Searching, when a guest there some
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+years ago, amongst the literary and other
+curious remains, which add a great
+charm to this most interesting house,
+the writer was impressed with the
+following characteristic letter from
+Charles II. to the then Lord Northesk,
+which he was permitted to copy, and
+now to print. The letter is curious, as
+showing the evident belief that the
+King held in his Divine right to interfere
+with his subjects' affairs.</p>
+
+<p>It is a holograph, beautifully written
+in a small clear hand&mdash;-not unlike that
+of W. M. Thackeray&mdash;-and has been
+fastened with a seal, still unbroken, no
+larger than a pea, but which nevertheless
+contains the crown and complete
+royal arms, and is a most beautiful
+specimen of seal-engraving. It would
+be interesting to know if this seal still
+exists amongst the curiosities at Windsor
+Castle:&mdash;-</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Whitehall</span>, 20 <i>Nov</i>. 1672.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My Lord Northesk</span>,<br />
+
+I am so much concerned in my
+L<sup>d</sup> Balcarriess that, hearing he is in suite of
+one of your daughters, I must lett you know,
+you cannot bestow her upon a person of
+whose worth and fidelity I have a better
+esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend
+to you and your Lady, your franck
+compliance with his designe, and as I do
+realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to
+do him good as occasion offers, as well for
+his father's sake as his owne, so if you and
+your Lady condescend to his pretension, and
+use him kindly in it, I shall take it very
+kindly at your hands, and reckon it to be
+done upon the accounte of</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your affectionate frinde,</p>
+
+<p class="right smcap">Charles R."</p>
+
+<p><i>For the</i> <span class="smcap">Earle of Northesk</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Looking at the fine portrait of the
+recipient of this royal request, which
+hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting
+expression of the otherwise
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+handsome face, it is not difficult to presume
+that he somewhat resented this
+interference with his domestic plans.
+No copy of Lord Northesk's reply
+exists, but its contents may be guessed
+by the second letter from Whitehall,
+this time written by Lord Lauderdale:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Whitehall</span>, 18 <i>Jany</i>. 1673.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,<br />
+Yesterday I received yours of the
+7th instant, and, according to your desire, I
+acquainted the King with it. His Majesty
+commanded me to signify to you that he is
+satisfied. For as he did recommend that
+marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to
+both parties, so he did not intend to lay any
+constraint upon you. Therfor he leaves you
+to dispose of your daughter as you please.
+This is by His Majesty's command signified
+to your Lordship by,</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-10">My Lord,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your Lordship's most humble servant,</p>
+<p class="right smcap">Lauderdale."</p>
+<p class="smcap">Earl Northesk.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">As, however, the marriage eventually
+did take place, let us hope that the
+young couple arranged it themselves,
+without any further expression of Royal
+wishes by the evidently well-meaning,
+if somewhat imperative, King.</p>
+
+<p>Ethie has, of course, its family legends
+and ghosts&mdash;what old Scotch house is
+without them?&mdash;but the following,
+which I am most kindly permitted to
+repeat, is so curious in its modern
+confirmation, that it is well worth
+adding to the store of such weird
+narratives.</p>
+
+<p>Many years ago, it is said that a
+lady in the castle destroyed her young
+child in one of the rooms, which afterwards
+bore the stigma of the association.
+Eventually the room was closed,
+the door screwed up, and heavy wooden
+shutters were fastened outside the
+windows. But those who occupied the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+rooms above and below this gruesome
+chamber would often hear, in the
+watches of the night, the pattering of
+little feet over the floor, and the sound
+of the little wheels of a child's cart
+being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity
+connected with this sound being, that
+one wheel creaked and chirruped as it
+moved. Years rolled by, and the room
+continued to bear its sinister character
+until the late Lord Northesk succeeded
+to the property, when he very wisely
+determined to bring, if possible, the
+legend to an end, and probe the
+ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious
+base.</p>
+
+<p>Consequently he had the outside
+window shutters removed, and the
+heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then,
+with some members of his family
+present, ordered the door to be forced
+back. When the room was open and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>
+birds began to sing, it proved to be
+quite destitute of furniture or ornament.
+It had a bare hearth-stone, on which
+some grey ashes still rested, and by the
+side of the hearth was a child's little
+wooden go-cart on four solid wooden
+wheels!</p>
+
+<p>Turning to his daughter, my lord
+asked her to wheel the little carriage
+across the floor of the room. When
+she did so, it was with a strange sense
+of something uncanny that the listeners
+heard one wheel creak and chirrup as
+it ran!</p>
+
+<p>Since then the baby footsteps have
+ceased, and the room is once more
+devoted to ordinary uses, but the
+ghostly little go-cart still rests at Ethie
+for the curious to see and to handle.
+Many friends and neighbours yet
+live who testify to having heard the
+patter of the feet and the creak of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+the little wheel in former days, when
+the room was a haunted reality, but
+now the</p>
+
+<div class="center">"Little feet no more go lightly,</div>
+<div class="margin-left-50">Vision broken!"</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_127.jpg" id="i_127.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_127.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_128.jpg" id="i_128.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_128.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XII" id="CHAT_XII">Chat No. 12.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse indent10">"<i>I work on,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>Through all the bristling fence of nights and days,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse"><i>Which hedge time in from the eternities.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;Mrs. <span class="smcap">Browning</span>.</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="Letter T"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">The</span>
+late Cardinal Manning
+always felt a great interest
+in our parish of Brasted.
+In former times it formed
+part of Hever Chase, the property of
+Sir Thomas Boleyn (the father of Queen
+Anne Boleyn), who lived at Hever
+Castle, about four miles from Brasted,
+a fine Tudor specimen of domestic
+architecture, which is now somewhat
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+jealously shown to the public on certain
+days. Hever Castle is the original
+of Bovor Castle, immortalised by Mr.
+Burnand in his wonderful "Happy
+Thoughts."</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal's father, who was at
+one time an opulent city merchant,
+and sometime Governor of the Bank of
+England, owned the estate of Combe
+Bank, formerly the English location of
+the Argyll family, whose Duke sat in
+the House of Lords, until quite a recent
+date, as Baron Sundridge, the name of
+the adjacent village.</p>
+
+<p>In Sundridge Church are some family
+busts of the Argylls by Mrs. Dawson
+Damer, who stayed much at Combe
+Bank, and who lies buried with all
+her graving and sculpting tools in
+Sundridge churchyard.</p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal and his elder brother,
+Charles Manning, passed some youthful
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+years in this house, and when financial
+trouble overtook their father, and he
+was obliged to part with the property,
+it became the ever-present desire and
+day-dream of the elder son to succeed
+in life and repurchase the place. He
+succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a
+very long and happy one; but he never
+became the owner of Combe Bank, the
+hope to do so only fading with his
+life.</p>
+
+<p>He owned, or leased, a pleasant old
+house at Littlehampton; and if his
+brother, the Cardinal, was in need of
+rest, he would lend it to him, when
+the Cardinal's method of relaxation was
+to go to bed in a sea-looking room, and,
+with window open, read, write, and
+contemplate for some three or four days
+and nights, and then arise refreshed like
+a giant, and return to the manifold
+duties waiting for him in town.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Cardinal's home in London was
+formerly the Guard's Institute in the
+Vauxhall Bridge Road, which, failing in
+its first intention, was purchased as the
+palace for the then newly-elected Cardinal-Archbishop
+of Westminster. It
+proved to be rather a dreary, draughty,
+uncomfortable abode, but having the
+advantage of a double staircase and some
+large reception rooms, was useful for
+the clerical assemblies he used to invoke.</p>
+
+<p>I had the privilege, without being a
+member of his church, of being allowed
+to attend the meetings of the <i>Academia</i>
+which the Cardinal held every now and
+then during the London season. His
+friends would gather in one of the big
+rooms a little before eight in the evening,
+and sit in darkened circles around
+a small centre table, before which a
+high-backed carved chair stood. The
+entire light for the apartment proceeded
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+from two big silver candlesticks on the
+table. As the clock chimed eight, the
+Cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and
+skull-cap, would glide into the room,
+and standing before the episcopal chair,
+murmur a short Latin prayer, after
+which the discussion of the evening
+would begin; when all that wished
+had had their little say, the Cardinal
+replied to the points raised by the
+various speakers, and closed the debate;
+after which he held a sort of informal
+reception, welcoming individually every
+guest.</p>
+
+<p>No one but a Rembrandt could give
+the beautiful effect of the half-lights
+and heavy black shadows of this striking
+gathering, with its centre of colour
+and light in the tall red figure of
+the Cardinal, his noble face and picturesque
+dress forming a mind-picture
+which can never fade from the memory.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+The strong theatrical effect, combined
+with the real simplicity of the scene,
+the personal interest of many of those
+who took part in the discussion, the
+associations with the past, the speculation
+whither the innovation of the
+installation of a Roman Catholic Archbishop
+in Westminster was tending,
+giving the observer bountiful food for
+much solemn thought.</p>
+
+<p>Upon our book-shelves repose four
+volumes of the Cardinal's sermons,
+preached when a member of the Church
+of England, and Archdeacon of Chichester.
+They were bought at Bishop
+Wilberforce's sale, who was the Cardinal's
+brother-in-law, and contain the
+autograph of William Wilberforce, the
+bishop's eldest brother. Upon the same
+shelf will be found a copy of "Parochial
+Sermons" by John Henry Newman,
+Vicar of St. Mary the Virgin's,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+Oxford. This volume formerly belonged
+to Bishop Stanley, and came
+from the library of his celebrated son,
+Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, sometime Dean
+of Westminster.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="figcenter bord"><a name="BOOK_ROOM_2" id="BOOK_ROOM_2"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_134.jpg"
+      alt="Book-room (second view)" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A good book might be written by
+one who is duly qualified on "the Poets
+who are not read." It would not be
+flattering to the ghosts of many of the
+departed great, but there is so much
+assumption on the part of the general
+reader, that he knows them all, has
+read them all, and generally likes them
+all, which if examined into closely
+would prove a snare and a delusion,
+that one is tempted to administer some
+gentle interrogatories upon the subject.
+First and foremost, then, who now reads
+Byron? His works rest on the shelves,
+it is true, but are they ever opened,
+except to verify a quotation? Does the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
+general reader of this time steadily go
+through "Childe Harold," "Don Juan,"
+and his other splendid works. Not death
+but sleep prevails, from which perchance
+one day he may awake and again enjoy
+his share of fame and favour. It is the
+fashion with many persons to express
+the utmost sympathy with and acute
+knowledge of the work of Robert
+Browning, but we doubt if many of
+these could pass a Civil Service examination
+in the very poems they
+name so glibly. He is so hard to
+understand without time and close
+study, that few have the inclination to
+give either in these days of pressure,
+worry, and rush.</p>
+
+<p>Upon neglected shelves Cowper and
+Crabbe lie dusty and unopened&mdash;the
+only person who read Crabbe in these
+days was the late Edward FitzGerald;
+and it is a small class apart that still
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
+looks up to Wordsworth. The stars of
+Keats and Shelley, it is true, are just
+now in the ascendant, and may so remain
+for a little while.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult and dangerous, we are
+told, to prophesy unless we know, but
+our private opinion is that Lord Tennyson's
+fame has been declining since his
+death, and that a large portion of his
+poems and all his plays will die, leaving
+a living residuum of such splendid
+work as "Maud," "In Memoriam,"
+and some of his short poems.</p>
+
+<p>America has furnished us with Dr.
+Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose charm
+and finish is likely to continue its hold
+upon our imagination; then there is the
+Quaker poet Whittier, who will probably
+only live in a song or two; and
+Longfellow, whose popularity has a long
+time since declined. He once wrote
+a sort of novel or romance called
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+"Hyperion," which showed his reading
+public for the first time that he was
+possessed of a gentle humour, which
+does not often appear in his poems.
+For instance, one of his characters, by
+name Berkley, wishing to console a
+jilted lover, says&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'I was once as desperately in love
+as you are now; I adored, and was
+rejected.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You are in love with certain attributes,'
+said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"'Damn your attributes, madam,'
+said I; 'I know nothing of attributes.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you
+have been drinking.'</p>
+
+<p>"So we parted. She was married
+afterwards to another, who knew something
+about attributes, I suppose. I
+have seen her once since, and only
+once. She had a baby in a yellow
+gown. I hate a baby in a yellow
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+gown. How glad I am she did not
+marry me."</p>
+
+<p>The fate of most poets is to be cut
+up for Dictionaries of Quotations, for
+which amiable purpose they are often
+admirably adapted.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_142.jpg" id="i_142.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_142.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_143.jpg" id="i_143.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_143.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XIII" id="CHAT_XIII">Chat No. 13.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>She will return, I know she will,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>She will not leave me here alone.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_019b.jpg" alt="Letter S"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Staying</span>
+many years ago
+in a pleasant country-house,
+whilst walking home after
+evening church my host
+remarked, as we passed in the growing
+darkness a house from which streamed
+a light down the path from the front
+door, "Ah! Jane has not yet returned."
+The phrase sounded odd, and when we
+were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room,
+he that evening told me the
+following story, which, however, then
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+stopped midway, but to which I am
+now able to add the sequel.</p>
+
+<p>A certain John Manson (the name is,
+of course, fictitious), an elderly wealthy
+City bachelor, married late in life a
+young girl of great beauty, and with
+no friends or relations.</p>
+
+<p>She found her husband's country
+home, in which she was necessarily
+much alone, very dull, and she thought
+that he was hard and unsympathising
+when he was at home; whereas, although
+a curt, reserved manner gave this impression,
+he was really full of love for,
+and confidence in his young wife, and
+inwardly chafed at and deplored his
+want of power to show what his real
+feelings were.</p>
+
+<p>The misunderstanding between them
+grew and widened, like the poetical
+"rift within the lute," and soon after
+the birth of her child, a girl, she left
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+her home with her baby, merely leaving
+a few lines of curt farewell, and was
+henceforth lost to him. His belief in
+her honesty never wavered; and night
+after night, with his own hand, he
+lighted and placed in a certain hall-window
+a lamp which thus illuminated
+the path to the door, saying, "Jane will
+return, poor dear; and it's sure to be at
+night, and she'll like to see the light."</p>
+
+<p>Years passed by, and Jane made no
+sign, the light each evening shining
+uselessly; and still a stranger to her
+home, she died, leaving her daughter,
+now a beautiful girl of twenty, and
+marvellously like what her mother was
+when she married.</p>
+
+<p>The husband, unaware of the death
+of his wife, himself came to lay him for
+the last beneath his own roof-tree, and
+still his one cry was, "Jane will return."
+It seemed as if he could not pass in peace
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+from this world's rack until it was
+accomplished&mdash;when, lo! a miracle
+came to pass; for the daughter arrived
+one evening with a letter from her
+mother, written when she was dying,
+and asking her husband's forgiveness,
+and the light still beamed from the
+beacon window.</p>
+
+<p>The old man was only semi-conscious,
+and mistaking his child for her
+mother, with a strong voice cried out,
+"I knew you'd come back," and died
+in the moment of the joy of her supposed
+return.</p>
+
+<p>By a curious coincidence, since writing
+this true story, which was told to
+me in 1865, some of the incidents, in
+an altered form, have found a place in
+Mr. Ian Maclaren's popular book, "Beside
+the Bonnie Brier Bush." It would
+be interesting to know from whence
+he drew his inspiration, and whether his
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>
+story should perchance trace back to a
+common ancestor in mine.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p>A few years ago Mr. Walter Hamilton
+published, in six volumes, the most
+complete collection of English parodies
+ever brought together. Amongst others,
+he gave a vast number upon the well-known
+poem by Charles Wolfe of "Not
+a drum was heard." Page after page is
+covered with them, upon every possible
+subject; but the following one, written
+by an "American cousin" many years
+ago, and which was not accessible to Mr.
+Hamilton, is perhaps worth repeating
+and preserving. He called it "The
+Mosquito Hunt," and it runs as follows,
+if my memory serves me faithfully, I
+having no written note of it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse"></div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">"Not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">As around our chamber we hurried,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">In search of the insect whose trumpet and drum</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our delectable slumber had worried.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+		We sought for him darkly at dead of night,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Our coverlet carefully turning,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">By the shine of the moonbeam's misty light,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And our candle dimly burning.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">About an hour had seemed to elapse,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Ere we met with the wretch that had bit us;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">And raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">Which made the mosquito's quietus.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">Quickly and gladly we turned from the dead,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And left him all smash'd and gory;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2_6">We blew out the candle, and popped into bed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent1_5">And determined to tell you the story!"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing1">
+  <a name="i_148.jpg" id="i_148.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_148.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_149.jpg" id="i_149.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_149.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XIV" id="CHAT_XIV">Chat No. 14.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>The welcome news is in the letter found,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>The carrier's not commissioned to expound:</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>It speaks itself.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter A"/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">A pleasant</span>
+hour may
+perhaps be passed in searching
+through the family
+autograph-box in the book-room.
+Its contents are varied and far-fetched.
+A capital series of letters from
+that best and most genial of correspondents,
+James Payn, are there to puzzle,
+by their very difficult calligraphy, the
+would-be reader. Mr. Payn, a dear
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
+friend to Foxwold, is now a great invalid,
+and a brave sufferer, keeping,
+despite his pain, the same bright spirit,
+the same brilliant wit, and delighting
+with the same enchanting conversation.
+Out of all his work, there is nothing so
+beautiful as his lay-sermons, published
+in a small volume called "Some Private
+Views;" and but a little while since
+he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most
+affecting study, called "The Backwater
+of Life;" it has only up to the present
+time appeared in the <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>,
+but will doubtless be soon collected with
+other work in a more permanent form.
+It is a pathetic picture of how suffering
+may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and
+courage.</p>
+
+<p>As Mr. Leslie Stephen well says in his
+brother's life, "For such literature the
+British public has shown a considerable
+avidity ever since the days of Addison.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>
+In spite of occasional disavowals, it
+really loves a sermon, and is glad to
+hear preachers who are not bound by
+the proprieties of the religious pulpit.
+Some essayists, like Johnson, have been
+as solemn as the true clerical performer,
+and some have diverged into the humorous
+with Charles Lamb, or the cynical
+with Hazlitt."<a name="fnanchor_2" id="fnanchor_2"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>
+
+<p>In Mr. Payn's lay-sermons we have
+the humour and the pathos, the tears
+being very close to the laughter; and
+they reflect in a peculiarly strong
+manner the tender wit and delicate
+fancy of their author.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to our autograph-box.
+Here we find letters from such varied
+authors as Josef Israels, the Dutch
+painter, Hubert Herkomer, W. B. Richmond,
+Mrs. Carlyle, Wilkie Collins,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>
+Dean Stanley, and a host of other
+interesting people. Perhaps a few extracts,
+where judicious and inoffensive,
+may give an interest to this especial
+chat.</p>
+
+<p>The late Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah
+was in herself, both socially and intellectually,
+a very remarkable woman.
+Born in the Lake Country, and belonging
+to the Society of Friends, she formed,
+as a girl, many happy friendships with
+the Wordsworths, the Southeys, the
+Coleridges, and all that charmed circle
+of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings
+and doings are so full of interest, and so
+dearly cherished.</p>
+
+<p>These friendships she continued to
+preserve after her marriage, and when
+she had exchanged her lovely lake
+home for an equally beautiful and interesting
+one on the Cornish coast, first
+at Perran and afterwards at Trebah.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One of her special friendships was
+with Hartley Coleridge, who indited
+several of his sonnets to his beautiful
+young friend.</p>
+
+<p>The subjoined letter gives a pleasant
+picture of his friendly correspondence,
+and has not been included in the published
+papers by his brother, the Rev.
+Derwent Coleridge, who edited his
+remains.</p>
+
+
+<p class="blockquote">
+"<span class="smcap">Dear Sarah</span>,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent3">If a stranger to the fold</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of happy innocents, where thou art one,</div>
+      <div class="verse">May so address thee by a name he loves,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Both for a mother's and a sister's sake,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And surely loves it not the less for thine.</div>
+      <div class="verse">Dear Sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee</div>
+      <div class="verse">That I should choose the quaint disguise of verse,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And, like a mimic masquer, come before thee</div>
+      <div class="verse">To tell my simple tale of country news,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or,&mdash;sooth to tell thee,&mdash;I have nought to tell</div>
+      <div class="verse">But what a most intelligencing gossip</div>
+      <div class="verse">Would hardly mention on her morning rounds:</div>
+      <div class="verse">Things that a newspaper would not record</div>
+      <div class="verse">In the dead-blank recess of Parliament.</div>
+      <div class="verse">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>
+	    Yet so it is,&mdash;my thoughts are so confused,</div>
+      <div class="verse">My memory is so wild a wilderness,</div>
+      <div class="verse">I need the order of the measured line</div>
+      <div class="verse">To help me, whensoe'er I would attempt</div>
+      <div class="verse">To methodise the random notices</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of purblind observation. Easier far</div>
+      <div class="verse">The minuet step of slippery sliding verse,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose.</div>
+    </div>
+	<div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">Since you have left us, many a beauteous change</div>
+      <div class="verse">Hath Nature wrought on the eternal hills;</div>
+      <div class="verse">And not an hour hath past that hath not done</div>
+      <div class="verse">Its work of beauty. When December winds,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night,</div>
+      <div class="verse">'Twas sweet, for watchers such as I, to mark</div>
+      <div class="verse">How bright, how very bright, the stars would shine</div>
+      <div class="verse">Through the deep rifts of congregated clouds;</div>
+      <div class="verse">How very distant seemed the azure sky;</div>
+      <div class="verse">And when at morn the lazy, weeping fog,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun</div>
+      <div class="verse">Shed on the western hills his rosiest beams,</div>
+      <div class="verse">I thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale</div>
+      <div class="verse">Had lost one heart that could have felt its peace,</div>
+      <div class="verse">One eye that saw its beauties, and one soul</div>
+      <div class="verse">That made its peace and beauty all her own.</div>
+    </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse">One morn there was a kindly boon of heaven,</div>
+      <div class="verse">That made the leafless woods so beautiful,</div>
+      <div class="verse">It was sore pity that one spirit lives,</div>
+      <div class="verse">
+	    <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+		That owns the presence of Eternal God</div>
+      <div class="verse">In all the world of Nature and of Mind,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Who did not see it. Low the vapour hung</div>
+      <div class="verse">On the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers</div>
+      <div class="verse">The lower regions of the mountainous round;</div>
+      <div class="verse">But every summit, and the lovely line</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky</div>
+      <div class="verse">Boldly defined. The cloudless sun dispelled</div>
+      <div class="verse">The hazy masses, and a lucid veil</div>
+      <div class="verse">But softened every charm it not concealed.</div>
+      <div class="verse">Then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side&mdash;</div>
+      <div class="verse">Young oak, yet laden with sere foliage;</div>
+      <div class="verse">Larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top</div>
+      <div class="verse">And spiney garb of horizontal boughs;</div>
+      <div class="verse">The veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined,</div>
+      <div class="verse">As if some D�mon dwelt within its trunk,</div>
+      <div class="verse">And shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd</div>
+      <div class="verse">The holly and the yew, that never fade</div>
+      <div class="verse">And never smile; these, and whate'er beside,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Clothe the bleak strong girth of Silverhow</div>
+      <div class="verse">(You know the place, and every stream and brook</div>
+      <div class="verse">Is known to you) by ministry of Frost,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Were turned to shapes of Orient adamant,</div>
+      <div class="verse">As if the whitest crystals, new endow'd</div>
+      <div class="verse">With vital or with vegetative power,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Had burst from earth, to mimic every form</div>
+      <div class="verse">Of curious beauty that the earth could boast,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes,</div>
+      <div class="verse">Frozen in an instant&mdash;&mdash;"</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p>"So much for verse, which, being execrably
+bad, cannot be excused, except by
+friendship, therefore is the fitter for a
+friendly epistle. There's logic for you! In
+fact, my dear lady, I am so much delighted,
+not to say flattered, by your wish that I
+should write to you, that I can't help being
+rather silly. It will be a sad loss to me
+when your excellent mother leaves Grasmere;
+and to-morrow my friend Archer and I dine
+at Dale End, for our farewell. But so it
+must be. I am always happy to hear anything
+of your little ones, who are such very sweet
+creatures that one might almost think it a
+pity they should ever grow up to be big
+women, and know only better than they do
+now. Among all the anecdotes of childhood
+that have been recorded, I never heard of
+one so characteristic as Jenny-Kitty's wish
+to inform Lord Dunstanville of the miseries
+of the negroes. Bless its little soul! I am
+truly sorry to hear that you have been suffering
+bodily illness, though I know that it
+cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. I
+hope little Derwent did not disturb you with
+his crown; I am told he is a lovely little
+wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
+I hope he will see his way better with them.
+Derwent has never answered my letter, but I
+complain not; I dare say he has more than
+enough to do.<a name="fnanchor_3" id="fnanchor_3"></a>
+<a href="#footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Thank you kindly for your
+kindness to him and his lady. I hope the
+friendship of Friends will not obstruct his
+rising in the Church, and that he will consult
+his own interest prudently, paying court to
+the powers that be, yet never so far committing
+himself as to miss an opportunity
+of ingratiating himself with the powers that
+may be. Let him not utter, far less write,
+any sentence that will not bear a twofold
+interpretation! For the present let his
+liberality go no further than a very liberal
+explanation of the words consistency and
+gratitude may carry him; let him always be
+honest when it is his interest to be so, and
+sometimes when it may appear not to be so;
+and never be a knave under a deanery or a
+rectory of five thousand a year! My best
+remembrances to your husband, and kisses
+for Juliet and Jenny-Kitty, though she did
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+say she liked Mr. Barber far better than me.
+I can't say I agree with her in that particular,
+having a weak partiality for</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Your affectionate friend,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Hartley Coleridge</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">Another friend of the Fox family
+was the late John Bright, and the
+following letter to the now well-known
+Caroline Fox of Penjerrick will be read
+with interest:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Torquay</span>, 10 <i>mo</i>. 13, 1868.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I hope the 'one cloud' has passed
+away. I was much pleased with the earnestness
+and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask
+thee for a copy of it, but was afraid to give
+thee the trouble of writing it out for me.</p>
+
+<p>"For myself, I have endeavoured only to
+speak when I have had something to say
+which it seemed to me ought to be said, and
+I did not feel that the sentiment of the poem
+condemned me.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a pleasant visit to Kynance
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+Cove. It is a charming place, and we were
+delighted with it. We went on through
+Helston to Penzance: the day following we
+visited the Logan Rock and the Land's End,
+and in the afternoon the celebrated Mount&mdash;the
+weather all we could wish for. We were
+greatly pleased with the Mount, and I shall
+not read 'Lycidas' with less interest now
+that I have seen the place of the 'great
+vision.' We found the hotel to which you
+kindly directed us perfect in all respects.
+On Friday we came from Penzance to Truro,
+and posted to St. Columb, where we spent a
+night at Mr. Northy's&mdash;the day and night
+were very wet. Next day we posted to
+Tintagel, and back to Launceston, taking
+the train there for Torquay.</p>
+
+<p>"We were pressed for time at Tintagel,
+but were pleased with what we saw.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, we are in a land of beauty and of
+summer, the beauty beyond my expectation,
+and the climate like that of Nice. Yesterday
+we drove round to see the sights, and W.
+Pengelly and Mr. Vivian went with us to
+Kent's Cavern, Anstey's Cove, and the round
+of exquisite views. We are at Cash's Hotel,
+but visit our friend Susan Midgley in the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+day and evening. To-morrow we start for
+Street, to stay a day or two with my daughter
+Helen, and are to spend Sunday at Bath.
+We have seen much and enjoyed much in
+our excursion, but we shall remember nothing
+with more pleasure than your kindness and
+our stay at Penjerrick.</p>
+
+<p>"Elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate
+remembrance of you, and in the hope
+that thy dear father did not suffer from the
+'long hours' to which my talk subjected
+him. When we get back to our bleak
+region and home of cold and smoke, we
+shall often think of your pleasant retreat,
+and of the wonderful gardens at Penjerrick.</p>
+
+<p>Believe me,</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Always sincerely thy friend,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">John Bright</span>."</p>
+
+<p><i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Caroline Fox</span>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left:1.3em;">Penjerrick, Falmouth.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing1">There are few men whose every
+uttered word is regarded with greater
+respect and interest than Mr. Ruskin.
+It is well known that he has always
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+been a wide and careful collector of
+minerals, gems, and fine specimens of
+the art and nature world. One of his
+various agents, through whom at one
+time he made many such purchases,
+both for himself and his Oxford and
+Sheffield museums, was Mr. Bryce
+Wright, the mineralogist, and to him
+are addressed the following five
+letters:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote topspacing1">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Brantwood, Coniston, Lancashire</span>,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-60"><i>22nd May '81</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I am very greatly obliged to you
+for letting me see these opals, quite unexampled,
+as you rightly say, from that locality&mdash;but
+from that locality <i>I</i> never buy&mdash;my
+kind is the opal formed in pores and cavities,
+throughout the mass of that compact brown
+jasper&mdash;this, which is merely a superficial
+crust of jelly on the surface of a nasty brown
+sandstone, I do not myself value in the least.
+I wish you could get at some of the geology
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+of the two sorts, but I suppose everything
+is kept close by the diggers and the Jews at
+present.</p>
+
+<p>"As for the cameos, the best of the two,
+'supposed' (by whom?) to represent Isis,
+represents neither Egyptian nor Oxonian
+Isis, but only an ill-made French woman of
+the town bathing at Boulogne, and the
+other is only a 'Minerve' of the Halles,
+a <i>petroleuse</i> in a mob-cap, sulphur-fire
+colour.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't depreciate what I want to buy,
+as you know well, but it is not safe to send
+me things in the set way 'supposed' to be
+this or that! If you ever get any more nice
+little cranes, or cockatoos, looking like what
+they're supposed to be meant for, they shall
+at least be returned with compliments.</p>
+
+<p>"I send back the box by to-day's rail;
+put down all expenses to my account, as I
+am always amused and interested by a parcel
+from you.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't print this letter as an
+advertisement, unless you like!</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever faithfully yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="topspacing2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Brantwood</span>, 23<i>rd May</i>.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>The silver's safe here, and I want
+to buy it for Sheffield, but the price seems to
+me awful. It must always be attached to it
+at the museum, and I fear great displeasure
+from the public for giving you such a price.
+What is there in the specimen to make it so
+valuable? I have not anything like it, nor
+do I recollect its like (or I shouldn't want
+it), but if so rare, why does not the British
+Museum take it.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever truly yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+
+<p class="right topspacing2"><span class="smcap">Brantwood</span>, <i>Wednesday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>I am very glad of your long and
+interesting letter, and can perfectly understand
+all your difficulties, and have always
+observed your activity and attention to your
+business with much sympathy, but of late
+certainly I have been frightened at your
+prices, and, before I saw the golds, was rather
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+uneasy at having so soon to pay for them.
+But you are quite right in your estimate of
+the interest and value of the collection, and
+I hope to be able to be of considerable
+service to you yet, though I fear it cannot
+be in buying specimens at seventy guineas,
+unless there is something to be shown for
+the money, like that great native silver!</p>
+
+<p>"I have really not been able to examine
+the red ones yet&mdash;the golds alone were more
+than I could judge of till I got a quiet hour
+this morning. I might possibly offer to
+change some of the locally interesting ones
+for a proustite, but I can't afford any more
+cash just now.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever very heartily yours,</p>
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin</span>."</p>
+
+<p class="topspacing2">
+<span class="margin-left-60 smcap">Brantwood</span>,</p>
+<p class="right">3<i>rd Nov. or</i> 4<i>th (?), Friday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Wright</span>,</p>
+
+<p>My telegram will, I hope, enable
+you to act with promptness about the golds,
+which will be of extreme value to me; and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+its short saying about the proustites will, I
+hope, not be construed by you as meaning
+that I will buy them also. You don't really
+suppose that you are to be paid interest of
+money on minerals, merely because they have
+lain long in your hands.</p>
+
+<p>"If I sold my old arm-chair, which has
+got the rickets, would you expect the purchaser
+to pay me forty years' interest on the
+original price? Your proustite may perhaps
+be as good as ever it was, but it is not worth
+more to me or Sheffield because you have
+had either the enjoyment or the care of it
+longer than you expected!</p>
+
+<p>"But I am really very seriously obliged by
+the <i>sight</i> of it, with the others, and perhaps
+may make an effort to lump some of the
+new ones with the gold in an estimate of
+large purchase. I think the gold, by your
+description, must be a great credit to Sheffield
+and to me; perhaps I mayn't be able to part
+with it!</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Ever faithfully yours,</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. Ruskin."</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<p class="right topspacing2"><span class="smcap">Herne Hill, S.E.</span>, 6 <i>May</i> '84.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Bryce,</span></p>
+
+<p>I can't resist this tourmaline, and
+have carried it off with me. For you and
+Regent Street it's not monstrous in price
+neither; but I must send you back your
+(pink!) apatite. I wish I'd come to see you,
+but have been laid up all the time I've
+been here&mdash;just got to the pictures, and
+that's all.</p>
+
+<p class="margin-left-25">Yours always,</p>
+<p class="margin-left-50">(much to my damage!)</p>
+<p class="right">J. R."</p>
+</div>
+
+<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2>
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_2"
+id="footnote_2"></a><a href="#fnanchor_2">
+<span class="label">[2]</span></a>
+"Life of Sir T. FitzJames Stephen," by his Brother, Leslie Stephen.
+Smith, Elder &amp; Co., 1895.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote"> <a name="footnote_3"
+id="footnote_3"></a><a href="#fnanchor_3">
+<span class="label">[3]</span></a>
+The Rev. Derwent Coleridge was at the time keeping a school at
+Helston, which was within an easy distance of Perran, where Mrs. Fox
+was at this time living.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_167.jpg" id="i_167.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_167.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAT_XV" id="CHAT_XV">Chat No. 15.</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Or wise beyond what other women are.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="topspacing1">
+  <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i_017b.jpg" alt="Letter "/>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">An</span>
+oval picture that hangs
+opposite Sheridan's portrait
+is a fine presentment of
+the Marquis de S�gur, by
+Vanloo.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquis was born in 1724, and
+eventually became a marshal of France,
+and minister of war to Louis XVI.
+After his royal master's execution he
+fell into very low water, and it was only
+by his calm intrepidity in very trying
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>
+circumstances that he escaped the guillotine.
+His memoirs have from time
+to time appeared, generally under the
+authority of some of his descendants.
+This interesting portrait belonged to
+the family of de S�gur, and was parted
+with by the present head of the house
+to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who
+gave it to us.</p>
+
+<p>The history of this admirable woman
+is deeply interesting in every detail.
+She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay,
+a member of a good old French
+family, who was ruined by the French
+Revolution of 1785. Born at Versailles
+in the year 1812, her father had the
+child named Yolande Marie Louise;
+and she was educated at the Conservatoire
+in Paris, where they soon discovered
+her wonderful talent for dancing.
+This art was encouraged, developed, and
+trained to the uttermost; and when, in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+due time, she appeared upon the ballet
+stage, she took the town by storm, and
+at once came to the foremost rank as
+the well-known Mademoiselle Duvernay,
+rivalling, if not excelling, the two
+Ellsslers, Cerito, and Taglioni.</p>
+
+<p>She made wide the fame of the
+Cachucha dance, which was specially
+rearranged for her; and the world was
+immediately deluged with her portraits,
+some good, some bad, many very apocryphal,
+and many very indifferent.</p>
+
+<p>In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful
+"Roundabout Papers," which perhaps
+contain some of the most beautiful
+work he ever gave us, he thus recalls,
+in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone,
+his recollections of the great <i>danseuse</i>.
+"In William IV.'s time, when I think
+of Duvernay dancing in as the Bayad�re,
+I say it was a vision of loveliness such
+as mortal eyes can't see nowadays.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+How well I remember the tune to
+which she used to appear! Kaled used
+to say to the Sultan, 'My lord, a troop
+of those dancing and singing girls called
+Bayad�res approaches,' and to the clash
+of cymbals and the thumping of my
+heart, in she used to dance! There
+has never been anything like it&mdash;never."</p>
+
+<p>After a few years of brilliant successes
+she retired from the stage she had done
+so much to grace and dignify, and
+married the late Mr. Stephens Lyne
+Stephens, who in those days, and after
+his good old father's death, was considered
+one of the richest commoners
+in England.</p>
+
+<p>He died in 1860, after a far too short,
+but intensely happy, married life; and
+having no children, left his widow, as
+far as was in his power, complete
+mistress of his large fortune. They
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>
+were both devoted to art, and being
+very acute connoisseurs, had collected a
+superb quantity of the best pictures, the
+rarest old French furniture, and the
+finest china.</p>
+
+<p>The bulk of these remarkable collections
+was dispersed at Christie's in a
+nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and
+proved the great attraction of the season,
+buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna,
+and Berlin eagerly competing with
+London for the best things.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the more remarkable prices
+are here noted, as being of permanent
+interest to the art-loving world, and
+testifying how little hard times can
+affect the sale of a really fine and
+genuine collection.</p>
+
+<p>As a rule, the prices obtained were
+very far in excess of those paid for the
+various objects, in many cases reaching
+four and five times their original cost.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070
+guineas. The beautiful S�vres oviform vase,
+given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de
+Montcalm, 1900 guineas. A pair of S�vres
+blue and gold Jardini�res, 5&#188; inches high,
+1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000
+guineas. A small upright Louis XVI. secretaire,
+800 guineas. Another rather like it,
+960 guineas. A marble bust of Louis XIV.,
+567 guineas. Three S�vres oviform vases,
+from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000
+guineas. A single oviform S�vres vase, 760
+guineas. A pair of S�vres vases, 1050
+guineas. A very beautiful Sedan chair, in
+Italian work of the sixteenth century, 600
+guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas.
+A Louis XV. upright secretaire, 1320 guineas.
+"Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon,
+2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length
+portrait by Velasquez, 4300 guineas. A bust
+of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas.
+"Faith presenting the Eucharist," a splendid
+work by Murillo, 2350 guineas. "The Prince
+of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas.
+"The Village Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660
+guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work,
+1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame Vig�e
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+le Brun, 2250 guineas. A lovely portrait
+by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated
+picture of "La Gamme d'Amour,"
+3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's
+Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively
+1300 guineas and 1050 guineas.
+Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry,
+690 guineas; and a small head of a girl by
+Greuze sold for 710 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>Small pieces of china of no remarkable
+merit, but bearing a greatly enhanced
+value from belonging to this
+celebrated collection, obtained wonderful
+prices. For example:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">A Sang-de B&oelig;uf Crackle vase, 12&#189; inches
+high, 280 guineas. A pair of china Kylins,
+360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155
+guineas. A pair of S�vres dark blue oviform
+vases, 1000 guineas. Three S�vres vases,
+1520 guineas. Two small panels of old
+French tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair,
+710 guineas. A circular S�vres bowl, 13
+inches in diameter, 300 guineas.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The ormolu ornaments of the time
+of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for
+instance&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas.
+A pair of wall lights, 102 guineas. A pair
+of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another
+pair, 500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons,
+220 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>Little tables of Louis XV. period also
+sold amazingly.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">An oblong one, 21&#189; inches wide, 285
+guineas. An upright secretaire, 580 guineas.
+A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315
+guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany
+cabinets, 950 guineas. A pair of Louis
+XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas;
+and an ebony cabinet of the same time fetched
+the extraordinary price of 1700 guineas; and
+a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for
+300 guineas.</p>
+
+<p>The grand total obtained by this remarkable
+sale, together with some of the
+plate and jewels, amounted to �158,000!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For thirty-four years, as a widow,
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered, with
+the utmost wisdom and the broadest
+generosity, the large trust thus placed in
+her most capable hands. Building and
+restoring churches for both creeds (she
+being Catholic and her late husband
+Protestant); endowing needy young
+couples whom she considered had some
+claim upon her, if only as friends;
+further adding to and completing her
+art collections, and finishing and beautifying
+her different homes in Norfolk,
+Paris, and Roehampton.</p>
+
+<p>Generous to the fullest degree, she
+would warmly resent the least attempt
+to impose upon her. An amusing
+instance of this occurred many years
+ago, when one of her husband's relations,
+considering he had some extraordinary
+claim upon the widow's generosity,
+again and again pressed her for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
+large benevolences, which for a season
+he obtained. Getting tired of his importunity,
+she at last declined to render
+further help, and received in reply a
+very abusive letter from the claimant,
+which wound up by stating that if the
+desired assistance were not forthcoming
+by a certain date, the applicant would
+set up a fruit-stall in front of her then
+town-house in Piccadilly, and so shame
+her into compliance with his request.
+She immediately wrote him a pretty
+little letter in reply, saying, "That it
+was with sincere pleasure she had heard
+of her correspondent's intention of pursuing
+for the first time an honest calling
+whereby to earn his bread, and that if
+his oranges were good, she had given
+orders that they should be bought for
+her servants' hall!"</p>
+
+<p>During the Franco-German war of
+1870 she remained in Paris in her
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>
+beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-Honor�,
+and would daily sally forth to
+help the sufferings which the people in
+Paris were undergoing. No one will
+ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice
+she then made. Her men-servants
+had all left to fight for their country,
+and she was alone in the big house,
+with only two or three maids to accompany
+her. During the Commune
+she continued her daily walks abroad,
+and was always recognised by the mob
+as a good Frenchwoman, doing her
+utmost for the needs of the very poor.
+Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace,
+who was also in Paris during these
+troubles, well earned his baronetcy by
+his care of the poor English shut up in
+the city during the siege; but although
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite
+as wide and generous as his, she never
+received, nor did she expect or desire it,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
+one word of acknowledgment or thanks
+from any of the powers that were.</p>
+
+<p>She died at Lynford, from the result
+of a fall on a parquet floor, on the 2nd
+September 1894, aged 82, full of physical
+vigour and intellectual brightness,
+and still remarkable for her personal
+beauty; finding life to the last full of
+many interests, but impressed by the
+sadness of having outlived nearly all
+her early friends and contemporaries.</p>
+
+<p>She lingered nearly three weeks after
+the actual fall, during which her affectionate
+gratitude to all who watched
+and tended her, her bright recognition
+when faces she loved came near, her
+quick response to all that was said and
+done, were beautiful and touching to
+see, and very sweet to remember. Her
+last words to the writer of these lines
+when he bade her farewell were, "My
+fondest love to my beloved Julian;" our
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she
+always evinced the deepest affection and
+sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>In her funeral sermon, preached by
+Canon Scott, himself an intimate friend,
+in the beautiful church she had built
+for Cambridge, to a crowded and deeply
+sympathetic audience, he eloquently
+observed: "Greatly indeed was she
+indebted to God; richly had she been
+endowed with gifts of every kind; of
+natural character, of special intelligence,
+of winning attractiveness, which compelled
+homage from all who came
+under the charm of her influence;
+with the result of widespread renown
+and unbounded wealth.... Therefore
+it was that the blessing of God came
+in another form&mdash;by the discipline of
+suffering and trial. There was the
+trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she
+was, of her husband, of whose affection
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+we may judge by the way in which he
+had laid all he possessed at her feet;
+French and Catholic, living amongst
+those who were not of her faith or
+nation, though enjoying their devoted
+friendship. With advancing years, deprived
+by death even of those intimate
+friends, she was lonely in a sense
+throughout her life.... Nor must it
+be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge
+was not merely an easy one out
+of superfluous wealth, but that it involved
+some personal sacrifice. Friends
+of late had missed the sight of costly
+jewels, which for years had formed a
+part of her personal adornment. What
+had become of a necklace of rarest
+pearls, now no longer worn?&mdash;They
+had been sacrificed for the erection of
+this very church."</p>
+
+<p>Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the
+Roman Catholic Bishop of Northampton
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+to his flock, dated the 28th of
+November 1894, he says: "We take
+occasion of this our Advent pastoral,
+to commend to your prayers the soul
+of one who has recently passed away,
+Mrs. Lyne Stephens. Her innumerable
+works of religion and charity
+during her life, force us to acknowledge
+our indebtedness to her; she
+built at her sole cost the churches of
+Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge, and
+she gave a large donation for the church
+at Wellingborough. It was she who
+gave the presbytery and the endowment
+of Lynford, the rectory at Cambridge,
+and our own residence at Northampton.
+By a large donation she greatly helped
+the new episcopal income fund, and she
+was generous to the Holy Father on
+the occasion of his first jubilee. Our
+indebtedness was increased by her bequests,
+one to ourselves as the Bishop,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>
+one for the maintenance of the fabric
+of the Cambridge Church, another for
+the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a
+fourth to the Clergy Fund of this Diocese.
+Her name has been inscribed
+in our <i>Liber Vit�</i>, among the great
+benefactors whether living or dead,
+and for these we constantly offer up
+prayers that God may bless their good
+estate in life, and after death receive
+them to their reward."</p>
+
+<p>To the inmates of Foxwold she was
+for nearly a quarter of a century a true
+and loving friend, paying them frequent
+little visits, and entering with the deepest
+sympathy into the lives of those who
+also loved her very dearly.</p>
+
+<p>The house bears, through her generosity,
+many marks of her exquisite taste
+and broad bounty, and her memory will
+always be fragrant and beautiful to those
+who knew her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There are three portraits of her at
+Roehampton. The first, as a most winsome,
+lovely girl, drawn life-size by a
+great pastellist in the reign of Louis
+Philippe; the second, as a handsome
+matron, in the happy years of her all
+too short married life; and the last, by
+Carolus Duran, was painted in Paris in
+1888. This has been charmingly engraved,
+and represents her as a most
+lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey
+hair and large violet eyes, very
+wide apart. She was intellectually as
+well as physically one of the strongest
+women, and she never had a day's illness,
+until her fatal accident, in her life.
+Her conversation and power of repartee
+was extremely clever and brilliant. A
+shrewd observer of character, she rarely
+made a mistake in her first estimate of
+people, and her sometimes adverse judgments,
+which at first sight appeared
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+harsh, were invariably justified by the
+history of after-events.</p>
+
+<p>Her charity was illimitable, and was
+always, as far as possible, concealed.
+A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted,
+generous woman, her death has created
+a peculiar void, which will not in our
+time be again filled:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"For some we loved, the loveliest and the best,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">That from his Vintage, rolling Time hath prest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6">And one by one crept silently to rest."</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3"><a name="i_184.jpg" id="i_184.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_184.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<div class="keep-block">
+<div class="figcenter topspacing3">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+  <a name="i_185.jpg" id="i_185.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_185.jpg"
+      alt="Header" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>The Index</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Studious he sate, with all his books around,</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair.</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope</span>.</div>
+</div>
+
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">America. Humours of a voyage to, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Baxter, Robert. His hospitality, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bedford Town and Schools, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Binders and their work, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bradley, A. G. Life of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Bright, John. Letter from, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Calverley, C. S., <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Charles II. and Lord Northesk, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Christie's. A sale at, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Christie's. Lyne Stephens sale, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Coleridge, Hartley. Letter from, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Combe Bank, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Craze, modern. For work, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Cunarder. On board a, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">"Cynical Song of the City," <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">
+  <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+  Dickens. On over-work, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Dobson, Austin, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ethie Castle and its ghost story, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Caroline. John Bright's letter to, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Mrs. Charles, of Trebah, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Fox, Mrs. Charles, and Hartley Coleridge, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Foxwold and its early train, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">French Revolution of 1848, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Gainsborough's portrait of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ghost story at Ethie, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Gosse, Edmund. Poem by, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Grain, R. Corney. Sketch of, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  His charity, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+  Letter from, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Guthrie, Anstey. Bon-mot of, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Hamilton's parodies, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Holmes, Oliver Wendell, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Humours of an Atlantic voyage, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">"Jane will return." A true story, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Jerrold, Douglas. Drawing of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Laureateship, The, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lehmann, R. C. Poem by, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Letter from John Bright, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hartley Coleridge, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Charles II., <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;R. Corney Grain, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lord Lauderdale, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;John Poole, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;John Ruskin, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;G. A. Sala, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Longfellow. Extract from, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lyne Stephens, Mrs., <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sketch of her life, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her art collections, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thackeray's sketch of her, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her death, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her funeral sermon, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+  &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Great sale at Christie's, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Lytton, Robert, Lord. Poem by, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Manning, Cardinal, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Manning, Charles John, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Mayhew, Horace, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Meadows, Kenny. Drawing of, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Newgate. Visit to, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Northesk, Lord, and Charles II., <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Parody. An unknown one, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Payn, Mr. James. His lay-sermons, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Poets who are not read, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Poole, John. Letter from, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Portland, Duke of, and his books, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Portraits of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li"><i>Punch.</i> Memorials of, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+    Portraits of writers to, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Reynolds, Sir Joshua. Portrait by, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Ruskin, John. Letters from, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+  Sala, G. A. Letter from, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"
+    &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Picture by, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Sales at Christie's, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Schools, Bedford, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">S�gur, Marquis de. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Sheridan, R. B. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Stevenson, R. L., <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Stories. American, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Scott, Canon. Sermon by, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Symon, Arthur. Poem by, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Texts, inappropriate, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Thackeray's description of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Westerham. Birthplace of Wolfe, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Wolfe, General. Portrait of, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Woods, Mr. Thomas H., <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li>
+  <li class="ndx-li">Work, modern. Craze for, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+<ul class="ndx-ul">
+  <li class="ndx-li">Z---- sale of pictures, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class="chap" />
+
+<p  class="center"><span class="smcap">The Reader</span> (<i>loquiter</i>).</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="verse">"<i>Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door;</i></div>
+    <div class="verse indent2_6"><i>Sir, let me see your works and you no more!</i>"</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="right">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter topspacing2">
+  <a name="i_188.jpg" id="i_188.jpg"></a>
+    <img src="images/i_188.jpg"
+      alt="Footer" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="transnote margin-top3">
+<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+<ul>
+  <li>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</li>
+  <li>Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
+    form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</li>
+  <li>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</li>
+  <li>Pictures of the Book Room have been moved. The List of Illustrations
+    paginations were not corrected.</li>
+  <li>Other corrections:
+    <ul>
+      <li>Page 89: 'Hotel des Affaires �trangers,' changed to 'H�tel des
+       Affaires �trang�res,'</li>
+      <li>Page 125: Caligraphy changed to calligraphy.</li>
+	</ul>
+  </li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,3483 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
+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: Chats in the Book-Room
+
+Author: Horace N. Pym
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44810]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHATS IN THE BOOK-ROOM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Chats in the Book-room
+
+
+
+
+  Of this Book only One Hundred and Fifty
+  Copies were privately printed for the
+  Author, on Arnold's Unbleached Handmade
+  Paper, in the month of January
+  1896---of which this is
+
+  _No. 25_
+
+[Illustration: H.N. Pym]
+
+[Illustration: _Walker and Boutall ph. fc._]
+
+
+
+
+  Chats in the
+  Book-room
+
+  By
+
+  Horace N. Pym
+
+  Editor of Caroline Fox's Journals; A Mother's Memoir;
+  A Tour Round my Book-shelves, etc. etc.
+
+  _With Portrait by MOLLY EVANS, and Two
+  Photogravures of the Book-room_
+
+  "If any one, whom you do not know, relates strange stories,
+  be not too ready to believe or report them, and yet (unless he is
+  one of your familiar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict
+  him."--Sir Matthew Hale.
+
+  Privately Printed for the Author in the Year
+  1896 by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
+
+
+
+
+  _To_
+
+  _My Dearly Loved Son_
+
+  _Julian Tindale Pym_
+
+
+  _I dedicate these "Chats in the Book-room," to which I ask him to
+  extend that noble "Patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill," which
+  gilds and elevates his life._
+
+            H. N. P.
+
+      Christmas,
+  Foxwold Chase, 1895.
+
+
+
+
+Table of Contents
+
+    "_Youth longs and manhood strives, but age remembers,
+      Sits by the raked-up ashes of the past,
+    Spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers,
+      That warm its creeping life-blood till the last._"
+          O. W. Holmes.
+
+
+                                                              PAGE
+
+  Introduction 1
+
+
+  CHAT I.
+
+  On Richard Corney Grain--His home qualities--His love for
+  children--His benevolence--His power of pathos--His letter
+  on a holiday                                                   3
+
+
+  CHAT II.
+
+  On a portrait of General Wolfe--On the use of portraits in
+  country-houses--On a sale at Christie's--A curious story
+  about a curious sale                                           8
+
+
+  CHAT III.
+
+  On holiday trips--Across the Atlantic--Some humours of
+  the voyage--Some stories told in the gun-room                 18
+
+
+  CHAT IV.
+
+  On a private visit to Newgate prison--In Execution
+  yard--Some anecdotes of the condemned                         34
+
+
+  CHAT V.
+
+  On Book-binding--Some worthy members of the craft--On
+  over-work and the modern race for wealth--Charles Dickens
+  on work--A Song of the City--Anecdote of Mr. Anstey Guthrie   41
+
+
+  CHAT VI.
+
+  On an uninvited guest--Her illness--Her convalescence--Her
+  recovery--Her gratitude--On texts in bedrooms--A
+  welcoming banner                                              53
+
+
+  CHAT VII.
+
+  On some minor poets--On _vers de Societe_--On
+  Praed, C. S. Calverley, Locker-Lampson, and Mr. A. Dobson     58
+
+
+  CHAT VIII.
+
+  On Mr. Punch and his founders--Concerning portraits of
+  Jerrold, Kenny Meadows, and Horace Mayhew--On Mr. Sala as a
+  painter--A letter from G. A. Sala                             66
+
+
+  CHAT IX.
+
+  On our schooldays--On Bedford, past and present--On R. C.
+  Lehmann--A poem by him--A Christmas greeting by
+  H. E. Luxmoore                                                73
+
+
+  CHAT X.
+
+  On John Poole, the author of "Paul Pry"--His friendship with
+  Dickens--His letter to Dickens detailing the French
+  Revolution of 1848                                            82
+
+
+  CHAT XI.
+
+  On Ethie Castle--Its artistic treasures--A letter from
+  Charles II.--A true family ghost story                        99
+
+
+  CHAT XII.
+
+  On Cardinal Manning--Dramatic effect at his _Academia_--On
+  Poets who are never read, or "hardly ever"                   108
+
+
+  CHAT XIII.
+
+  On a true story, called "Jane will return"--On Hamilton's
+  "Parodies"--An unknown one, by the Rev. James Bolton         119
+
+
+  CHAT XIV.
+
+  On autographs--Mr. James Payn and his lay-sermons--Mrs.
+  Charles Fox of Trebah--Her friendship with Hartley
+  Coleridge--A letter from him--A letter from John Bright
+  to Caroline Fox--Mr. Ruskin as a mineral
+  collector--Five unpublished letters from him                 125
+
+
+  CHAT XV.
+
+  On Mrs. Lyne Stephens--The story of her early
+  life--Thackeray's sketch of her--Her art
+  collections--A wonderful sale at Christie's--Her charities
+  and friendships--Her death--Her funeral
+  sermon--Her portraits                                        143
+
+    "_I come not here your morning hour to sadden,
+      A limping pilgrim, leaning on his staff,--
+    I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden
+      This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh._"
+              --The Iron Gate.
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+
+  Portrait                                _To face the Title Page_
+
+           The Book-room (First View)                    _Page_ 58
+
+           The Book-room (Second View)                      "  113
+
+
+
+
+Introduction.
+
+    "_Some of your griefs you have cured,
+    And the sharpest you still have survived;
+    But what torments of pain you endured,
+    From evils that never arrived!_"
+
+
+A few years ago a little inconsequent volume was launched on partial
+acquaintance, telling of some ordinary books which line our friendly
+shelves, of some kindly friends who had read and chatted about them,
+some old stories they had told, and some happy memories they had
+awakened.
+
+When those acquaintances had read the little book, they asked, like
+Oliver, for more. A rash request, because, unlike Oliver, they get it
+in the shape of another "Olla Podrida" of book-chat, picture-gossip,
+and perchance a stray "chestnut." Their good-nature must be invoked to
+receive it, like C. S. Calverley's sojourners--
+
+    "Who when they travel, if they find
+      That they have left their pocket-compass,
+    Or Murray, or thick boots behind,
+      They raise no rumpus."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 1.
+
+    "_Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,
+    With too serene a conscience drew
+    Your easy breath, and slumbered through
+              The gravest issue;
+    But we, to whom our age allows
+    Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,
+    Look down upon your narrow house,
+              Old friend, and miss you._"
+              --Austin Dobson.
+
+
+Since we made our last "Tour Round the Book-shelves," death has
+removed one of the kindest friends, and most genial companions, of
+the Book-room. In Richard Corney Grain, Foxwold has lost one of its
+pleasantest and most welcome guests, and it is doubtful, well as the
+public cared for and appreciated his genius, if it knew or suspected
+how generous a heart, and how wide a charity, moved beneath that
+massive frame. When rare half-holidays came, it was no uncommon thing
+for Dick Grain to dedicate them to the solace and amusement of some
+hospital or children's home, where, with a small cottage piano, he
+would, moving from ward to ward, give the suffering patients an hour's
+freedom from their pain, and some happy laughs amid their misery.
+
+One day, after a series of short performances in the different parts of
+one of our large London hospitals, he was about to sing in the accident
+ward, when the secretary to the hospital gravely asked him "Not to be
+too funny in this room, for fear he'd make the patients burst their
+bandages!"
+
+Dick Grain was never so happy, so natural, or so amusing as when, of
+his own motion, he was singing to a nursery full of children in a
+country house.
+
+Those who knew him well were aware that, delightful as were all his
+humorous impersonations, he had a graver and more impressive side to
+his lovable and admirable character, and that he would sometimes, when
+sure he would be understood, sing a pathetic song, which made the tears
+flow as rapidly as in others the smiles had been evoked.
+
+Who that heard it will forget his little French song, supposed to be
+sung by one of the first Napoleon's old Guard for bread in the streets.
+He sang in a terrible, hoarse, cracked voice a song of victory,
+breaking off in the middle of a line full of the sound of battle to
+cough a hacking cough, and beg a sous for the love of God!
+
+Subjoined is one of his friendly little notes, full of the quiet happy
+humour that made him so welcome a guest in every friend's house.
+
+            Hothfield Place,
+                Ashford, Kent.
+
+     "My dear Pym,
+
+     I shall be proud to welcome you and Mrs. Pym on Wednesday the
+     26th, but why St. George's Hall? Why not go at once to a play and
+     not to an entertainment? Plays at night. Entertainments in the
+     afternoon. Besides, we are so empty in the evenings now, the new
+     piece being four weeks overdue. Anyhow, I hope to see you at 8
+     Weymouth Street on Nov. 26th, at any hour after my work, say 10.15
+     or 10.30, and so on, every quarter of an hour.
+
+     "I am dwelling in the Halls of the Great, waited on by powdered
+     menials, who rather look down on me, I think, and hide my clothes,
+     and lay things out I don't wish to put on, and button my collar
+     on to my shirt, and my braces on to my----, and when I try to
+     throw the braces over my shoulders I hit my head with the buckle,
+     and get my collar turned upside down, and tear out the buttons in
+     my endeavours to get it right; and they fill my bath so full, that
+     the displacement caused by my unwieldy body sends quarts of water
+     through the ceiling on to the drawing-room--the Red Drawing-room.
+     Piano covered with the choicest products of Eastern towns. Luckily
+     the party is small, so we only occupy the Dragon's Blood Room, so
+     perhaps they won't notice it. But a truce to fooling till Nov.
+     26.--Yours sincerely,
+
+              R. Corney Grain."
+
+     _Nov. 16, 1890._
+
+He was one of the most gifted, warmest-hearted friends; his cynicism
+was all upon the surface, and was never unkind, the big heart beat true
+beneath. His premature death has eclipsed the honest gaiety of this
+nation--"he should have died hereafter."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 2.
+
+    "_Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
+      To all the sensual world proclaim,
+    One crowded hour of glorious life,
+      Is worth an age without a name._"
+              --Old Mortality.
+
+
+A picture hangs at Foxwold of supreme interest and beauty, being a
+portrait of General Wolfe by Gainsborough. Its history is shortly
+this--painted in Bath in 1758, probably for Miss Lowther, to whom he
+was then engaged, and whose miniature he was wearing when death claimed
+him; it afterwards became the property of Mr. Gibbons, a picture
+collector, who lived in the Regent's Park in London, descending in due
+course to his son, whose widow eventually sold it to Thomas Woolner,
+the R.A. and sculptor; it was bought for Foxwold from Mrs. Woolner in
+1895.
+
+The great master has most wonderfully rendered the hero's long, gaunt,
+sallow face lit up by fine sad eyes full of coming sorrow and present
+ill-health. His cocked hat and red coat slashed with silver braid are
+brilliantly painted, whilst his red hair is discreetly subdued by a
+touch of powder.
+
+One especial interest that attends this picture in its present home is,
+that within two miles of Foxwold he was born, and passed some youthful
+years in the picturesque little town of Westerham, his birthplace,
+and that his short and wonderful career will always be especially
+connected with Squerryes Court, then the property of his friend George
+Warde, and still in the possession of that family.
+
+Until recently no adequate or satisfactory life of Wolfe existed,
+but Mr. A. G. Bradley has now filled the gap with his beautiful and
+affecting monograph for the Macmillan Series of English Men of Action:
+a little book which should be read by every English boy who desires to
+know by what means this happy land is what it is.
+
+In country houses the best decoration is portraits, portraits, and
+always portraits. In the town by all means show fine landscape and
+sea-scape--heathery hills and blue seas--fisher folks and plough
+boys--but when from your windows the happy autumn fields and glowing
+woods are seen, let the eye returning to the homely walls be cheered
+with the answer of face to face, human interests and human features
+leading the memory into historic channels and memory's brightest
+corners. How pleasant it is in the room where, in the spirit, we now
+meet, to chat beneath the brilliant eyes of R. B. Sheridan, limned by
+Sir Joshua, or to note with a smile the dignified importance of Fuseli,
+painted by Harlow, or to turn to the last portrait of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds, painted by himself, and of which picture Mr. Ruskin once
+remarked, "How deaf he has drawn himself."
+
+Of the fashion in particular painters' works, Christie's rooms give
+a most instructive object-lesson. It is within the writer's memory
+when Romneys could be bought for L20 apiece, and now that they are
+fetching thousands, the wise will turn to some other master at present
+neglected, and gather for his store pictures quite as full of beauty
+and truth, and whose price will not cause his heirs to blaspheme.
+
+A constant watchful attendance at Christie's is in itself a liberal
+education, and it seldom happens that those who know cannot during its
+pleasant season find "that grain of gold" which is often hidden away
+in a mass of mediocrity. And then those clever, courteous members of
+the great house are always ready to give the modest inquirer the full
+benefit of their vast knowledge, and, if necessary, will turn to their
+priceless records, and guide the timid, if appreciative, visitor into
+the right path of selection.
+
+What a delightful thing it is to be present at a field-day in King
+Street. The early lunch at the club--the settling into a backed-chair
+at the exactly proper angle to the rostrum and the picture-stand. (The
+rostrum, by the way, was made by Chippendale for the founder of the
+house.) At one o'clock the great Mr. Woods winds his way through the
+expectant throng, and is promptly shut into his pulpit, the steps of
+which are as promptly tucked in and the business and pleasure of the
+afternoon begins. Mr. Woods, dominating his audience
+
+    "As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
+    Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,"
+
+gives a quick glance round the big room, now filled with well-known
+faces, whose nod to the auctioneer is often priceless. Sir William
+Agnew rubs shoulders with Lord Rosebery, and Sir T. C. Robinson
+whispers his doubts of a picture to a Trustee of the National
+Collection; old Mr. Vokins extols, if you care to listen, the old
+English water-colourists, to many of whom he was a good friend, and Mr.
+George Redford makes some notes of the best pictures for the Press; but
+Mr. Woods' quiet incisive voice demands silence as Lot 1 is offered
+with little prefix, and soon finds a buyer at a moderate price.
+
+The catalogues, which read so pleasantly and convey so much within a
+little space, are models of clever composition, beginning with items of
+lesser interest and carefully leading up to the great attractions of
+the afternoon, which fall to the bid of thousands of guineas from some
+great picture-buyer, amidst the applause of the general crowd.
+
+A pure Romney, a winsome Gainsborough, a golden Turner, or a Corot
+full of mystery and beauty, will often evoke a round of hand-clapping
+when it appears upon the selling-easel, and a swift and sharp contest
+between two or three well-known connoisseurs will excite the audience
+like a horse-race, a fencing bout, or a stage drama.
+
+The history of Christie's is yet to be written, notwithstanding Mr.
+Redford's admirable work on "Art Sales," and when it is written it
+should be one of the most fascinating histories of the nineteenth
+century; but where is the Horace Walpole to indite such a work? and who
+possesses the necessary materials?
+
+One curious little history I can tell concerning a sale in recent years
+of the Z---- collection of pictures and _objets d'art_, which will, to
+those who know it not, prove "a strange story."
+
+A former owner, distinguished by his social qualities and position, in
+a fit of passion unfortunately killed his footman. The wretched victim
+had no friends, and was therefore not missed, and the only person,
+besides his slayer, aware of his death, and how it was caused, was
+the butler. The crime was therefore successfully concealed, and no
+inquiries made. But after a little time the butler began to use his
+knowledge for his own personal purposes.
+
+Putting the pressure of the blackmailer upon his unhappy master, he
+began to make him sing, by receiving as the price of his silence, first
+a fine picture or two, then some rare china, followed by art furniture,
+busts, more pictures, and more china, until he had well-nigh stripped
+the house.
+
+Still, like the daughter of the horse-leech, crying, "Give, give!" he
+made his nominal master assign to him the entire estates, reserving
+only to himself a life interest, which, in his miserable state of
+bondage, did not last long.
+
+The chief butler on his master's death took his name and possessions,
+ousting the rightful heirs; and after enjoying a wicked, but not
+uncommon, prosperity with his stolen goods for some years, he also died
+in the odour of sanctity, and went to his own place.
+
+His successors, hearing uneasy rumours, determined to be rid of their
+tainted inheritance; so placed all the pictures and pretty things in
+the sale-market, and otherwise disposed of their ill-gotten property.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 3.
+
+    "_Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
+      Wary of the weather, and steering by a star?
+    Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
+      To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+The best holiday for an over-worked man, who has little time to spare,
+and who has not given "hostages to fortune," is to sail across the
+herring-pond on a Cunarder or White Star hotel, and so get free from
+newspapers, letters, visitors, dinner-parties, and all the daily
+irritations of modern life.
+
+Those grand Atlantic rollers fill the veins with new life, the tired
+brain with fresh ideas; and the happy, idle days slip away all too
+soon, after which a short stay in New York or Boston City, and then
+back again.
+
+The study of character on board is always pleasant and instructive, and
+sometimes a happy friendship is begun which lasts beyond the voyage.
+
+Then, again, the cliques into which the passengers so naturally fall,
+is funny to watch. The reading set, who early and late occupy the
+best placed chairs, and wade through a vast mass of miscellaneous
+literature, and are only roused therefrom by the ringing summons to
+meals; then there is the betting and gambling set, who fill card and
+smoking room as long as the rules permit, coming to the surface now
+and then for breath, and to see what the day's run has been, or to
+organise fresh sweepstakes; then there is often an evangelical set,
+who gather in a ring upon the deck, if permitted, and sing hymns, and
+address in fervid tones the sinners around them; then there are the
+gossips (most pleasant folk these), the flirts, the deck pedestrians,
+those who dress three times a day, and those who dress hardly at all:
+and so the drama of a little world is played before a very appreciative
+little audience.
+
+I remember on such a journey being greatly interested in the study of a
+delightful rugged old Scotch engineer, whose friendship I obtained by a
+genuine admiration for his devotion to his engines, and his belief in
+their personality. It was his habit in the evening, after a long day's
+run, to sit alongside these throbbing monsters and play his violin to
+them, upon which he was a very fair performer, saying, "They deserved
+cheering up a bit after such a hard day's work!" This was a real and
+serious sentiment on his part, and inspired respect and an amused
+admiration on ours.
+
+The humours of one particular voyage which I have in my memory, were
+delightfully intensified by the presence on board of a very charming
+American child, called Flossie L----, about fourteen years old, who by
+her capital repartees, acute observation, and pretty face, kept her
+particular set of friends very much alive, and made all who knew her,
+her devoted slaves and admirers.
+
+Her remark upon a preternaturally grave person, who marched the deck
+each day before our chairs, "that she guessed he had a lot of laughter
+coiled up in him somewhere," proved, before the voyage was over, to be
+quite true.
+
+It was this gentleman who, one morning, solemnly confided to a friend
+that he was a little suspicious of the drains on board!
+
+Americanisms, which are now every one's property, were at this time--I
+am speaking of twenty years ago--not so common, and glided from
+Flossie's pretty lips most enchantingly. To be told on a wet morning,
+with half a gale of wind blowing, "to put on a skin-coat and gum-boots"
+to meet the elements, was at that day startling, if useful, advice. She
+professed a serious attachment for a New York cousin, aged sixteen,
+"Because," she said, "he is so dissolute, plays cards, smokes cigars,
+reads novels, and runs away when offered candy." Her quieter moments on
+deck were passed in reading 'Dombey and Son,' which, when finished,
+she pronounced to be all wrong, "only one really nice man in the
+book--Carker--and he ought to have married Floey."
+
+Mr. Hugh Childers, then First Lord of the Admiralty, was a passenger
+on board our boat, and having with infinite kindness and patience
+explained to the child our daily progress with a big chart spread on
+the deck and coloured pins, was somewhat startled to see her execute
+a _pas seul_ over his precious map and disappear down the nearest
+gangway, with the remark, "My sakes, Mr. Childers, how terribly
+frivolous you are!"
+
+She had a youthful brother on board, who, one day at dinner, astonished
+his table by coolly saying, as he pointed to a most inoffensive old
+lady dining opposite to him, "Steward, take away that woman, she makes
+me sick!"
+
+A stout and amiable friend of Flossie's, who shall be nameless in
+these blameless records, on coming in sight of land assumed, and I
+fear did it very badly, some emotion at the first sight of her great
+country, only to be crushed by her immediate order, given in the sight
+and hearing of some hundred delighted passengers, "Sailor, give this
+trembling elephant an arm, I guess he's going to be sick!" Luckily for
+him the voyage was practically over, but for its small remnant he was
+known to every one on board as the trembling elephant.
+
+One day a pleasant little American neighbour at dinner touched one's
+sense of humour by naively saying, "If you don't remove that nasty
+little boiled hen in front of you, I know I must be ill."
+
+Then there was a dull and solemn prig on board, who at every meal
+gave us, unasked, and _apropos des bottes_, some tremendous facts and
+statistics to digest, such as the number of shrimps eaten each year
+in London, or how many miles of iron tubing go to make the Saltash
+bridge. Finding one morning on his deck-chair, just vacated, a copy
+of Whitaker's Almanack and a volume of Mayhew's "London Labour and
+the London Poor," we recognised the source of his elucidations, and
+promptly consigned his precious books to a watery grave. Of that
+voyage, so far as he was concerned, the rest was silence.
+
+Upon remarking to an American on board that the gentleman in question
+was rather slow, he brought down a Nasmyth hammer with which to crack
+his nut by saying, "Slow, sir; yes, he's a big bit slower than the hour
+hand of eternity!"
+
+I remember on another pleasant voyage to Boston meeting and forming
+lasting friendship with the late Judge Abbott of that city, whose
+stories and conversation were alike delightful. He spoke of a rival
+barrister, who once before the law courts, on opening his speech for
+the defence of some notorious prisoner, said, "Gentlemen, I shall
+divide my address to you into three parts, and in the first I shall
+confine myself to the _Facts_ of this case; secondly, I shall endeavour
+to explain the _Law_ of this case; and finally, I shall make an
+all-fired rush at your passions!"
+
+It was Judge Abbott who told me that when at the Bar he defended, and
+successfully, a young man charged with forging and uttering bank-notes
+for large values. After going fully into the case, he was entirely
+convinced of his client's innocence, an impression with which he
+succeeded in imbuing the court. After his acquittal, his client, to
+mark his extreme sense of gratitude to his counsel's ability, insisted
+upon paying him double fees. The judge's pleasure at this compliment
+became modified, when it soon after proved that the said fees were
+remitted in notes undoubtedly forged, and for the making of which he
+had just been tried and found "not guilty!"
+
+Speaking one day of the general ignorance of the people one met, he
+very aptly quoted one of Beecher Ward's witty aphorisms, "That it
+is wonderful how much knowledge some people manage to steer clear
+of." Another quotation of his from the same ample source, I remember
+especially pleased me. Speaking of the morbid manner in which many
+dwelt persistently on the more sorrowful incidents and accidents of
+their lives, he said, "Don't nurse your sorrows on your knee, but spank
+them and put them to bed!"
+
+On one visit to the States I took a letter of special commendation to
+the worthy landlord of the Parker House Hotel in Boston. On arriving
+I delivered my missive at the bar, was told the good gentleman was
+out, was duly allotted excellent rooms, and later on sat down with
+an English travelling companion to an equally excellent dinner in
+the ladies' saloon. In the middle of our repast we saw a small
+Jewish-looking man wending his way between the many tables in, what
+is literally, the marble hall, towards us. Standing beside our table,
+and regarding us with the benignant expression of an archbishop,
+he carefully, though unasked, filled and emptied a bumper of our
+well-iced Pommery Greno, saying, "Now, gentlemen, don't rise, but my
+name's Parker!"
+
+Upon a first visit to America few things are more striking than the
+originality and vigour of some of the advertisements. One advocating
+the use of some hair-wash or cream pleased us greatly by the simple
+reason it gave for its purchase, "that it was both elegant and chaste."
+Another huge placard represented our Queen Victoria arrayed in crown,
+robes, and sceptre, drinking old Jacob Townsend's Sarsaparilla out of
+a pewter pint-pot. I also saw a most elaborate allegorical design with
+life-size figures, purporting to induce you to buy and try somebody's
+tobacco. I remember that a tall Yankee, supposed to represent Passion,
+was smoking the said tobacco in a very fiery and aggressive manner,
+that with one hand he was binding Youth and Folly together with chains,
+presumably for refusing him a light, whilst with the other he chucked
+Vice under the chin, she having apparently been more amenable and
+polite.
+
+To note how customs change, I one day in New York entered a car in the
+Broadway, taking the last vacant seat. A few minutes, and we stopped
+again to admit a stout negress laden with her market purchases. The car
+was hot, and I was glad to yield her my seat, and stand on the cooler
+outside platform. She took it with a wide grin, saying with a dramatic
+wave of her dusky paw, "You, sir, am a gentleman, de rest am 'ogs!" a
+speech which would not so many years ago have probably cost her her
+life at the next lamppost.
+
+A Washington doctor once told me the following little story, which
+seems to hold a peculiar humour of its own. A country lad and lassie,
+promised lovers, are in New York for a day's holiday. He takes her into
+one of those sugar-candy, preserved fruit, ice, and pastry shops which
+abound, and asks her tenderly what she'll have? She thinks she'll try
+a brandied peach. The waiter places a large glass cylinder holding
+perhaps a couple of dozen of them on their table, so that they may help
+themselves. These peaches, be it known, are preserved in a spirituous
+syrup, with the whole kernels interspersed, and are very expensive.
+To the horror of the young man, the girl just steadily worked her way
+through the whole bottleful. Having accomplished this feat without
+turning a hair, she pauses, when the lover, in a delicate would-be
+sarcastic note, asks with effusion, if she won't try another peach? To
+which the girl coyly answers, "No thank you, I don't like them, the
+seeds scratch my throat!"
+
+As is well known, most of the waiters and servants in American hotels
+are Irish. Dining with a dear old Canadian friend at the Windsor Hotel
+in New York, we were particularly amused by the quaint look and speech
+of the Irish gentleman who condescended to bring us our dinner. He had
+a face like an unpeeled kidney potato, with twinkling merry little
+blue eyes. Not feeling well, I had prescribed for myself a water diet
+during the meal, and hoped my guest would atone for my shortcomings
+with the wine. After he had twice helped himself to champagne, the
+while I modestly sipped my seltzer, my waiter's indignation at what
+he supposed was nothing less than base treachery, found vent in the
+following stage-aside to me: "Hev an oi, sorr, on your frind, he's
+a-gaining on ye!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 4.
+
+    "_Give them strength to brook and bear,
+    Trial pain, and trial care;
+    Let them see Thy saving light;
+    Be Thou 'Watchman of their night.'_"
+              --Sabbath Evening Song.
+
+
+Armed with a special order of the then Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Nicholas
+Fowler, I sallied forth one lovely blue day in June, and timidly rang
+the little brass bell beside the little green door giving into Newgate
+Prison.
+
+The gaol is now only used to house the prisoners on the days of trial,
+and for executions on the days of expiation; at other times, save for
+the presence of a couple of warders, it is entirely empty, and empty it
+was on this my day of call.
+
+Presenting my mandate to the very civil warder who replied to my
+summons, I was (he having to guard the door) handed to his colleague's
+care, to be shown the mysteries of this great silent tomb, lying so
+gloomily amid the City's stir.
+
+The first point of interest was the chapel, with that terribly
+suggestive chair, standing alone in the centre of the floor opposite
+the pulpit, on which the condemned used to sit the Sunday before his
+dreadful death, and, the observed of all the other prisoners, heard
+his own funeral sermon preached--a refinement of cruelty difficult
+to understand in this very Christian country. Then followed a visit
+to the condemned cells, two in number, and which are situated far
+below the level of the outside street. They are small square rooms
+with whitewashed walls, enlivened by one or two peculiarly ill-chosen
+texts; in each is a fixed truckle bedstead, with a warder's fixed seat
+on either side. The warder in attendance stated that he had passed
+many nights in them with condemned prisoners, and had rarely found his
+charges either restless or unable to sleep well, long, and calmly!
+
+There is an old story told of a murderer, about whose case some doubt
+was raised, and to whom the prison chaplain, as he lay under sentence
+of death, lent a Bible. In due course a free pardon arrived, and as the
+prisoner left the gaol, he turned to the chaplain saying, "Well, sir,
+here's your Bible; many thanks for the loan of it, and I only hope I
+shall never want it again."
+
+Then we visited the pinioning room; this process is carried out by
+strapping on a sort of leather strait-waistcoat, with buckles at the
+back and outside sockets for the arms and wrists. While putting on one
+of these, I found the leather was cold and damp; it then occurred to
+me, with some horror, that it was still moist with the death-sweat of
+the executed.
+
+The scaffold stands alone across one of the yards, in a little wooden
+building not inappropriately like a butcher's shop. When used, the
+large shutter in front is let down, and the interior is seen to consist
+of a heavy cross-beam on two uprights, a link or two of chain in the
+middle, a very deep drop, with padded leather sides to deaden the sound
+of the falling platform, a covered space on one side for the coffin,
+and on the other a strong lever, such as is used on railways to move
+the points, and which here draws the bolt, releasing the platform on
+which the culprit stands; a high stool for the victim, should he prove
+nervous or faint--and that is all the furniture and fittings of this
+gruesome building.
+
+The dark cell is perhaps the most dreadful part of this peculiarly
+ghastly show, and after being shut in it for a few minutes, which
+seemed hours, one fully understood its terrific taming power over the
+most rebellious prisoners: you are literally enveloped in a sort of
+velvety blackness that can be felt, which, with the absolute and awful
+silence, seemed to force the blood to the head and choke one.
+
+Upon asking the warder to tell us something of the idiosyncrasies of
+the more celebrated criminals he had known, he stated that Wainright
+the murderer was the most talkative, vain, and boastful person he had
+seen there, that his craving for tobacco was curiously extreme, and
+he was immensely gratified when the governor of the prison promised
+him a large cigar the night before his execution. The promise kept, he
+walked up and down the yard with the governor, detailing with unctuous
+pleasure his youthful amours and deceptions, like another Pepys. "But,"
+added my informant, "the pleasantest, cheeriest man we ever had to hang
+in my time was Dr. Lampson, full of fun and anecdote, with nice manners
+that made him friends all round. He was outwardly very brave in facing
+his fate, and yet, as he walked to the scaffold, those behind him saw
+all the back muscles writhing, working, and twitching like snakes in a
+bag, and thus belying the calm face and gentle smile in front. Ah! we
+missed him very much indeed, and were very sorry to lose him. A real
+gentleman he was in every way!"
+
+It was pleasant, and a vast relief after this strange experience, to
+emerge suddenly from this dream of mad, sad, bad things into the roar
+of the City streets, to see the blue sky, and find men's faces looking
+once again pleasantly into our own; but, nevertheless, Newgate should
+be seen by the curious, and those who can do so without coercion,
+before it disappears.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 5.
+
+    "_To all their dated backs he turns you round:
+    These Aldus printed, those Du Sueil has bound._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+It is the present fashion to extol the old bookbinders at the expense
+of the living, and for collectors to give fabulous prices for a volume
+bound by De Thou, Geoffroy Tory, Philippe le Noir, the two Eves
+(Nicolas and Clovis), Le Gascon, Derome, and others.
+
+Beautiful, rare, and interesting as their work is, I venture to say
+that we have modern bookbinders in England and France who can, and do,
+if you give them plenty of time and a free hand as to price, produce
+work as fine, as original, as closely thought out, as beautiful in
+design, material, and colour, as that of any of the great masters of
+the craft of olden days.
+
+For perfectly simple work of the best kind, examine the bindings of
+the late Francis Bedford; and his name reminds me of a curious freak
+of the late Duke of Portland in relation to this art. He subscribed
+for all the ordinary newspapers and magazines of the day, and instead
+of consigning them to the waste-paper basket when read, had them whole
+bound in beautiful crushed morocco coats of many colours by the said
+Bedford; then he had perfectly fitting oaken boxes made, lined with
+white velvet, and fitted with a patent Bramah lock and duplicate keys,
+each box to hold one volume, the total cost of thus habiting this
+literary rubbish being about L40 a volume. Bedford kept a special staff
+of expert workmen upon this curious standing order until the Duke died.
+By his will he, unfortunately, made them heirlooms, otherwise they
+would have sold well as curiosities, many bibliophiles liking to have
+possessed a volume with so odd a history. Soon after the Duke's death I
+went over the well-known house in Cavendish Square with my kind friend
+Mr. Woods of King Street, and he showed me piles of these boxes, each
+containing its beautifully bound volume of uselessness.
+
+But to return to our sheepskins. I would ask, where can you see finer
+workmanship than Mr. Joseph W. Zaehnsdorf puts into his enchanting
+covers? He once produced two lovely pieces of softly tanned,
+vellum-like leather of the purest white colour, and asked if I knew
+what they were. After some ineffectual guesses, he stated that the
+one with the somewhat coarser texture was a man's skin, and the finer
+specimen a woman's. The idea was disagreeable, and I declined to
+purchase or to have any volumes belonging to my simple shelves clothed
+in such garments.
+
+An English bookbinder who made a name in his day was Hayday; he
+flourished (as the biographical dictionaries are fond of saying) in
+the beginning of the present reign. I possess Samuel Rogers' "Poems"
+and "Italy," in two quarto volumes, bound by him very charmingly. In
+this size Turner's drawings, which illustrate these two books, are
+shown to admiration, and alone galvanise these otherwise dreary works.
+Hayday was succeeded by one Mansell, who also did some good work; but
+I think domestic affliction beclouded his later years, and affected his
+business, as I have lost sight of him for some years.
+
+Among other English bookbinders of the present day I would name Tout,
+whose simple, Quaker-like work, with Grolier tooling, is worth seeing.
+Mackenzie was, in his day, a good old Scotch binder; but the treasure
+I have personally found and introduced to many, is my excellent friend
+Mr. Birdsall of Northampton. His specialty is supposed to be in vellum
+bindings, which material he manipulates with a grace and finish very
+satisfactory to see. He can make the hinges of a vellum-bound book
+swing as easily as a friend's door. He spares no time, thought, or
+trouble in working out suitable designs for the books entrusted to his
+care. For instance, I possess Benjamin D'Israeli's German Grammar,
+used by him when a boy, and to bind it as he felt it deserved, he
+specially cast a brass stamp, with D'Israeli's crest, which, impressed
+adown the back and on the panels, correctly finishes this interesting
+memento. Then, again, when he had Beau Brummell's "Life" to work upon,
+he used dies representing a poppy, as an emblem flower, a money-bag,
+very empty, and a teasel, signifying the hanger-on: these show thought,
+as well as a pleasant fancy, and greatly add to the interest of the
+completed binding.
+
+I have some work by M. Marius Michel, the great French binder, whose
+show-cases in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain, in Paris, were a treat to
+examine. He was kind enough to let me one fine day select and take
+therefrom two volumes of E. A. Poe's works translated and noted by
+Beaudelaire, beautifully clothed by him; and he, at the same visit,
+gave me an autograph copy of his "L'Ornamentation des Reliures
+Modernes," with which, when I returned to England, I asked Mr. Birdsall
+to do what he could. Set a binder to catch a binder, was in this case
+our motto, and Mr. Birdsall has, I think, fairly caught out his great
+rival, although I have not yet had an opportunity of taking M. Michel's
+opinion upon the Englishman's work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One of the leading characteristics of the present day is its craze
+for work, unceasing work, work early and late, work done with a rush,
+destroying nerves, and rendering repose impossible. "Late taking rest
+and eating the bread of carefulness" do not go together, the bread
+being as a rule anything but carefully consumed. R. L. Stevenson
+somewhere says, "So long as you are a bit of a coward, and inflexible
+in money matters, you fulfil the whole duty of man," and perhaps this
+is the creed of the present race of over-workers. In the City of London
+we see this hasting to be rich brought to the perfection of a Fine Art
+(with a capital F and a capital A).
+
+Charles Dickens, who always resolved the wit of every question into a
+nutshell, makes Eugene Wrayburn, in "Our Mutual Friend," strenuously
+object to being always urged forward in the path of energy.
+
+"There's nothing like work," said Mr. Boffin; "look at the bees!"
+
+"I beg your pardon," returned Eugene, with a reluctant smile, "but will
+you excuse my mentioning that I always protest against being referred
+to the bees? ... I object on principle, as a two-footed creature,
+to being constantly referred to insects and four-footed creatures.
+I object to being required to model my proceedings according to the
+proceedings of the bee, or the dog, or the spider, or the camel. I
+fully admit that the camel, for instance, is an excessively temperate
+person; but he has several stomachs to entertain himself with, and I
+have only one." ...
+
+"But," urged Mr. Boffin, "I said the bee, they work."
+
+"Yes," returned Eugene disparagingly, "they work, but don't you think
+they overdo it? They work so much more than they need--they make so
+much more than they can eat--they are so incessantly boring and buzzing
+at their one idea till Death comes upon them--that don't you think they
+overdo it?"
+
+Some time since I cut from the pages of the _St. James' Gazette_ the
+following "Cynical Song of the City," which pleasantly sets forth the
+present craze for work, and again proves, like Dickens' bee, that we
+rather overdo it:--
+
+    "Through the slush and the rain and the fog,
+      When a greatcoat is worth a king's ransom,
+    To the City we jolt and we jog
+      On foot, in a 'bus, or a hansom;
+    To labour a few years, and then have done,
+    A capital prospect at twenty-one!
+
+    There's a wife and three children to keep,
+      With chances of more in the offing;
+    We've a house at Earl's Court on the cheap,
+      And sometimes we get a day's golfing.
+    Well! sooner or later we'll have better fun;
+    The heart is still hopeful at thirty-one.
+
+    The boy's gone to college to-day,
+      The girls must have ladylike dresses;
+    Thank goodness we're able to pay--
+      The business has had its successes;
+    We must grind at the mill for the sake of our son.
+    Besides, we're still youngish at forty-one.
+
+    It has come! We've a house in the shires,
+      We're one of the land-owning gentry,
+    The children have all their desires,
+      But _we_ must do more double-entry;
+    We must keep things together, no time left for fun,
+    Ah! had we been twenty--not fifty--one!
+
+    A Baronet! J.P.! D.L.!
+      But it means harder work, little pleasure;
+    We must stick to the City as well,
+      Though we're tired and longing for leisure.
+    We shall soon become toothless, dyspeptic, and done,
+    As rich as the Bank, though we can't chew a bun,
+    And the gold-grubber's grave is the goal that we've won
+    At seventy--eighty--or ninety-one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Guests at Foxwold are given the opportunity, when black Monday arrives,
+of catching a most unearthly and uneasily early train, which involves
+their rising with anything but a lark, swallowing a hurried breakfast,
+a mounting into fiery untamed one-horse shays soon after eight, and
+then being puffed away through South-Eastern tunnels to the busy hum of
+those unduly busy men of whom we speak.
+
+To catch this early train, which means that you "leave the warm
+precincts of your cheerful bed, nor cast one longing lingering look
+behind," some of our friends most justly object, preferring the early
+calm, the well-considered uprisal, the dawdled breakfast, and the
+ladies' train at the maturer hour of 10.30. Our dear friend, Mr.
+Anstey Guthrie, having firmly and most wisely declined the early
+train and any consequent worm, one very chilly morn, as the early
+risers were starting for the station, appeared at his chamber window
+awfully arrayed in white, and muttering with the fervour of another
+John Bradford, "There goes Anstey Guthrie--but for the grace of God,"
+plunged back into his rapidly cooling couch, "and left the world to
+darkness and to us."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 6.
+
+    "_It's idle to repine, I know;
+    I'll tell you what I'll do instead,
+    I'll drink my arrowroot, and go
+                         To bed._"--C. S. C.
+
+
+My good and kind old friend Robert Baxter, who now rests from his
+labours, was, during his long active life in Westminster (dispensing
+law to the rich and sharing its profits with the poor), one of the most
+charitable and hospitable of men.
+
+Occasionally, however, even his goodness was taxed with such severity,
+as to somewhat try his patience.
+
+The once well-known Mrs. X---- of A----, a philanthropic but foolish
+old woman, arrived late one evening, uninvited, at his house in Queen's
+Square, suffering from the first symptoms of rheumatic fever. Calmly
+establishing herself in the best guest-chamber, and surrounded by the
+necessary maid, nurse, and doctor, she turned her kind host's dwelling
+into a private hospital for many weeks. When at last she reached the
+stage of convalescence, and was allowed to take daily outings and
+airings, Mr. Baxter's capital old butler, Sage, had the privilege of
+carrying the fair but weighty invalid downstairs to the carriage, and
+upstairs to her rooms once, and often twice, a day. No small effort
+for any man's strength, however athletic he might be, and Sage, be it
+conceded, was a moderate giant.
+
+The weeks dragged themselves away, and at last the welcome date for
+a final flitting to her own home arrived. Sage felt that he had well
+earned an extraordinary douceur for all his labours, and was not
+therefore surprised when the good lady on leaving slipped into his
+willing hand a suggestive looking folded-up blue slip of paper instead
+of the more limited gold. Retiring to his pantry to satisfy his very
+natural curiosity as to the amount of the vail so fully deserved, his
+feelings may be imagined, but not described, when he found that instead
+of the expected cheque, it was what, in evangelical circles, is called
+a leaflet, bearing on its face the following appropriate and cheerful
+text: "Thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee!"
+
+Whilst upon the subject of misapplied texts, another instance, touched
+with a pleasant humour, occurs to me. Many years ago I visited for
+the first time an old friend and his wife in their pleasant country
+house. Upon being shown into what was evidently one of the best
+guest-chambers, I was intensely delighted to find over the mantelpiece
+the following framed text, in large illuminated letters: "Occupy till I
+come!" Unprepared to make so long a stay, I left on the Monday morning
+following, and have no doubt the generous invitation still remains to
+welcome the coming guest.
+
+Another story of a like nature was told us by Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and
+is therefore worth repeating. He once saw a long procession of happy
+school-children going to some feast, headed by a band of music and a
+standard-bearer. The latter was staggering beneath an immense banner,
+on which was painted the Lion of Saint Mark's, rampant, with mouth,
+teeth, and claws ready and rapacious; underneath was the singularly
+appropriate and happy legend, "Suffer little children to come unto Me."
+
+Another capital story from the same source, which time cannot wither,
+nor custom stale, is, that at some small English seaside resort a
+spirited and generous townsman has presented a number of free seats for
+the parade, each one adorned with an iron label stating that "Mr. Jones
+of this town presented these free seats for the public's use, the sea
+is his, and he made it."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 7
+
+    "_Where are my friends? I am alone;
+      No playmate shares my beaker:
+    Some lie beneath the churchyard stone,
+      And some--before the Speaker:
+    And some compose a tragedy,
+      And some compose a rondo;
+    And some draw sword for Liberty,
+      And some draw pleas for John Doe._"
+              --W. M. Praed.
+
+    "_All analysis comes late._"--Aurora Leigh.
+
+
+The difficulty which has existed since Lord Tennyson's dramatic death,
+of choosing a successor to the Laureateship, has partly arisen from
+the presence of so many minor poets, and the absence, with one
+remarkable exception, of any monarch of song.
+
+The exception is, of course, Mr. Swinburne, who stands alone as
+the greatest living master of English verse. The objections to his
+appointment may, in some eyes, have importance, but time has sobered
+his more erratic flights, leaving a large residuum of fine work, both
+in poetry and prose, which would make him a worthy successor to any of
+those gone before.
+
+Of the smaller fry, it is difficult to prophesy which will hereafter
+come to the front, and what of their work may live.
+
+As Oliver Wendell Holmes so pathetically says:--
+
+    "Deal gently with us, ye who read!
+      Our largest hope is unfulfilled;
+    The promise still outruns the deed;
+      The tower, but not the spire we build.
+
+    Our whitest pearl we never find;
+      Our ripest fruit we never reach;
+    The flowering moments of the mind,
+      Lose half their petals in our speech."
+
+The late Lord Lytton (Owen Meredith) was very unequal in all he
+produced. Perhaps the following ballad from his volume of "Selected
+Poems," published in 1894 by Longmans, is one of the best and most
+characteristic he has written:--
+
+THE WOOD DEVIL.
+
+    1.
+
+    "In the wood, where I wander'd astray,
+    Came the Devil a-talking to me,
+    O mother! mother! But why did ye tell me, and why did they say,
+    That the Devil's a horrible blackamoor? He
+    Black-faced and horrible? No, mother, no!
+    And how should a poor girl be likely to know
+    That the Devil's so gallant and gay, mother?
+    So gentle and gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!
+
+    II.
+
+    And 'Pretty one, whither away?
+    And shall I come with you?' said he.
+    O mother! mother!
+    And so winsome he was, not a word could I say,
+    And he kiss'd me, and sweet were his kisses to me,
+    And he kiss'd me, and kiss'd till I kiss'd him again,
+    And O, not till he left me I knew to my pain
+    'Twas the Devil that led me astray, mother!
+    The Devil so gallant and gay,
+    With his curly head, and his comely face,
+    And his cap and feather, and saucy grace,
+    Mother! mother!"
+
+Mr. Edmund Gosse's work is always scholarly and well thought out,
+framed in easy, pleasant English. In some of his poems he reminds one
+of the "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." His song of the "Wounded
+Gull" is very like Dr. Holmes, both in subject and treatment:--
+
+    "The children laughed, and called it tame!
+      But ah! one dark and shrivell'd wing
+    Hung by its side; the gull was lame,
+      A suffering and deserted thing.
+
+    With painful care it downward crept;
+      Its eye was on the rolling sea;
+    Close to our very feet, it stept
+      Upon the wave, and then--was free.
+
+    Right out into the east it went
+      Too proud, we thought, to flap or shriek;
+    Slowly it steered, in wonderment
+      To find its enemies so meek.
+
+    Calmly it steered, and mortal dread
+      Disturbed nor crest nor glossy plume;
+    It could but die, and being dead,
+      The open sea should be its tomb.
+
+    We watched it till we saw it float
+      Almost beyond our furthest view;
+    It flickered like a paper boat,
+      Then faded in the dazzling blue.
+
+    It could but touch an English heart
+      To find an English bird so brave;
+    Our life-blood glowed to see it start
+      Thus boldly on the leaguered wave."
+
+A few fortunate persons possess copies of Mr. Gosse's catalogue of his
+library, and it is, I rejoice to say, on the Foxwold shelves. It is a
+most charming work, reflecting on every page, by many subtle touches,
+the refined humour and wide knowledge of the collector. Mr. Austin
+Dobson wrote for the final fly-leaf as follows:--
+
+    "I doubt your painful Pedants who
+    Can read a dictionary through;
+    But he must be a dismal dog,
+    Who can't enjoy this Catalogue!"
+
+Of the little mutual admiration and log-rolling society, whose
+headquarters are in Vigo Street, no serious account need be taken.
+Time will deal with these very minor poets, and whether kindly or not,
+Time will prove. They may possibly be able to await the verdict with a
+serene and confident patience--and so can we. An exception may perhaps
+be made for some of Mr. Arthur Symon's "Silhouettes," as the following
+extract will show:--
+
+    "Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
+      Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
+    Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
+      As I saw her once for a while.
+
+    Emmy's laughter rings in my ears, as bright,
+      Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook,
+    And still I hear her telling us tales that night,
+      Out of Boccaccio's book.
+
+    There, in the midst of the villainous dancing-hall,
+      Leaning across the table, over the beer,
+    While the music maddened the whirling skirts of the ball,
+      As the midnight hour drew near.
+
+    There with the women, haggard, painted, and old,
+      One fresh bud in a garland withered and stale,
+    She, with her innocent voice and her clear eyes, told
+      Tale after shameless tale.
+
+    And ever the witching smile, to her face beguiled,
+      Paused and broadened, and broke in a ripple of fun,
+    And the soul of a child looked out of the eyes of a child,
+      Or ever the tale was done.
+
+    O my child, who wronged you first, and began
+      First the dance of death that you dance so well?
+    Soul for soul: and I think the soul of a man
+      Shall answer for yours in hell."
+
+Mr. Austin Dobson and the late Mr. Locker-Lampson are perhaps the
+finest writers of _vers de Societe_ since Praed; whilst in the
+broader school of humour C. S. Calverley, Mr. Dodgson (of "Alice in
+Wonderland" fame), and the late James Kenneth Stephen, stand alone and
+unchallenged; and Mr. Watson, if health serve, will go far; and so with
+some pathetic words of one of these moderns we will end this somewhat
+aimless chat:--
+
+    "My heart is dashed with cares and fears,
+      My song comes fluttering and is gone;
+    Oh, high above this home of tears,
+          Eternal joy,--sing on."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 8.
+
+    "_Punch! in the presence of the passengers._"
+
+
+Within the past year certain gentle disputes and friendly discussions
+as to the origin of _Punch_, and who its first real editor was, and
+whether or no Henry Mayhew evolved it with the help of suitable friends
+in a debtor's prison, remind us that Foxwold possesses some rather
+curious "memories" of this famous paper.
+
+These disputes should now be put to rest for ever by Mr. Spielmann's
+exhaustive "History of Mr. Punch," which, it may safely be supposed,
+appeared with some sort of authority from "Mr. Punch" himself.
+
+One of our "Odds and Ends" is a kit-kat portrait in oil of Horace
+Mayhew, "Ponny," excellent both as a likeness and a work of art,
+which should eventually find hanging space in the celebrated _Punch_
+dining-room. There is also a pencil drawing of him, in which "the
+Count," as he was called, is dressed in the smartest fashion of that
+day, and crowned with a D'Orsay hat, resplendent, original, and gay.
+
+He made a rather unhappy marriage late in his life, and found that
+habits from which he was not personally free showed themselves rather
+frequently in his wife's conduct. One day, in a state of emotion and
+whisky and water, he pressed Mark Lemon's hand, and, bursting into
+tears, murmured, "My dear friend, she drinks! she drinks!!" "All
+right," was the editor's cheery reply, "my dear boy; cheer up, so do
+you!"
+
+Near by hangs a characteristic pencil sketch of Douglas Jerrold, who,
+if small, was no hunchback (as has been lately stated), but was a
+very neatly made, active little man, with a grand head covered with a
+profusion of lightish hair, which he had a trick of throwing back, like
+a lion's mane, and a pair of bright piercing blue eyes. There is an
+engraving of a bust of him prefixed to his life (written by his son,
+Blanchard Jerrold), which well conveys the nobility of the well-set
+head. Then comes a capital drawing of Kenny Meadows in profile, and a
+thoroughly characteristic Irish phiz it is.
+
+These pencil portraits are all from the gifted hand of Mr. George
+Augustus Sala, and formerly belonged to Horace Mayhew himself. Mr.
+Sala, as is now well known by means of his autobiography, was once an
+artist and book-illustrator, and Foxwold is the proud possessor of
+the only picture in oil extant from his brush. It is called "Saturday
+Night in a Gin-Palace": it is full of a Hogarthian power, and by its
+execution, drawing, and colour shows that had Mr. Sala made painting
+his profession instead of literature, he would have gone far and fared
+well. The little picture is signed "G. A. Sala," and was found many
+years ago in an old house in Brompton, when the present owner secured
+it for a moderate sum, and then wrote to Mr. Sala asking if the picture
+was authentic. A reply was received by the next post, in the beautiful
+handwriting for which he is famous, and runs as follows:---
+
+            46 Mecklenburgh Square, W.C.,
+                _Tuesday, Twenty-fifth June 1878_.
+
+     "Dear Sir,
+
+     I beg to acknowledge receipt of your courteous and (to me)
+     singularly interesting note.
+
+     "Yes, the little old oil-picture of the 'Gin-Palace Bar' is mine
+     sure enough. I can remember it as distinctly as though it had been
+     painted yesterday. Great casks of liquor in the background; little
+     stunted figures (including one of a dustman with a shovel) in the
+     foreground. Details executed with laborious niggling minuteness;
+     but the whole work must be now dingy and faded to almost total
+     obscuration, since I remember that in painting it I only used
+     turpentine for a medium, the spirit of which must have long since
+     'flown,' and left the pigment flat or 'scaly.'
+
+     "The thing was done in Paris six-and-twenty years ago (Ap. 1852),
+     and being brought to London, was sold to the late Adolphus
+     Ackermann, of the bygone art-publishing firm of Ackermann & Co.,
+     96 Strand (premises now occupied by E. Rimmel, the perfumer), for
+     the sum of five pounds. I hope that you did not give more than
+     a few shillings for it, for it was a vile little daub. I was at
+     the time when I produced it an engraver and lithographer, and I
+     believe that Mr. Ackermann only purchased the picture with a view
+     to encourage me to 'take up' oil-painting. But I did not do so. I
+     'took up' literature instead, and a pretty market I have brought
+     my pigs to! At all events, _you_ possess the only picture in oil
+     extant from the brush of
+
+            Yours very faithfully,
+
+                George Augustus Sala."
+
+     _To_ H. N. Pym, Esq.
+
+When Mr. Sala afterwards called to see the picture, he altered his mind
+as to its being "a vile little daub," and found the colours as fresh
+and bright as when painted. We greatly value it, if only as the cause
+of a lasting friendship it started with the artist.
+
+His own portrait by Vernet, in pen and ink, now graces our little
+gallery; it is a back view, taken amidst his books, and a most
+characteristic and excellent likeness of this accomplished and
+versatile gentleman.[1]
+
+One of our guest-chambers is solemnly dedicated to the honour and glory
+of "Mr. Punch," and on its walls hang some original oil sketches by
+John Leech, drawings by Charles Keene, Mr. Harry Furniss, Randolph
+Caldecote, Mr. Bernard Partridge, Mr. Anstey Guthrie, and Mr. Du
+Maurier; whilst kindly caricatures of some of the staff, and a print of
+the celebrated dinner-table, signed by the contributors, complete the
+decoration of a very cheery little room.
+
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[1] Whilst these pages are passing through the press, George Augustus
+Sala has been mercifully permitted to rest from his labours. An
+unfortunate adventure with a new paper brought about serious troubles,
+physical and financial, and ended his useful and hard-working life
+in gloom: as Mr. Bancroft (a mutual friend) observed to the editor
+of this volume, "It is so sad when the autumn of such a life is
+tempestuous."--_December 8, 1895._
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 9
+
+    "_Then be contented. Thou hast got
+    The most of heaven in thy young lot;
+          There's sky-blue in thy cup!
+    Thou'lt find thy Manhood all too fast---
+    Soon come, soon gone! and Age at last,
+          A sorry breaking-up._"
+                --Thomas Hood.
+
+
+It was my good fortune some short time since to revisit that most
+educational of English towns, Bedford, and having many years ago had
+the extreme privilege of being a Bedford schoolboy, I was able to draw
+a comparison between then and now.
+
+In the good old days these admirable schools were managed in the good
+old way--plenty of classics, plenty of swishing, plenty of cricket
+and boating, and plenty of holidays. We sometimes turned out boys who
+afterwards made their mark in the big world, and the School Registers
+are proud to contain the names of such men as Burnell, the Oriental
+scholar, who out-knowledged even Sir William Jones in this respect;
+Colonel Fred. Burnaby, brave soldier and attractive travel writer;
+Inverarity, the lion-hunter and crack shot; Sir Henry Hawkins, stern
+judge and brilliant wit, and many others of like degree. Nor must we
+forgot that John Bunyan here learnt sufficient reading and writing
+to enable him in after years to pen his marvellous Book during his
+imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, which was then situated midway on the
+bridge over the river Ouse.
+
+In that wonderful monument to the courage and enterprise of Mr. George
+Smith (kindest of friends and best of publishers), "The National
+Dictionary of Biography," the record is frequent of men who owed their
+education and perhaps best chance in the life they afterwards made a
+success, to Bedford School, but,--
+
+    "Long hushed are the chords that my boyhood enchanted,
+      As when the smooth wave by the angel was stirred,
+    Yet still with their music is memory haunted,
+      And oft in my dreams are their melodies heard."
+
+But if the good old School was a success in those bygone days, what
+must be said for it now, when, under the Napoleon-like administration
+of its present chief, the school-house has been rebuilt in its own
+park, upon all the best and latest known principles of comfort and
+sanitation, where a boy can, besides going through the full round
+of usual study, follow the bent of his own peculiar taste, and find
+special training, whether it be in horse-shoeing or music, chemistry
+or wood-carving, ambulance work or drawing from the figure; whilst the
+beautiful river is covered with boats, the cricket-fields and football
+yards are crowded, and the bathing stations are a constant joy?
+
+Truly the present generation of Bedford boys are much blessed in
+their surroundings; and whilst they remember with gratitude the pious
+founder, Sir William Harper, should strive to do credit to his name and
+memory by the exercise of their powers in the battle of after-life,
+having received so thorough and broad-minded a training in the happy
+and receptive days of their youth.
+
+Bedford town is now one of the most strikingly attractive in England,
+with its fine river embankment, its grand old churches, its statues
+erected to the memory of the "inspired tinker," Bunyan, and the prison
+philanthropist, Howard, both of whom lived about a mile or so from
+the town, the former at Elstow, the latter at Cardington. It was very
+good and heart-restoring to revisit the hospitable old school with its
+pleasant surroundings and to find, as Robert Louis Stevenson says,
+that,--
+
+    "Home from the Indies, and home from the ocean,
+      Heroes and soldiers they all shall come home;
+    Still they shall find the old mill-wheel in motion,
+      Turning and churning that river to foam."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Since printing our last little "Tour Round the Bookshelves," in
+which we ventured to include some capital lines by our evergreen and
+many-sided friend Rudolf Chambers Lehmann, he has again added to the
+interest of our Visitors' Book under the following circumstances.
+Guests and home-birds were all resting after the exhausting idleness
+of an Easter holiday when they were suddenly aroused from their
+day-dreams by loud cries of "Fire!" accompanied by the sound of horses
+and chariots approaching the house at full speed. On looking out, like
+Sister Anne or a pretty page, we were able to assuage our guests'
+natural alarm by explaining that the local fire brigade were practising
+upon our vile bodies and dwelling, and if fear existed, danger did not.
+On their ultimately retiring, satisfied with their mock efforts, and
+fortified by beer, our welcome guest wrote with his usual flying pen
+the following characteristic lines to commemorate their visit:--
+
+     "FIRE! FIRE!!"
+
+     (AN EASTER MONDAY INCIDENT.)
+
+    "A day of days, an April day;
+      Cool air without, and cloudless sun;
+    Within, upon the ordered tray,
+      Cakes, and the luscious Sally-Lunn.
+    Since Pym has walked, and Guthrie climbed
+      To rob some feathered songster's nest,
+    Their toil needs tea, the hour has chimed--
+      Pour, lady, pour, and let them rest.
+
+    But hark! what sound disturbs their tea,
+      And clatters up the carriage drive?
+    A dinner guest? it cannot be;
+      No, no, the hour is only five.
+    What sight is this the fates disclose,
+      That breaks upon our startled view?
+    Two horses, countless yards of hose,
+      Nine firemen, and an engine too.
+
+    Where burns the fire? Tush, 'tis but sport;
+      The horses stop, the men descend,
+    Take hoses long, and hoses short,
+      And fit them deftly end to end.
+    Attention! lo their chieftain calls--
+      They run, they answer to their names,
+    And hypothetic water falls
+      In streams upon imagined flames.
+
+    Well done, ye braves, 'twas nobly done;
+      Accept, the peril past, our thanks;
+    Though all your toil was only fun,
+      And air was all that filled your tanks:
+    No, not for nought you came and dared,
+      Return in peace, and drink your fill;
+    It was, as Mrs. Pym declared,
+      'A highly interesting drill.'"
+
+    _April 3, 1893._
+
+Another poet whose pen sometimes gilds our modest Record of Angels'
+Visits, is a well-beloved cousin, Harry Luxmoore by name, at Eton known
+so well. His Christmas greeting for 1890 shall here appear, and prove
+to him how deep is Foxwold's affectionate obligation for wishes so
+delightfully expressed:--
+
+    "Glooms overhead a frozen sky,
+      Rings underfoot a snow-ribbed earth,
+    Yet somewhere slumbering sunbeams lie,
+      And somewhere sleeps the coming birth.
+
+    Folded in root and grain is lying,
+      The bud, the bloom we soon may see,
+    And in the old year now a-dying
+      Is hid the new year that shall be.
+
+    O what if snows be deep? so shrouded
+      Matures the soil with promise rife
+    And sap, for all the skies be clouded,
+      Ripens at heart a lustier life.
+
+    Then welcome winter--while we shiver
+      Strength harbours deeper, and the blast
+    Of sounder, manlier force the giver
+      Strips off betimes our withered past.
+
+    Come bud and bloom, come fruit and flower,
+      Come weal, come woe, as best may be,
+    Still may the New Year's hidden dower
+      Be good for you and Horace, and all the little
+           ones, and good for me."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 10.
+
+    "_My ears are deaf with this impatient crowd:
+    Their wants are now grown mutinous and loud._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+The following graphic account of the rising in Paris in 1848 was
+written by John Poole to Charles Dickens, and was recently found
+amongst the papers of Mrs. John Forster, the widow of the well-known
+writer, Dickens' friend and biographer, and is, I think, worthy of
+print.
+
+John Poole was a sometime celebrated character, having written that
+evergreen play "Paul Pry," as well as "Little Pedlington," and other
+humorous works mostly now forgotten.
+
+As he grew old poverty came to bear him company, and was only prevented
+from causing him actual suffering by the usual generosity of Dickens
+and other members of that charmed circle, further aided by a small
+Government grant, obtained for him by the same faithful friend from
+Lord John Russell.
+
+The letter is addressed to
+
+  CHARLES DICKENS, Esq.,
+    No. 1 Devonshire Terrace,
+      York Gate, Regent's Park,
+          LONDON,
+
+and deals with the celebrated uprisal of the French mob, when a force
+of 75,000 regulars and nearly 200,000 National Guards was massed round
+Paris to resist it. The carnage was terrible, some 8000 persons being
+killed on both sides, and 14,000 insurgents made prisoners.
+
+It was only by General Cavaignac's firmness and tactful management
+under Lamartine's directions, that the mob was reduced and the
+Republican Government established. The general was afterwards nearly
+elected President of the French Republic, receiving 1,448,000 votes,
+but Prince Louis Napoleon beat him, and, as history tells, held the
+reins in various capacities for the next twenty eventful years.
+
+Poole's letter, as that of an eye-witness, gives a remarkably clear
+impression of the scene as it appeared in his orbit. Dickens, on
+receiving it, evidently sent it the round of his friends, and it then
+remained in John Forster's possession until his death.
+
+            "(Paris), _Saturday, 8 Jul 1848_.
+
+     "My dear Dickens,
+
+     I wrote to you through the Embassy on the 22nd June, giving you an
+     address for the three last Dombeys, and enclosing a catalogue of
+     the ex-King's wine; and on the 16th I sent you a word in a letter
+     to Macready. Dombeys not yet arrived, and I shall wait no longer
+     to acknowledge their arrival (as I have been doing), but at once
+     proceed to give you a few lines. Since the day of my writing to
+     you I have lived four years: Friday (the 23rd), Saturday, Sunday,
+     Monday, each a year.
+
+     "The proceedings of the three days of February were mere
+     child's-play compared with these. Never shall I forget them, for
+     they showed me scenes of blood and death. Friday morning the
+     '_rappel_' was beat--always a disagreeable hint. Presently I
+     heard discharges of musketry, then they beat the '_generale._' My
+     _concierge_ ran into my room, and, with a long white face, told me
+     the mob had erected huge barricades in the Faubourg-Saint-Denis,
+     and above, down to the Porte St. Denis, and that tremendous
+     fighting was going on there. (The Porte St. Denis bears marks of
+     the fray.) 'Then, Madame Blanchard,' I said, 'as you seem to be
+     breaking out again, I shall take a _sac-de-nuit_, and say adieu to
+     you till you shall have returned to your good behaviour.'--'But
+     monsieur could not get away for love or money--the insurgents have
+     possession of the Chemin de Fer, and had torn up the rails as far
+     as St. Denis.' This was what she had been told, so I went out to
+     ascertain the fact.
+
+     "Impossible to approach that quarter, and difficult to turn the
+     corner of a street without interruption--groups of fifteen,
+     twenty, thirty, fifty, in blouses, dotted all about. Towards
+     evening matters seemed rather more tranquil, and between six and
+     seven o'clock I contrived (though not easily) to make my way
+     to Sestels, in the Rue St. Honore (one of the very best of the
+     second-rate restaurateurs in Paris, 'which note'). The large
+     saloon was filled with men in uniform, National Guards chiefly,
+     and only two women there. I was there about an hour, and in that
+     time three dead bodies were carried past on covered litters. It
+     was thought the disturbances were pretty well over, as a powerful
+     body of troops had been ordered down to the scene of action.
+
+     "At about eight o'clock I went out for the purpose of making
+     a visit in the Rue d'Enghien, but found the whole width of
+     the Boulevard Montmartre, which, as you know, leads to the
+     Boulevard St. Denis, defended by a compact body of National
+     Guards--impassable! Between nine and ten o'clock three regiments
+     of cavalry, with cannon--a long, long procession--marched in the
+     direction of the scene of insurrection. This was a comforting
+     sight, and as such everybody seemed to consider it, and I went
+     home. And this was Midsummer Eve!--Walpurgis Night!
+
+     "The next day, Saturday, Midsummer Day, I never shall forget!
+     Sleep had been hopeless--the night had been disturbed by the
+     frequent beating of the '_generale_' and the cry '_Aux Armes!_'
+     Every now and then I looked up at the sky, expecting to see it
+     red from some direful conflagration. Day came, and soon the
+     firing of musketry was heard, now from the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine, now from the Faubourg-Saint-Marceaux.
+     Then came the heavy booming of cannon--death in every echo! From
+     twelve till nearly one, and again after a pause, it was dreadful.
+     (I cannot make 'fun' of this, like the facetious correspondent of
+     the _Morning Post_. Who is he? Surely he must be an ex-reporter
+     for the Cobourg Play-house, with his vulgar, ill-timed play-house
+     quotations. I am utterly disgusted and revolted at the tasteless
+     levity with which he describes scenes of blood and destruction and
+     death, and so treats of matters, all of which require grave and
+     sober handling. And then he describes, as an eye-witness, things
+     which, happen though they did, I am certain he could not have been
+     present to see.)
+
+     "Well, as we were soon to be in a state of siege, and strictly
+     confined to home, I can tell you nothing but what I saw here on
+     this very spot. One event is a remembrance for life. In this
+     house lived General de Bourgon, one of what they call the 'old
+     Africans.' In the course of the morning General Korte (another
+     of them) called on him, and said, 'I dare say Cavaignac has
+     plenty to do. I will go and ask him if we can be of any service
+     to him. If we can, I will send for you, so keep yourself in the
+     way.' He was in Paris 'on leave,' and had no horse with him, so
+     he sent Blanchard (the _concierge_) to the _manege_, which is in
+     the next street, to inquire whether they had a horse that would
+     'stand fire.' Yes; but they would not let it go out. The next
+     message intimated that they must send it, or it would be taken by
+     force. At about two o'clock, going out, I met, coming out of his
+     apartments on the second floor (I, you know, am on the fourth),
+     General de Bourgon, in plain clothes, accompanied by his wife and
+     his sister-in-law--the latter a very beautiful woman, somewhat in
+     the style of Mrs. Norton. As usual, we exchanged _bon-jours_ in
+     passing. I went as far as the boulevard at the end of the street.
+     There was a strong guard at the 'Hotel des Affaires Etrangeres,'
+     and there I was stopped. An officer of the National Guard asked
+     me whether I was proceeding in the direction of my residence.
+     Answering in the negative, he said (but with great courtesy),
+     'Then, sir, I advise you to return; it is in your interest I do
+     so; besides' (pointing in the direction where was heard a heavy
+     firing), 'd'ailleurs, monsieur, ce n'est pas aujourd'hui un jour
+     de promenade.'
+
+     "I returned, and tried by the Place Vendome, but about half-way
+     up the Rue de la Paix was again stopped. After loitering about
+     for an hour, and unable to get anything in the shape of positive
+     information, I returned home. Shortly after three I saw the
+     General de Bourgon in full uniform, and on horseback. He proceeded
+     a few paces, stopped to have one of his stirrup-leathers adjusted,
+     and then, followed by an orderly, went off at a brisk trot. Soon
+     afterwards a guard was placed in the middle and at each end of
+     this street; no one was allowed to loiter, or to quit it but with
+     good reason, and only then was passed on by one sentinel to the
+     next, so from that moment I was not out of the house till Monday
+     morning.
+
+     "At about half-past six the street--usually a noisy one--being
+     perfectly still, I heard the measured tramp of feet approaching
+     from the direction of the boulevard. I went to the window, and saw
+     about fifteen or eighteen soldiers, some bearing, and the rest
+     guarding, a litter, on which was stretched a wounded officer.
+     He was bare-headed, his black stock had been removed, his coat
+     thrown wide open, and over his left thigh was spread a soldier's
+     grey greatcoat. To my horror the procession stopped at this door.
+     It was the General brought home desperately wounded! I ran down
+     and saw him brought up to his apartment, crying out with agony at
+     every shake he received on the winding, slippery staircase. On
+     the following Friday (the 30th), at eleven o'clock at noon, after
+     severe suffering, he died. In the course of the day I saw him; his
+     neck was uncovered, and the eyes open (a painter had been making
+     a sketch of him)--he looked like one in placid contemplation.
+     Previously to the fatal result, at one of my frequent visits of
+     inquiry, I saw Madame de Bourgon (the sister-in-law). She replied
+     mournfully, but without apparent emotion, 'We are in hopes they
+     will be able to perform the amputation to-morrow.' (They could
+     not.) 'But see! he has passed his life, as it were, on the field
+     of battle--twelve years in Africa--and to fall in this way! But it
+     was his duty to go out.'
+
+     "'And, madame, how is she?'
+
+     "'Eh, mon Dieu, monsieur! how would you have her be? But a
+     soldier's wife must be prepared for these things.'
+
+     "(She, the sister-in-law, is the wife of the general's brother,
+     Colonel de Bourgon.) His friend, General Korte, too, was wounded,
+     but not dangerously.
+
+     "In all the African campaigns only two generals were killed, in
+     these street fights six! But the insurgents fought at tremendous
+     advantage. On that said Saturday afternoon two incidents occurred,
+     trifling if you will, but they struck me. A large flight of crows
+     passed over, taking a direction towards the prison of St. Lazare,
+     showing that fighting was murderous; and a rainbow (one of the
+     most beautiful I ever saw) rested like an arch on the line of roof
+     of the opposite houses. Beneath it seemed to come the noise of the
+     fight; the sign of peace and the sounds of war and death. Mrs.
+     Norton could make a verse or two out of this. This was Midsummer's
+     Day!
+
+     "Our Midsummer Night's dreams were not pleasant, believe me.
+     No--there was no sleep on that night--a night of terrible
+     anxiety. Paris was in a state of siege--no one allowed to be
+     out of the house, nor a window permitted to be opened. All
+     night was heard in ceaseless round, from the sentinel under my
+     very window--'Sentinelle prenez garde a vous.' I can hardly
+     describe by words the peculiar tone in which this was uttered,
+     but the syllable 'nelle' was accented, and the word 'vous' was
+     uttered briskly and sharply, like a sort of bark. This was
+     given _fortissimo_--repeated by the next _forte_--beyond him,
+     _piano_--further on, _pianissimo_--till it returned, louder
+     and louder, and then died away again, and so on, and on, and
+     on till daybreak. Then was beat the '_rappel_'--then the
+     '_generale_'--then again the firing.
+
+     "This was Sunday morning, and from five o'clock till ten at
+     night was not the happiest, but the longest day of my life. Any
+     sort of occupation was out of the question. Each hour appeared a
+     day. Impossible to get out, or to receive a visit, or to send a
+     message, or to procure any reliable information as to what was
+     going on, or how or when these doings were likely to end. All
+     was doubt, uncertainty, dread and anxiety intolerable. The only
+     information to be procured was from the bearers of some wounded
+     men as they passed now and then to the Ambulance (the temporary
+     hospital established at the Church of the Assumption). But no two
+     accounts were alike. I was suffering deep anxiety concerning a
+     good kind French family of my acquaintance, living within a five
+     minutes' walk of this place. 'Could I by any possibility procure a
+     commissionaire to carry a note for me? I'll give him five francs
+     (the hire being ten sous).' 'Not, sir,' said my _concierge_, 'if
+     you would give a hundred!' The poor general wanted some soldiers
+     from the barracks (next to the Assumption) to carry an order
+     for him. After great difficulty the wife of the _concierge_ was
+     allowed to go and fetch one; but she was searched for ammunition
+     by the first sentinel, and then passed on thus and back again
+     from one to another. No post in--no letters--no newspapers.
+     At length, at a month's end, night came. That night like the
+     last--'Sentinelle prenez garde a vous,' &c. &c.
+
+     "On Monday morning (26th), after a sleepless night--for, for any
+     means we had of knowing to the contrary, the insurgents might at
+     any moment be expected to attack this quarter, a quarter marked
+     down by them for fire and pillage--at about eight o'clock, I
+     lay down on a sofa and slept soundly till ten; I awoke, and was
+     struck by the appalling silence! This is a noisy street. Always
+     from about seven in the morning till late in the day one's head
+     is distracted by the shrill cries of itinerant traders (to these
+     are now added the cries of the vendors of cheap newspapers),
+     the passage of carriages and carts of all descriptions,
+     street-singers, organ-grinders endless, the screeching of parrots
+     and barking of dogs exposed for sale by a _grocer_ on the
+     opposite side of the way, together with the swarming of his and
+     his neighbour's dirty children--all was hushed; not a footfall,
+     'not (a line that is not often applicable here) a drum was
+     heard.' Yes, I repeat it, this universal silence was appalling!
+     Not a person, save the still guards on duty, was to be seen. The
+     shops were all closed, and, but for this circumstance, it seemed
+     like a Sunday! Strange! (and I find it was the same with many
+     other persons to whom I have mentioned the circumstance) I was
+     uncertain during these anxious days as to the day of the week.
+     At about eleven o'clock the _concierge_ came to tell me that the
+     insurrection was at an end. In less than an hour there was heard
+     a sharp fusillade and a heavy cannonade in the direction of the
+     Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The insurgents had strengthened themselves
+     at that point (she came to say), but that, so far as she could
+     learn, General Cavaignac had at length resolved, by bombarding the
+     _quartier_, to suppress the insurrection before the day should
+     end. _And he did!_
+
+     "Frequently during the day parties of tired soldiers, scarcely
+     able to walk, passed on their way from the scene of action to
+     their barracks or their bivouac; wounded men were every now and
+     then brought to the Ambulance close by--one a Cuirassier, who, as
+     the guard saluted him, smiled faintly, and just raised his hand
+     in sign of recognition, which fell again at his side; and, most
+     striking of all, bands of prisoners from among the insurgents!!
+     Among them such hideous faces! scarcely human! No one knows whence
+     they come. Like the stormy petrel, they only are seen in troubled
+     times. I saw some such in the days of February, but never before,
+     nor afterwards, till now. Imagine O. Smith, well "made-up"
+     for one of the bloodiest and most melodramatic of his bloody
+     melodramas--a Parisian dandy compared with some of these. Some of
+     them naked to the waist, smeared with blood, hair and beard matted
+     and of incalculable growth, bloodshot eyes, scowling ferocious
+     brutes, their tigers' mouths blackened with gunpowder--creatures
+     to look at and shudder! And into their hands was Paris and its
+     peaceable honest inhabitants threatened to fall. With this I end.
+
+     Ever, my dear Dickens,
+
+        Cordially and sincerely yours,
+
+              John Poole.
+
+     "I began this on Saturday, and have been writing it, as best as I
+     can, till now, Tuesday, three o'clock. Pray acknowledge the receipt
+     when or if you receive it. This is a general letter to you all. If
+     Forster thinks any paragraph of this worthy the _Examiner_, he may
+     use it. Why does not the rogue write to me? Has he, or can he have,
+     taken huff at anything? though I cannot imagine why or at what. But
+     _nobody_ writes to me. I can and will, some day, tell you a comic
+     incident connected with all this, but it would not have been in
+     keeping with the rest of this letter. Paris is now quiet, but very
+     dull."
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 11.
+
+    "_All round the house is the jet black night;
+      It stares through the window-pane;
+    It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light,
+      And it moves with the moving flame._
+
+    _Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum,
+      With the breath of the Bogie in my hair;
+    And all round the candle the crooked shadows come
+      And go marching along up the stair._
+
+    _The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp,
+      The shadow of the child that goes to bed--
+    All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, tramp,
+      With the black night overhead._"
+              --R. L. Stevenson.
+
+
+On the beautiful rocks of Red Head, near Arbroath, and surrounded by
+the glamour of Sir Walter Scott's "Antiquary," which was written in
+the alongside village of Auchmithie, and the plot and incidents of
+which are principally placed here, stands Ethie Castle, the Scotch
+home of the Earls of Northesk, and once one of the many residences of
+Cardinal Beaton, whose portrait by Titian hangs in the hall.
+
+Many of the quaint old rooms have secret staircases at the bed-heads
+leading to rooms above or below, and forming convenient modes of
+escape if the occupants of the middle chambers were threatened with
+sudden attack. There are also some dungeon-like rooms below, with
+walls of vast thickness, and "squints" through which to fire arrows
+or musket-balls. The castle has been greatly improved and partly
+restored by its last owner, without removing or destroying any of its
+characteristic points.
+
+Searching, when a guest there some years ago, amongst the literary and
+other curious remains, which add a great charm to this most interesting
+house, the writer was impressed with the following characteristic
+letter from Charles II. to the then Lord Northesk, which he was
+permitted to copy, and now to print. The letter is curious, as showing
+the evident belief that the King held in his Divine right to interfere
+with his subjects' affairs.
+
+It is a holograph, beautifully written in a small clear hand --- not
+unlike that of W. M. Thackeray --- and has been fastened with a seal,
+still unbroken, no larger than a pea, but which nevertheless contains
+the crown and complete royal arms, and is a most beautiful specimen
+of seal-engraving. It would be interesting to know if this seal still
+exists amongst the curiosities at Windsor Castle:---
+
+            Whitehall, _20 Nov. 1672_.
+
+     "My Lord Northesk,
+
+     I am so much concerned in my L^d Balcarriess that, hearing he
+     is in suite of one of your daughters, I must lett you know, you
+     cannot bestow her upon a person of whose worth and fidelity I
+     have a better esteeme, which moves me hartily to recommend to you
+     and your Lady, your franck compliance with his designe, and as I
+     do realy intend to be very kinde to him, and to do him good as
+     occasion offers, as well for his father's sake as his owne, so if
+     you and your Lady condescend to his pretension, and use him kindly
+     in it, I shall take it very kindly at your hands, and reckon it to
+     be done upon the accounte of
+
+     Your affectionate frinde,
+
+              Charles R."
+
+     _For the_ Earle of Northesk.
+
+
+Looking at the fine portrait of the recipient of this royal request,
+which hangs in the castle, and the stern, unrelenting expression of
+the otherwise handsome face, it is not difficult to presume that he
+somewhat resented this interference with his domestic plans. No copy of
+Lord Northesk's reply exists, but its contents may be guessed by the
+second letter from Whitehall, this time written by Lord Lauderdale:--
+
+            Whitehall, _18 Jany. 1673_.
+
+     "My Lord,
+
+     Yesterday I received yours of the 7th instant, and, according to
+     your desire, I acquainted the King with it. His Majesty commanded
+     me to signify to you that he is satisfied. For as he did recommend
+     that marriage, supposing that it was acceptable to both parties,
+     so he did not intend to lay any constraint upon you. Therfor he
+     leaves you to dispose of your daughter as you please. This is by
+     His Majesty's command signified to your Lordship by,
+
+        My Lord,
+
+     Your Lordship's most humble servant,
+
+              Lauderdale."
+
+     Earl Northesk.
+
+As, however, the marriage eventually did take place, let us hope that
+the young couple arranged it themselves, without any further expression
+of Royal wishes by the evidently well-meaning, if somewhat imperative,
+King.
+
+Ethie has, of course, its family legends and ghosts--what old Scotch
+house is without them?--but the following, which I am most kindly
+permitted to repeat, is so curious in its modern confirmation, that it
+is well worth adding to the store of such weird narratives.
+
+Many years ago, it is said that a lady in the castle destroyed her
+young child in one of the rooms, which afterwards bore the stigma of
+the association. Eventually the room was closed, the door screwed up,
+and heavy wooden shutters were fastened outside the windows. But those
+who occupied the rooms above and below this gruesome chamber would
+often hear, in the watches of the night, the pattering of little feet
+over the floor, and the sound of the little wheels of a child's cart
+being dragged to and fro; a peculiarity connected with this sound
+being, that one wheel creaked and chirruped as it moved. Years rolled
+by, and the room continued to bear its sinister character until the
+late Lord Northesk succeeded to the property, when he very wisely
+determined to bring, if possible, the legend to an end, and probe the
+ghostly story to its truthful or fictitious base.
+
+Consequently he had the outside window shutters removed, and the
+heavy wall-door unscrewed, and then, with some members of his family
+present, ordered the door to be forced back. When the room was open
+and birds began to sing, it proved to be quite destitute of furniture
+or ornament. It had a bare hearth-stone, on which some grey ashes still
+rested, and by the side of the hearth was a child's little wooden
+go-cart on four solid wooden wheels!
+
+Turning to his daughter, my lord asked her to wheel the little carriage
+across the floor of the room. When she did so, it was with a strange
+sense of something uncanny that the listeners heard one wheel creak and
+chirrup as it ran!
+
+Since then the baby footsteps have ceased, and the room is once more
+devoted to ordinary uses, but the ghostly little go-cart still rests at
+Ethie for the curious to see and to handle. Many friends and neighbours
+yet live who testify to having heard the patter of the feet and the
+creak of the little wheel in former days, when the room was a haunted
+reality, but now the
+
+    "Little feet no more go lightly,
+                      Vision broken!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 12
+
+                                    "_I work on,
+    Through all the bristling fence of nights and days,
+    Which hedge time in from the eternities._"
+              --Mrs. Browning.
+
+
+The late Cardinal Manning always felt a great interest in our parish of
+Brasted. In former times it formed part of Hever Chase, the property
+of Sir Thomas Boleyn (the father of Queen Anne Boleyn), who lived at
+Hever Castle, about four miles from Brasted, a fine Tudor specimen of
+domestic architecture, which is now somewhat jealously shown to the
+public on certain days. Hever Castle is the original of Bovor Castle,
+immortalised by Mr. Burnand in his wonderful "Happy Thoughts."
+
+The Cardinal's father, who was at one time an opulent city merchant,
+and sometime Governor of the Bank of England, owned the estate of
+Combe Bank, formerly the English location of the Argyll family, whose
+Duke sat in the House of Lords, until quite a recent date, as Baron
+Sundridge, the name of the adjacent village.
+
+In Sundridge Church are some family busts of the Argylls by Mrs. Dawson
+Damer, who stayed much at Combe Bank, and who lies buried with all her
+graving and sculpting tools in Sundridge churchyard.
+
+The Cardinal and his elder brother, Charles Manning, passed some
+youthful years in this house, and when financial trouble overtook
+their father, and he was obliged to part with the property, it became
+the ever-present desire and day-dream of the elder son to succeed in
+life and repurchase the place. He succeeded well in life, and enjoyed a
+very long and happy one; but he never became the owner of Combe Bank,
+the hope to do so only fading with his life.
+
+He owned, or leased, a pleasant old house at Littlehampton; and if
+his brother, the Cardinal, was in need of rest, he would lend it to
+him, when the Cardinal's method of relaxation was to go to bed in a
+sea-looking room, and, with window open, read, write, and contemplate
+for some three or four days and nights, and then arise refreshed like a
+giant, and return to the manifold duties waiting for him in town.
+
+The Cardinal's home in London was formerly the Guard's Institute in
+the Vauxhall Bridge Road, which, failing in its first intention, was
+purchased as the palace for the then newly-elected Cardinal-Archbishop
+of Westminster. It proved to be rather a dreary, draughty,
+uncomfortable abode, but having the advantage of a double staircase and
+some large reception rooms, was useful for the clerical assemblies he
+used to invoke.
+
+I had the privilege, without being a member of his church, of being
+allowed to attend the meetings of the _Academia_ which the Cardinal
+held every now and then during the London season. His friends would
+gather in one of the big rooms a little before eight in the evening,
+and sit in darkened circles around a small centre table, before which
+a high-backed carved chair stood. The entire light for the apartment
+proceeded from two big silver candlesticks on the table. As the clock
+chimed eight, the Cardinal, clothed in crimson cassock and skull-cap,
+would glide into the room, and standing before the episcopal chair,
+murmur a short Latin prayer, after which the discussion of the evening
+would begin; when all that wished had had their little say, the
+Cardinal replied to the points raised by the various speakers, and
+closed the debate; after which he held a sort of informal reception,
+welcoming individually every guest.
+
+No one but a Rembrandt could give the beautiful effect of the
+half-lights and heavy black shadows of this striking gathering, with
+its centre of colour and light in the tall red figure of the Cardinal,
+his noble face and picturesque dress forming a mind-picture which can
+never fade from the memory. The strong theatrical effect, combined
+with the real simplicity of the scene, the personal interest of many of
+those who took part in the discussion, the associations with the past,
+the speculation whither the innovation of the installation of a Roman
+Catholic Archbishop in Westminster was tending, giving the observer
+bountiful food for much solemn thought.
+
+Upon our book-shelves repose four volumes of the Cardinal's sermons,
+preached when a member of the Church of England, and Archdeacon of
+Chichester. They were bought at Bishop Wilberforce's sale, who was
+the Cardinal's brother-in-law, and contain the autograph of William
+Wilberforce, the bishop's eldest brother. Upon the same shelf will
+be found a copy of "Parochial Sermons" by John Henry Newman, Vicar
+of St. Mary the Virgin's, Oxford. This volume formerly belonged to
+Bishop Stanley, and came from the library of his celebrated son, Arthur
+Penrhyn Stanley, sometime Dean of Westminster.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A good book might be written by one who is duly qualified on "the Poets
+who are not read." It would not be flattering to the ghosts of many
+of the departed great, but there is so much assumption on the part of
+the general reader, that he knows them all, has read them all, and
+generally likes them all, which if examined into closely would prove
+a snare and a delusion, that one is tempted to administer some gentle
+interrogatories upon the subject. First and foremost, then, who now
+reads Byron? His works rest on the shelves, it is true, but are they
+ever opened, except to verify a quotation? Does the general reader
+of this time steadily go through "Childe Harold," "Don Juan," and
+his other splendid works. Not death but sleep prevails, from which
+perchance one day he may awake and again enjoy his share of fame and
+favour. It is the fashion with many persons to express the utmost
+sympathy with and acute knowledge of the work of Robert Browning, but
+we doubt if many of these could pass a Civil Service examination in the
+very poems they name so glibly. He is so hard to understand without
+time and close study, that few have the inclination to give either in
+these days of pressure, worry, and rush.
+
+Upon neglected shelves Cowper and Crabbe lie dusty and unopened--the
+only person who read Crabbe in these days was the late Edward
+FitzGerald; and it is a small class apart that still looks up to
+Wordsworth. The stars of Keats and Shelley, it is true, are just now in
+the ascendant, and may so remain for a little while.
+
+It is difficult and dangerous, we are told, to prophesy unless we know,
+but our private opinion is that Lord Tennyson's fame has been declining
+since his death, and that a large portion of his poems and all his
+plays will die, leaving a living residuum of such splendid work as
+"Maud," "In Memoriam," and some of his short poems.
+
+America has furnished us with Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, whose charm
+and finish is likely to continue its hold upon our imagination;
+then there is the Quaker poet Whittier, who will probably only live
+in a song or two; and Longfellow, whose popularity has a long time
+since declined. He once wrote a sort of novel or romance called
+"Hyperion," which showed his reading public for the first time that he
+was possessed of a gentle humour, which does not often appear in his
+poems. For instance, one of his characters, by name Berkley, wishing to
+console a jilted lover, says--
+
+"'I was once as desperately in love as you are now; I adored, and was
+rejected.'
+
+"'You are in love with certain attributes,' said the lady.
+
+"'Damn your attributes, madam,' said I; 'I know nothing of attributes.'
+
+"'Sir,' said she, with dignity, 'you have been drinking.'
+
+"So we parted. She was married afterwards to another, who knew
+something about attributes, I suppose. I have seen her once since, and
+only once. She had a baby in a yellow gown. I hate a baby in a yellow
+gown. How glad I am she did not marry me."
+
+The fate of most poets is to be cut up for Dictionaries of Quotations,
+for which amiable purpose they are often admirably adapted.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 13.
+
+    _"She will return, I know she will,
+    She will not leave me here alone._"
+
+
+Staying many years ago in a pleasant country-house, whilst walking home
+after evening church my host remarked, as we passed in the growing
+darkness a house from which streamed a light down the path from the
+front door, "Ah! Jane has not yet returned." The phrase sounded odd,
+and when we were snugly ensconced in the smoking-room, he that evening
+told me the following story, which, however, then stopped midway, but
+to which I am now able to add the sequel.
+
+A certain John Manson (the name is, of course, fictitious), an elderly
+wealthy City bachelor, married late in life a young girl of great
+beauty, and with no friends or relations.
+
+She found her husband's country home, in which she was necessarily much
+alone, very dull, and she thought that he was hard and unsympathising
+when he was at home; whereas, although a curt, reserved manner gave
+this impression, he was really full of love for, and confidence in his
+young wife, and inwardly chafed at and deplored his want of power to
+show what his real feelings were.
+
+The misunderstanding between them grew and widened, like the poetical
+"rift within the lute," and soon after the birth of her child, a girl,
+she left her home with her baby, merely leaving a few lines of curt
+farewell, and was henceforth lost to him. His belief in her honesty
+never wavered; and night after night, with his own hand, he lighted and
+placed in a certain hall-window a lamp which thus illuminated the path
+to the door, saying, "Jane will return, poor dear; and it's sure to be
+at night, and she'll like to see the light."
+
+Years passed by, and Jane made no sign, the light each evening shining
+uselessly; and still a stranger to her home, she died, leaving her
+daughter, now a beautiful girl of twenty, and marvellously like what
+her mother was when she married.
+
+The husband, unaware of the death of his wife, himself came to lay
+him for the last beneath his own roof-tree, and still his one cry
+was, "Jane will return." It seemed as if he could not pass in peace
+from this world's rack until it was accomplished--when, lo! a miracle
+came to pass; for the daughter arrived one evening with a letter from
+her mother, written when she was dying, and asking her husband's
+forgiveness, and the light still beamed from the beacon window.
+
+The old man was only semi-conscious, and mistaking his child for her
+mother, with a strong voice cried out, "I knew you'd come back," and
+died in the moment of the joy of her supposed return.
+
+By a curious coincidence, since writing this true story, which was
+told to me in 1865, some of the incidents, in an altered form, have
+found a place in Mr. Ian Maclaren's popular book, "Beside the Bonnie
+Brier Bush." It would be interesting to know from whence he drew his
+inspiration, and whether his story should perchance trace back to a
+common ancestor in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few years ago Mr. Walter Hamilton published, in six volumes, the most
+complete collection of English parodies ever brought together. Amongst
+others, he gave a vast number upon the well-known poem by Charles Wolfe
+of "Not a drum was heard." Page after page is covered with them, upon
+every possible subject; but the following one, written by an "American
+cousin" many years ago, and which was not accessible to Mr. Hamilton,
+is perhaps worth repeating and preserving. He called it "The Mosquito
+Hunt," and it runs as follows, if my memory serves me faithfully, I
+having no written note of it:--
+
+    "Not a sound was heard, but a horrible hum,
+      As around our chamber we hurried,
+    In search of the insect whose trumpet and drum
+      Our delectable slumber had worried.
+
+    We sought for him darkly at dead of night,
+      Our coverlet carefully turning,
+    By the shine of the moonbeam's misty light,
+      And our candle dimly burning.
+
+    About an hour had seemed to elapse,
+      Ere we met with the wretch that had bit us;
+    And raising our shoe, gave some terrible slaps,
+      Which made the mosquito's quietus.
+
+    Quickly and gladly we turned from the dead,
+      And left him all smash'd and gory;
+    We blew out the candle, and popped into bed,
+      And determined to tell you the story!"
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 14.
+
+    "_The welcome news is in the letter found,
+    The carrier's not commissioned to expound:
+    It speaks itself._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+A pleasant hour may perhaps be passed in searching through the
+family autograph-box in the book-room. Its contents are varied and
+far-fetched. A capital series of letters from that best and most genial
+of correspondents, James Payn, are there to puzzle, by their very
+difficult calligraphy, the would-be reader. Mr. Payn, a dear friend
+to Foxwold, is now a great invalid, and a brave sufferer, keeping,
+despite his pain, the same bright spirit, the same brilliant wit,
+and delighting with the same enchanting conversation. Out of all his
+work, there is nothing so beautiful as his lay-sermons, published in
+a small volume called "Some Private Views;" and but a little while
+since he wrote, on his invalid couch, a most affecting study, called
+"The Backwater of Life;" it has only up to the present time appeared
+in the _Cornhill Magazine_, but will doubtless be soon collected with
+other work in a more permanent form. It is a pathetic picture of how
+suffering may be relieved by wit, wisdom, and courage.
+
+As Mr. Leslie Stephen well says in his brother's life, "For such
+literature the British public has shown a considerable avidity ever
+since the days of Addison. In spite of occasional disavowals, it
+really loves a sermon, and is glad to hear preachers who are not bound
+by the proprieties of the religious pulpit. Some essayists, like
+Johnson, have been as solemn as the true clerical performer, and some
+have diverged into the humorous with Charles Lamb, or the cynical with
+Hazlitt."[2]
+
+In Mr. Payn's lay-sermons we have the humour and the pathos, the tears
+being very close to the laughter; and they reflect in a peculiarly
+strong manner the tender wit and delicate fancy of their author.
+
+But to return to our autograph-box. Here we find letters from such
+varied authors as Josef Israels, the Dutch painter, Hubert Herkomer, W.
+B. Richmond, Mrs. Carlyle, Wilkie Collins, Dean Stanley, and a host of
+other interesting people. Perhaps a few extracts, where judicious and
+inoffensive, may give an interest to this especial chat.
+
+The late Mrs. Charles Fox of Trebah was in herself, both socially and
+intellectually, a very remarkable woman. Born in the Lake Country, and
+belonging to the Society of Friends, she formed, as a girl, many happy
+friendships with the Wordsworths, the Southeys, the Coleridges, and
+all that charmed circle of intellect, every scrap of whose sayings and
+doings are so full of interest, and so dearly cherished.
+
+These friendships she continued to preserve after her marriage, and
+when she had exchanged her lovely lake home for an equally beautiful
+and interesting one on the Cornish coast, first at Perran and
+afterwards at Trebah.
+
+One of her special friendships was with Hartley Coleridge, who indited
+several of his sonnets to his beautiful young friend.
+
+The subjoined letter gives a pleasant picture of his friendly
+correspondence, and has not been included in the published papers by
+his brother, the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, who edited his remains.
+
+  "Dear Sarah,
+
+            If a stranger to the fold
+    Of happy innocents, where thou art one,
+    May so address thee by a name he loves,
+    Both for a mother's and a sister's sake,
+    And surely loves it not the less for thine.
+    Dear Sarah, strange it needs must seem to thee
+    That I should choose the quaint disguise of verse,
+    And, like a mimic masquer, come before thee
+    To tell my simple tale of country news,
+    Or,--sooth to tell thee,--I have nought to tell
+    But what a most intelligencing gossip
+    Would hardly mention on her morning rounds:
+    Things that a newspaper would not record
+    In the dead-blank recess of Parliament.
+    Yet so it is,--my thoughts are so confused,
+    My memory is so wild a wilderness,
+    I need the order of the measured line
+    To help me, whensoe'er I would attempt
+    To methodise the random notices
+    Of purblind observation. Easier far
+    The minuet step of slippery sliding verse,
+    Than the strong stately walk of steadfast prose.
+
+        Since you have left us, many a beauteous change
+    Hath Nature wrought on the eternal hills;
+    And not an hour hath past that hath not done
+    Its work of beauty. When December winds,
+    Hungry and fell, were chasing the dry leaves,
+    Shrill o'er the valley at the dead of night,
+    'Twas sweet, for watchers such as I, to mark
+    How bright, how very bright, the stars would shine
+    Through the deep rifts of congregated clouds;
+    How very distant seemed the azure sky;
+    And when at morn the lazy, weeping fog,
+    Long lingering, loath to leave the slumbrous lake,
+    Whitened, diffusive, as the rising sun
+    Shed on the western hills his rosiest beams,
+    I thought of thee, and thought our peaceful vale
+    Had lost one heart that could have felt its peace,
+    One eye that saw its beauties, and one soul
+    That made its peace and beauty all her own.
+
+        One morn there was a kindly boon of heaven,
+    That made the leafless woods so beautiful,
+    It was sore pity that one spirit lives,
+    That owns the presence of Eternal God
+    In all the world of Nature and of Mind,
+    Who did not see it. Low the vapour hung
+    On the flat fields, and streak'd with level layers
+    The lower regions of the mountainous round;
+    But every summit, and the lovely line
+    Of mountain tops, stood in the pale blue sky
+    Boldly defined. The cloudless sun dispelled
+    The hazy masses, and a lucid veil
+    But softened every charm it not concealed.
+    Then every tree that climbs the steep fell-side--
+    Young oak, yet laden with sere foliage;
+    Larch, springing upwards, with its spikey top
+    And spiney garb of horizontal boughs;
+    The veteran ash, strong-knotted, wreathed and twined,
+    As if some Daemon dwelt within its trunk,
+    And shot forth branches, serpent-like; uprear'd
+    The holly and the yew, that never fade
+    And never smile; these, and whate'er beside,
+    Or stubborn stump, or thin-arm'd underwood,
+    Clothe the bleak strong girth of Silverhow
+    (You know the place, and every stream and brook
+    Is known to you) by ministry of Frost,
+    Were turned to shapes of Orient adamant,
+    As if the whitest crystals, new endow'd
+    With vital or with vegetative power,
+    Had burst from earth, to mimic every form
+    Of curious beauty that the earth could boast,
+    Or, like a tossing sea of curly plumes,
+    Frozen in an instant----"
+
+     "So much for verse, which, being execrably bad, cannot be excused,
+     except by friendship, therefore is the fitter for a friendly
+     epistle. There's logic for you! In fact, my dear lady, I am so
+     much delighted, not to say flattered, by your wish that I should
+     write to you, that I can't help being rather silly. It will be
+     a sad loss to me when your excellent mother leaves Grasmere;
+     and to-morrow my friend Archer and I dine at Dale End, for our
+     farewell. But so it must be. I am always happy to hear anything of
+     your little ones, who are such very sweet creatures that one might
+     almost think it a pity they should ever grow up to be big women,
+     and know only better than they do now. Among all the anecdotes
+     of childhood that have been recorded, I never heard of one so
+     characteristic as Jenny-Kitty's wish to inform Lord Dunstanville
+     of the miseries of the negroes. Bless its little soul! I am truly
+     sorry to hear that you have been suffering bodily illness, though
+     I know that it cannot disturb the serenity of your mind. I hope
+     little Derwent did not disturb you with his crown; I am told he is
+     a lovely little wretch, and you say he has eyes like mine. I hope
+     he will see his way better with them. Derwent has never answered
+     my letter, but I complain not; I dare say he has more than enough
+     to do.[3] Thank you kindly for your kindness to him and his lady.
+     I hope the friendship of Friends will not obstruct his rising in
+     the Church, and that he will consult his own interest prudently,
+     paying court to the powers that be, yet never so far committing
+     himself as to miss an opportunity of ingratiating himself with
+     the powers that may be. Let him not utter, far less write, any
+     sentence that will not bear a twofold interpretation! For the
+     present let his liberality go no further than a very liberal
+     explanation of the words consistency and gratitude may carry
+     him; let him always be honest when it is his interest to be so,
+     and sometimes when it may appear not to be so; and never be a
+     knave under a deanery or a rectory of five thousand a year! My
+     best remembrances to your husband, and kisses for Juliet and
+     Jenny-Kitty, though she did say she liked Mr. Barber far better
+     than me. I can't say I agree with her in that particular, having a
+     weak partiality for
+
+     Your affectionate friend,
+              Hartley Coleridge."
+
+Another friend of the Fox family was the late John Bright, and the
+following letter to the now well-known Caroline Fox of Penjerrick will
+be read with interest:--
+
+            Torquay, 10 _mo._ 13, 1868.
+
+     "My dear Friend,
+
+     I hope the 'one cloud' has passed away. I was much pleased with
+     the earnestness and feeling of the poem, and wished to ask thee
+     for a copy of it, but was afraid to give thee the trouble of
+     writing it out for me.
+
+     "For myself, I have endeavoured only to speak when I have had
+     something to say which it seemed to me ought to be said, and I did
+     not feel that the sentiment of the poem condemned me.
+
+     "We had a pleasant visit to Kynance Cove. It is a charming
+     place, and we were delighted with it. We went on through Helston
+     to Penzance: the day following we visited the Logan Rock and the
+     Land's End, and in the afternoon the celebrated Mount--the weather
+     all we could wish for. We were greatly pleased with the Mount,
+     and I shall not read 'Lycidas' with less interest now that I have
+     seen the place of the 'great vision.' We found the hotel to which
+     you kindly directed us perfect in all respects. On Friday we came
+     from Penzance to Truro, and posted to St. Columb, where we spent a
+     night at Mr. Northy's--the day and night were very wet. Next day
+     we posted to Tintagel, and back to Launceston, taking the train
+     there for Torquay.
+
+     "We were pressed for time at Tintagel, but were pleased with what
+     we saw.
+
+     "Here, we are in a land of beauty and of summer, the beauty beyond
+     my expectation, and the climate like that of Nice. Yesterday we
+     drove round to see the sights, and W. Pengelly and Mr. Vivian
+     went with us to Kent's Cavern, Anstey's Cove, and the round of
+     exquisite views. We are at Cash's Hotel, but visit our friend
+     Susan Midgley in the day and evening. To-morrow we start for
+     Street, to stay a day or two with my daughter Helen, and are to
+     spend Sunday at Bath. We have seen much and enjoyed much in our
+     excursion, but we shall remember nothing with more pleasure than
+     your kindness and our stay at Penjerrick.
+
+     "Elizabeth joins me in kind and affectionate remembrance of you,
+     and in the hope that thy dear father did not suffer from the 'long
+     hours' to which my talk subjected him. When we get back to our
+     bleak region and home of cold and smoke, we shall often think of
+     your pleasant retreat, and of the wonderful gardens at Penjerrick.
+
+     Believe me,
+
+         Always sincerely thy friend,
+              John Bright."
+
+     _To_ Caroline Fox,
+     Penjerrick, Falmouth.
+
+There are few men whose every uttered word is regarded with greater
+respect and interest than Mr. Ruskin. It is well known that he has
+always been a wide and careful collector of minerals, gems, and fine
+specimens of the art and nature world. One of his various agents,
+through whom at one time he made many such purchases, both for himself
+and his Oxford and Sheffield museums, was Mr. Bryce Wright, the
+mineralogist, and to him are addressed the following five letters:--
+
+              Brantwood, Coniston, Lancashire,
+                  _22nd May '81_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very greatly obliged to you for letting me see these opals,
+     quite unexampled, as you rightly say, from that locality--but
+     from that locality _I_ never buy--my kind is the opal formed in
+     pores and cavities, throughout the mass of that compact brown
+     jasper--this, which is merely a superficial crust of jelly on the
+     surface of a nasty brown sandstone, I do not myself value in the
+     least. I wish you could get at some of the geology of the two
+     sorts, but I suppose everything is kept close by the diggers and
+     the Jews at present.
+
+     "As for the cameos, the best of the two, 'supposed' (by whom?) to
+     represent Isis, represents neither Egyptian nor Oxonian Isis, but
+     only an ill-made French woman of the town bathing at Boulogne, and
+     the other is only a 'Minerve' of the Halles, a _petroleuse_ in a
+     mob-cap, sulphur-fire colour.
+
+     "I don't depreciate what I want to buy, as you know well, but it
+     is not safe to send me things in the set way 'supposed' to be
+     this or that! If you ever get any more nice little cranes, or
+     cockatoos, looking like what they're supposed to be meant for,
+     they shall at least be returned with compliments.
+
+     "I send back the box by to-day's rail; put down all expenses to my
+     account, as I am always amused and interested by a parcel from you.
+
+     "You needn't print this letter as an advertisement, unless you
+     like!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _23rd May_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     The silver's safe here, and I want to buy it for Sheffield, but
+     the price seems to me awful. It must always be attached to it
+     at the museum, and I fear great displeasure from the public for
+     giving you such a price. What is there in the specimen to make it
+     so valuable? I have not anything like it, nor do I recollect its
+     like (or I shouldn't want it), but if so rare, why does not the
+     British Museum take it.
+
+     Ever truly yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood, _Wednesday_.
+
+     "My dear Wright,
+
+     I am very glad of your long and interesting letter, and can
+     perfectly understand all your difficulties, and have always
+     observed your activity and attention to your business with much
+     sympathy, but of late certainly I have been frightened at your
+     prices, and, before I saw the golds, was rather uneasy at having
+     so soon to pay for them. But you are quite right in your estimate
+     of the interest and value of the collection, and I hope to be
+     able to be of considerable service to you yet, though I fear it
+     cannot be in buying specimens at seventy guineas, unless there is
+     something to be shown for the money, like that great native silver!
+
+     "I have really not been able to examine the red ones yet--the
+     golds alone were more than I could judge of till I got a quiet
+     hour this morning. I might possibly offer to change some of the
+     locally interesting ones for a proustite, but I can't afford any
+     more cash just now.
+
+     Ever very heartily yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Brantwood,
+      _3rd Nov. or 4th (?), Friday_.
+
+     "Dear Wright,
+
+     My telegram will, I hope, enable you to act with promptness about
+     the golds, which will be of extreme value to me; and its short
+     saying about the proustites will, I hope, not be construed by you
+     as meaning that I will buy them also. You don't really suppose
+     that you are to be paid interest of money on minerals, merely
+     because they have lain long in your hands.
+
+     "If I sold my old arm-chair, which has got the rickets, would
+     you expect the purchaser to pay me forty years' interest on the
+     original price? Your proustite may perhaps be as good as ever
+     it was, but it is not worth more to me or Sheffield because you
+     have had either the enjoyment or the care of it longer than you
+     expected!
+
+     "But I am really very seriously obliged by the _sight_ of it, with
+     the others, and perhaps may make an effort to lump some of the new
+     ones with the gold in an estimate of large purchase. I think the
+     gold, by your description, must be a great credit to Sheffield and
+     to me; perhaps I mayn't be able to part with it!
+
+     Ever faithfully yours,
+
+              J. Ruskin."
+            Herne Hill, S.E., _6 May '84_.
+
+     "My dear Bryce,
+
+     I can't resist this tourmaline, and have carried it off with me.
+     For you and Regent Street it's not monstrous in price neither; but
+     I must send you back your (pink!) apatite. I wish I'd come to see
+     you, but have been laid up all the time I've been here--just got
+     to the pictures, and that's all.
+
+     Yours always,
+
+       (much to my damage!)
+
+              J. R."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[2] "Life of Sir T. FitzJames Stephen," by his Brother, Leslie Stephen.
+Smith, Elder & Co., 1895.
+
+[3] The Rev. Derwent Coleridge was at the time keeping a school at
+Helston, which was within an easy distance of Perran, where Mrs. Fox
+was at this time living.
+
+
+
+
+Chat No. 15.
+
+    "_Scarcely she knew, that she was great or fair,
+    Or wise beyond what other women are._"
+              --Dryden.
+
+
+An oval picture that hangs opposite Sheridan's portrait is a fine
+presentment of the Marquis de Segur, by Vanloo.
+
+The Marquis was born in 1724, and eventually became a marshal of
+France, and minister of war to Louis XVI. After his royal master's
+execution he fell into very low water, and it was only by his calm
+intrepidity in very trying circumstances that he escaped the
+guillotine. His memoirs have from time to time appeared, generally
+under the authority of some of his descendants. This interesting
+portrait belonged to the family of de Segur, and was parted with by the
+present head of the house to the late Mrs. Lyne Stephens, who gave it
+to us.
+
+The history of this admirable woman is deeply interesting in every
+detail. She was the daughter of Colonel Duvernay, a member of a good
+old French family, who was ruined by the French Revolution of 1785.
+Born at Versailles in the year 1812, her father had the child named
+Yolande Marie Louise; and she was educated at the Conservatoire in
+Paris, where they soon discovered her wonderful talent for dancing.
+This art was encouraged, developed, and trained to the uttermost; and
+when, in due time, she appeared upon the ballet stage, she took the
+town by storm, and at once came to the foremost rank as the well-known
+Mademoiselle Duvernay, rivalling, if not excelling, the two Ellsslers,
+Cerito, and Taglioni.
+
+She made wide the fame of the Cachucha dance, which was specially
+rearranged for her; and the world was immediately deluged with her
+portraits, some good, some bad, many very apocryphal, and many very
+indifferent.
+
+In one of W. M. Thackeray's wonderful "Roundabout Papers," which
+perhaps contain some of the most beautiful work he ever gave us, he
+thus recalls, in a semi-playful, semi-pathetic tone, his recollections
+of the great _danseuse_. "In William IV.'s time, when I think of
+Duvernay dancing in as the Bayadere, I say it was a vision of
+loveliness such as mortal eyes can't see nowadays. How well I remember
+the tune to which she used to appear! Kaled used to say to the Sultan,
+'My lord, a troop of those dancing and singing girls called Bayaderes
+approaches,' and to the clash of cymbals and the thumping of my heart,
+in she used to dance! There has never been anything like it--never."
+
+After a few years of brilliant successes she retired from the stage
+she had done so much to grace and dignify, and married the late Mr.
+Stephens Lyne Stephens, who in those days, and after his good old
+father's death, was considered one of the richest commoners in England.
+
+He died in 1860, after a far too short, but intensely happy, married
+life; and having no children, left his widow, as far as was in his
+power, complete mistress of his large fortune. They were both devoted
+to art, and being very acute connoisseurs, had collected a superb
+quantity of the best pictures, the rarest old French furniture, and the
+finest china.
+
+The bulk of these remarkable collections was dispersed at Christie's
+in a nine-days'-wonder sale in 1895, and proved the great attraction
+of the season, buyers from Paris, New York, Vienna, and Berlin eagerly
+competing with London for the best things.
+
+Some of the more remarkable prices are here noted, as being of
+permanent interest to the art-loving world, and testifying how little
+hard times can affect the sale of a really fine and genuine collection.
+
+As a rule, the prices obtained were very far in excess of those paid
+for the various objects, in many cases reaching four and five times
+their original cost.
+
+A pair of Mandarin vases sold for 1070 guineas. The beautiful Sevres
+oviform vase, given by Louis XV. to the Marquis de Montcalm, 1900
+guineas. A pair of Sevres blue and gold Jardinieres, 5-1/4 inches high,
+1900 guineas. A clock by Berthoud, 1000 guineas. A small upright Louis
+XVI. secretaire, 800 guineas. Another rather like it, 960 guineas. A
+marble bust of Louis XIV., 567 guineas. Three Sevres oviform vases,
+from Lord Pembroke's collection, 5000 guineas. A single oviform
+Sevres vase, 760 guineas. A pair of Sevres vases, 1050 guineas. A
+very beautiful Sedan chair, in Italian work of the sixteenth century,
+600 guineas. A clock by Causard, 720 guineas. A Louis XV. upright
+secretaire, 1320 guineas. "Dogs and Gamekeeper," painted by Troyon,
+2850 guineas. "The Infanta," a full-length portrait by Velasquez, 4300
+guineas. A bust of the Infanta, also by Velasquez, 770 guineas. "Faith
+presenting the Eucharist," a splendid work by Murillo, 2350 guineas.
+"The Prince of Orange Hunting," by Cuyp, 2000 guineas. "The Village
+Inn," by Van Ostade, 1660 guineas. A fine specimen of Terburg's work,
+1950 guineas. A portrait by Madame Vigee le Brun, 2250 guineas.
+A lovely portrait by Nattier, 3900 guineas. Watteau's celebrated
+picture of "La Gamme d'Amour," 3350 guineas. A pair of small Lancret's
+Illustrations to La Fontaine brought respectively 1300 guineas and 1050
+guineas. Drouais' superb portrait of Madame du Barry, 690 guineas; and
+a small head of a girl by Greuze sold for 710 guineas.
+
+Small pieces of china of no remarkable merit, but bearing a greatly
+enhanced value from belonging to this celebrated collection, obtained
+wonderful prices. For example:--
+
+     A Sang-de Boeuf Crackle vase, 12-1/2 inches high, 280 guineas. A
+     pair of china Kylins, 360 guineas. A circular Pesaro dish, 155
+     guineas. A pair of Sevres dark blue oviform vases, 1000 guineas.
+     Three Sevres vases, 1520 guineas. Two small panels of old French
+     tapestry, 285 guineas. Another pair, 710 guineas. A circular
+     Sevres bowl, 13 inches in diameter, 300 guineas.
+
+The ormolu ornaments of the time of Louis XIV. brought great sums; for
+instance--
+
+     An ormolu inkstand sold for 72 guineas. A pair of wall lights, 102
+     guineas. A pair of ormolu candlesticks, 400 guineas. Another pair,
+     500 guineas. A pair of ormolu andirons, 220 guineas.
+
+Little tables of Louis XV. period also sold amazingly.
+
+     An oblong one, 21-1/2 inches wide, 285 guineas. An upright
+     secretaire, 580 guineas. A small Louis XVI. chest of drawers, 315
+     guineas. A pair of Louis XVI. mahogany cabinets, 950 guineas. A
+     pair of Louis XVI. bronze candelabra brought 525 guineas; and an
+     ebony cabinet of the same time fetched the extraordinary price of
+     1700 guineas; and a little Louis XV. gold chatelaine sold for 300
+     guineas.
+
+The grand total obtained by this remarkable sale, together with some of
+the plate and jewels, amounted to L158,000!
+
+For thirty-four years, as a widow, Mrs. Lyne Stephens administered,
+with the utmost wisdom and the broadest generosity, the large trust
+thus placed in her most capable hands. Building and restoring churches
+for both creeds (she being Catholic and her late husband Protestant);
+endowing needy young couples whom she considered had some claim upon
+her, if only as friends; further adding to and completing her art
+collections, and finishing and beautifying her different homes in
+Norfolk, Paris, and Roehampton.
+
+Generous to the fullest degree, she would warmly resent the least
+attempt to impose upon her. An amusing instance of this occurred many
+years ago, when one of her husband's relations, considering he had
+some extraordinary claim upon the widow's generosity, again and again
+pressed her for large benevolences, which for a season he obtained.
+Getting tired of his importunity, she at last declined to render
+further help, and received in reply a very abusive letter from the
+claimant, which wound up by stating that if the desired assistance
+were not forthcoming by a certain date, the applicant would set up
+a fruit-stall in front of her then town-house in Piccadilly, and so
+shame her into compliance with his request. She immediately wrote him
+a pretty little letter in reply, saying, "That it was with sincere
+pleasure she had heard of her correspondent's intention of pursuing for
+the first time an honest calling whereby to earn his bread, and that if
+his oranges were good, she had given orders that they should be bought
+for her servants' hall!"
+
+During the Franco-German war of 1870 she remained in Paris in her
+beautiful home in the Faubourg-Saint-Honore, and would daily sally
+forth to help the sufferings which the people in Paris were undergoing.
+No one will ever know the vast extent of the sacrifice she then made.
+Her men-servants had all left to fight for their country, and she was
+alone in the big house, with only two or three maids to accompany her.
+During the Commune she continued her daily walks abroad, and was always
+recognised by the mob as a good Frenchwoman, doing her utmost for the
+needs of the very poor. Her friend, the late Sir Richard Wallace, who
+was also in Paris during these troubles, well earned his baronetcy by
+his care of the poor English shut up in the city during the siege; but
+although Mrs. Lyne Stephens' charity was quite as wide and generous as
+his, she never received, nor did she expect or desire it, one word of
+acknowledgment or thanks from any of the powers that were.
+
+She died at Lynford, from the result of a fall on a parquet floor,
+on the 2nd September 1894, aged 82, full of physical vigour and
+intellectual brightness, and still remarkable for her personal beauty;
+finding life to the last full of many interests, but impressed by
+the sadness of having outlived nearly all her early friends and
+contemporaries.
+
+She lingered nearly three weeks after the actual fall, during which her
+affectionate gratitude to all who watched and tended her, her bright
+recognition when faces she loved came near, her quick response to all
+that was said and done, were beautiful and touching to see, and very
+sweet to remember. Her last words to the writer of these lines when
+he bade her farewell were, "My fondest love to my beloved Julian;"
+our invalid son at Foxwold, for whom she always evinced the deepest
+affection and sympathy.
+
+In her funeral sermon, preached by Canon Scott, himself an intimate
+friend, in the beautiful church she had built for Cambridge, to a
+crowded and deeply sympathetic audience, he eloquently observed:
+"Greatly indeed was she indebted to God; richly had she been
+endowed with gifts of every kind; of natural character, of special
+intelligence, of winning attractiveness, which compelled homage from
+all who came under the charm of her influence; with the result of
+widespread renown and unbounded wealth.... Therefore it was that the
+blessing of God came in another form--by the discipline of suffering
+and trial. There was the trial of loneliness. Soon bereft, as she was,
+of her husband, of whose affection we may judge by the way in which
+he had laid all he possessed at her feet; French and Catholic, living
+amongst those who were not of her faith or nation, though enjoying
+their devoted friendship. With advancing years, deprived by death even
+of those intimate friends, she was lonely in a sense throughout her
+life.... Nor must it be omitted that her great gift to Cambridge was
+not merely an easy one out of superfluous wealth, but that it involved
+some personal sacrifice. Friends of late had missed the sight of costly
+jewels, which for years had formed a part of her personal adornment.
+What had become of a necklace of rarest pearls, now no longer
+worn?--They had been sacrificed for the erection of this very church."
+
+Again, in a Pastoral Letter by the Roman Catholic Bishop of
+Northampton to his flock, dated the 28th of November 1894, he says:
+"We take occasion of this our Advent pastoral, to commend to your
+prayers the soul of one who has recently passed away, Mrs. Lyne
+Stephens. Her innumerable works of religion and charity during her
+life, force us to acknowledge our indebtedness to her; she built
+at her sole cost the churches of Lynford, Shefford, and Cambridge,
+and she gave a large donation for the church at Wellingborough. It
+was she who gave the presbytery and the endowment of Lynford, the
+rectory at Cambridge, and our own residence at Northampton. By a large
+donation she greatly helped the new episcopal income fund, and she was
+generous to the Holy Father on the occasion of his first jubilee. Our
+indebtedness was increased by her bequests, one to ourselves as the
+Bishop, one for the maintenance of the fabric of the Cambridge Church,
+another for the Boy's Home at Shefford, and a fourth to the Clergy
+Fund of this Diocese. Her name has been inscribed in our _Liber Vitae_,
+among the great benefactors whether living or dead, and for these we
+constantly offer up prayers that God may bless their good estate in
+life, and after death receive them to their reward."
+
+To the inmates of Foxwold she was for nearly a quarter of a century
+a true and loving friend, paying them frequent little visits, and
+entering with the deepest sympathy into the lives of those who also
+loved her very dearly.
+
+The house bears, through her generosity, many marks of her exquisite
+taste and broad bounty, and her memory will always be fragrant and
+beautiful to those who knew her.
+
+There are three portraits of her at Roehampton. The first, as a most
+winsome, lovely girl, drawn life-size by a great pastellist in the
+reign of Louis Philippe; the second, as a handsome matron, in the happy
+years of her all too short married life; and the last, by Carolus
+Duran, was painted in Paris in 1888. This has been charmingly engraved,
+and represents her as a most lovely old lady, with abundant iron-grey
+hair and large violet eyes, very wide apart. She was intellectually
+as well as physically one of the strongest women, and she never had a
+day's illness, until her fatal accident, in her life. Her conversation
+and power of repartee was extremely clever and brilliant. A shrewd
+observer of character, she rarely made a mistake in her first estimate
+of people, and her sometimes adverse judgments, which at first
+sight appeared harsh, were invariably justified by the history of
+after-events.
+
+Her charity was illimitable, and was always, as far as possible,
+concealed. A simple-lived, brave, warm-hearted, generous woman, her
+death has created a peculiar void, which will not in our time be again
+filled:--
+
+    "For some we loved, the loveliest and the best,
+    That from his Vintage, rolling Time hath prest,
+    Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before,
+    And one by one crept silently to rest."
+
+
+
+
+The Index
+
+    "_Studious he sate, with all his books around,
+    Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound;
+    Plunged for his sense, but found no bottom there;
+    Then wrote, and flounder'd on, in mere despair._"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+  America. Humours of a voyage to, 18.
+
+
+  Baxter, Robert. His hospitality, 53.
+
+  Bedford Town and Schools, 73.
+
+  Binders and their work, 41.
+
+  Bradley, A. G. Life of Wolfe, 10.
+
+  Bright, John. Letter from, 134.
+
+
+  Calverley, C. S., 2.
+
+  Charles II. and Lord Northesk, 101.
+
+  Christie's. A sale at, 11.
+
+  Christie's. Lyne Stephens sale, 148.
+
+  Coleridge, Hartley. Letter from, 129.
+
+  Combe Bank, 109.
+
+  Craze, modern. For work, 48.
+
+  Cunarder. On board a, 18.
+
+  "Cynical Song of the City," 50.
+
+
+  Dickens. On over-work, 48.
+
+  Dobson, Austin, 63.
+
+
+  Ethie Castle and its ghost story, 104.
+
+
+  Fox, Caroline. John Bright's letter to, 134.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, of Trebah, 128.
+
+  Fox, Mrs. Charles, and Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+  Foxwold and its early train, 51.
+
+  French Revolution of 1848, 85.
+
+
+  Gainsborough's portrait of Wolfe, 8.
+
+  Ghost story at Ethie, 104.
+
+  Gosse, Edmund. Poem by, 61.
+
+  Grain, R. Corney. Sketch of, 3.
+
+    "         "     His charity, 4.
+
+    "         "     Letter from, 6.
+
+  Guthrie, Anstey. Bon-mot of, 52.
+
+
+  Hamilton's parodies, 123.
+
+  Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 59.
+
+  Humours of an Atlantic voyage, 18.
+
+
+  "Jane will return." A true story, 119.
+
+  Jerrold, Douglas. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Laureateship, The, 58.
+
+  Lehmann, R. C. Poem by, 78.
+
+  Letter from John Bright, 134.
+
+    "      "  Hartley Coleridge, 129.
+
+    "      "  Charles II., 101.
+
+    "      "  R. Corney Grain, 6.
+
+    "      "  Lord Lauderdale, 102.
+
+  Letter from John Poole, 83.
+
+    "      "  John Ruskin, 137.
+
+    "      "  G. A. Sala, 69.
+
+  Longfellow. Extract from, 117.
+
+  Lyne Stephens, Mrs., 144.
+
+    "      "     Sketch of her life, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her art collections, 147.
+
+    "      "     Thackeray's sketch of her, 145.
+
+    "      "     Her death, 154.
+
+    "      "     Her funeral sermon, 155.
+
+    "      "     Great sale at Christie's, 148.
+
+  Lytton, Robert, Lord. Poem by, 60.
+
+
+  Manning, Cardinal, 109.
+
+  Manning, Charles John, 109.
+
+  Mayhew, Horace, 67.
+
+  Meadows, Kenny. Drawing of, 68.
+
+
+  Newgate. Visit to, 34.
+
+  Northesk, Lord, and Charles II., 101.
+
+
+  Parody. An unknown one, 123.
+
+  Payn, Mr. James. His lay-sermons, 126.
+
+  Poets who are not read, 115.
+
+  Poole, John. Letter from, 83.
+
+  Portland, Duke of, and his books, 42.
+
+  Portraits of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 159.
+
+  _Punch._ Memorials of, 66.
+
+     "    Portraits of writers to, 66.
+
+
+  Reynolds, Sir Joshua. Portrait by, 11.
+
+  Ruskin, John. Letters from, 137.
+
+
+  Sala, G. A. Letter from, 69.
+
+    "     "   Picture by, 69.
+
+  Sales at Christie's, 11, 148.
+
+  Schools, Bedford, 73.
+
+  Segur, Marquis de. Portrait of, 143.
+
+  Sheridan, R. B. Portrait of, 11.
+
+  Stevenson, R. L., 77.
+
+  Stories. American, 18.
+
+  Scott, Canon. Sermon by, 155.
+
+  Symon, Arthur. Poem by, 63.
+
+
+  Texts, inappropriate, 55, 56, 57.
+
+  Thackeray's description of Mrs. Lyne Stephens, 145.
+
+
+  Westerham. Birthplace of Wolfe, 9.
+
+  Wolfe, General. Portrait of, 9.
+
+  Woods, Mr. Thomas H., 13.
+
+  Work, modern. Craze for, 48.
+
+  Z---- sale of pictures, 15.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Reader (_loquiter_).
+
+    "_Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door;
+    Sir, let me see your works and you no more!_"
+              --Pope.
+
+
+
+
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+  |  Transcriber's Note:                                               |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  In this etext the caret ^ represents a superscript character.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.      |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant  |
+  |  form was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.     |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.             |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved to the beginning of   |
+  |  the chat in which they occurred. The List of Illustrations        |
+  |  paginations were not corrected.                                   |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  Other corrections:                                                |
+  |                                                                    |
+  |  -- Page 89: 'Hotel des Affaires Etrangers,' changed to 'Hotel des |
+  |     Affaires Etrangeres,'                                          |
+  |  -- Page 125: Caligraphy changed to calligraphy.                   |
+  +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chats in the Book-Room, by Horace N. Pym
+
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 18:59:33 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 18:59:33 -0700
commit	d06b83727d50c6d7b57968799f18e84828f0af8b (patch)
tree	0f7a5fa37782b0973384b23d3e804c380bc58e0f